THE YELLOW SHADOW.

I.

NOT years I was suppress,

OT many years ago I was an undergraduate at Cambridge, England. The name of my college I suppress, for obvious reasons. Those who knew me then, and saw something of a most curious episode of my life, will remember me, and find a clue in this narrative to what puzzled them once; those who did not know me would learn nothing from merely personal details.

St. Anthony's will do very well for the name of my college, and Harold Beaumont for my own name; or, in the combined and succinct form in which I was accustomed to state them to proctors or other inquirers, "Beaumont of Ant's." I spring from an old and highlyrespected county family, whose founder came over with the Conqueror, if not before. Ralph de Beaumont (which was not my ancestor's real name, of course) did not get a title, nor did any of his descendants; and since the family gave up robbing and took to farming they have not thriven, on the whole. As the younger son, in a time of agricultural depression, I could only reckon on a good-that is to say, a university-education; and had I not been lucky in securing a lucrative scholarship, I might have been sent out to Australia or Canada,— countries which many English families seem to regard merely as convenient places for shooting their waste products. My habits were studious and solitary: without being forced to pinch, I had to be economical. For the rest (not to be tedious), I will say that I was, and am still, tall, considered myself not bad-looking, and was admitted by all my friends to have a fine taste in neckties.

One evening in February, in the Lent term of my second year, a friend living in the avenue asked me to come in for some whist. We played till about eleven o'clock, and then I left the party, to return to my college. The avenue is sufficiently dark at all times, and it was peculiarly ghostly then from the contrast which the white moonlight made with the deep shadows of the houses and the tree-trunks. I cannot say that I felt any fear while in that mysterious darkness, but I was not sorry to quit it and emerge on the raised foot-path of the Trumpington Road. The night was still and frosty, and the moonlight clearer and brighter than I ever remember having seen it. There were none of the magical bluish misty lights, the shifting and melting shadows born of vapor or wind; every shade was clear-cut and black on the white road, as if inlaid in ebony on ivory. I noticed the distinctness of the form that followed my own,-a silhouette from which any one who knew my face could have identified me, so plain was the profile when I turned my head sideways a little and took off the obscuring college cap.

After a while I approached the gas-lamps, which had been very needlessly lighted. So strong was the moonlight that only when I came close under a lamp-post was the shadow cast by the gas at all

comparable in depth to the other. I noticed, when I stood near one of the lights, how the different tints of the rays caused a contrast in the shadows. Those thrown by the moon looked brown; those cast by the lamp were gray and even bluish. Of course I understood the reason of this, for even if I had not studied optics I could hardly have failed to profit by the instruction so liberally dispensed by a wellknown firm of soap-advertisers. The yellow rays in the gaslight would naturally make the shadow have a bluish tint by contrast; in the same way the bluish white of the moonbeams caused the brown shadows, and a strong blue light would of course have resulted in a yellow shadow.

While this reflection was passing through my mind, I happened to look down again at my shadow, or rather at my shadows. As I did so, a sudden tremor passed through all my limbs. I reeled against the railing and clutched it convulsively, for there, stretching from my feet, distinct on my path, was a yellow shadow. So plain was its tint and outline that it might have been a patch of fresh gravel on the path. I tried to disbelieve this strange appearance, to treat it as a mere derangement of the sight; but it would not follow my eyes when I turned them away. I tried hard to think that this was only a shadow cast by the moonlight; but the brown shade thrown by the moon was quite plain, lying at right angles to this. Besides, when I first saw the shadow it had been between me and the railing; when I staggered against the rail it had wheeled round me quickly, as a passer-by might have done to avoid being pressed against the iron or pushed into the conduit that runs by the path. Now the Yellow Shadow was quite motionless on the white walk, and remained so.

The cold of the iron rail against my hand roused me from my stupor of bewilderment. I set myself resolutely to examine this shadow that had attached itself to me. Whether a spectral visitor, or an optical illusion, or a mere hallucination due to overwork or biliousness, it need inspire no dread. If I could not account for it, I could at least determine what it looked like. But at the first steady look I cast on the yellow patch of shade I started again: it was not my shadow at all. About the feet it was indistinct, and melted into my own shadows, especially that cast by the moonlight; but the rest of the outline, though clearly that of a human form, was as clearly not mine. I could distinguish a female head, like a silhouette, upon the path. I could see the delicate profile, the profusion of hair loosely knotted together behind the head. The shadow of a piece of lace stood out upon the curve of the breast, and I could have sworn that I saw it stirring. Nearer my feet came the wider shadow of an ample skirt. The form was life-size, and in proper proportion. If any one will take a figure-subject drawn on white paper, cut out the drawing with scissors, and spread the rest of the sheet on a piece of common dull-yellow pasteboard, he will have an exact reproduction, in miniature, of what I saw.

After a few minutes spent in gazing at this strange form, I summoned up courage to walk on a few steps. The Yellow Shadow glided on unchanged beside me. As an experiment (now that my curiosity was overpowering my dread), I obliqued towards the edge of the road.

As I did so, the figure swung round me till it came between me and the water. I fancied, however, that I could detect a motion of the shoulders and a toss of the head, as if to display a petulant disapproval of my rudeness. The Shadow, then, had a will and even a temper of her own, for I felt compelled to consider the form as that of a woman. Again I strove to shake off what I was desperately resolved to consider an illusion. I pinched myself hard, but with no result except a bruise. Then I turned and deliberately stared at the figure outlined on the moonlit path. Oh, horror! as I looked, the sharply-marked profile became blunted and finally effaced, and on each side of the head appeared the curve of the flowing tresses. I knew that the Shadow had turned her face towards me; I felt that the gaze of unseen eyes was upon me. With one wild shriek I dashed off down the road, and, while running at the top of my speed, looked round at my inexorable attendant, still sliding after me in the moonlight, inseparable. Not unnaturally, I ran violently into the first person I happened to meet, who was a big policeman. We rolled over together in utter confusion; then the practised constable extricated himself and rose, hauling me up by the collar. It did not occur to me, however, to regard him otherwise than as a friend who might release me from my unwelcome follower. Before he could bring his vast mind to bear on the situation, I gasped out, "Oh, take her away! take her away!"

"Take who away?" inquired he, sternly. "What have you been a-doing of, then?"

"It's a woman, and I can't get rid of her!" I stammered. "She's following me!"

"That's rather sing'lar, young man," remarked the policeman. "Generally it's rather the other way with you 'varsity gents. And I don't see no woman, neither. You've been a-taking of something, that's where it is."

"No, there! look there! she's a shadow,-a yellow shadow !"

The form of my attendant was plainly visible on the pavement when I began speaking; but as I pointed to it the Shadow swung quickly round till it coincided in direction with my own shadow as thrown by the moon. Thus, though I, with my naturally keen perception of color sharpened by dread, could see her outline dimly showing on the brown, it was completely hidden from the dull eyes of an incredulous constable. He glanced over the path where I pointed, but carelessly, rather to humor my delusion than to see for himself. If the Shadow had been perfectly plain he would not have condescended to notice her.

"Now, look here, sir," he said, in a tone of contemptuous pity, he picked up and restored to me my college cap, "if you take my advice, you'll go to your rooms very quiet, and get to bed, and if you see any yellow shadows to-morrow, then you can come to me again. And if I were you, I wouldn't go rushing round at that pace, a-calling out that you're being followed. Begging your pardon, sir, you don't look as if you could afford to meet old six-and-eightpenny* too often."

* The proctors are accustomed to levy fines of this amount and upwards.

Though this allusion to the proctors, and indeed the whole tone of the intelligent officer's remarks, struck me as disrespectful, I could not help feeling that he displayed a certain amount of common sense. I thanked him, and bestowed a shilling on him, which he took with an air of severe virtue, and as I moved off I could hear him soliloquizing,

"Well, I've known 'em see black dogs and snakes often, and blue devils sometimes; but that's the first as had a yellow shadow that I ever see. P'r'aps it was orange bitters as he sewed himself up with, or some stuff as give him the yellow jarnders!"

I confess that these imputations on my character annoyed me, and had I been athletic I could gladly have bonneted and beaten the policeman, and even carried off his helmet as a trophy, as I had heard of some rowdy men doing; but considerations of prudence restrained me, and I walked on rapidly towards my college. The Shadow was still mingled with my own, and sometimes I doubted whether there was anything but my own shadow there, especially when a browner pavingstone broke the whiteness of the path. I had almost brought myself to disbelieve in the existence of my attendant, when the three-quarters chimed from the church-tower near me. I looked at my watch instinctively, to see what time remained, and whether it was indeed a quarter to twelve; and when I dropped my glance to the pavement again, there was the hateful Yellow Shadow, at right angles to mine, distinct in profile, and with the lips curved as if in an ironical smile.

I do not know exactly how I reached the college and rang the bell, nor how, when let in, I entered my rooms. I did get there, however, and found the fire still alight. I heaped on coals, and soon a bright flame sprang up, and sent my shadow dancing over the walls and ceiling in every variety of gigantic distortion. But, as I turned, among these fantastic visions, clear and distinct on the wall I saw the Yellow Shadow. With the calmness of despair I lit my lamp, glancing up from time to time at the form of my tormentor. When I had turned up the flame as high as I could without smoking the glass, I sat down in a deep arm-chair and gazed at the Shadow. She remained perfectly still, as if used to being stared at. As far as I could judge from her profile, she was young and pretty, that is, the form that would have corresponded to hers would have been young and pretty. Her hair was luxuriant and wavy, knotted loosely behind, and flowing over her shoulders; she had an exquisite little nose, slightly "tip-tilted" (sweet epithet, by which the Laureate has earned the love of all turn-up-nosed women forever), full, pouting lips, and a chin with much obstinacy in its outline. As far as the shadow served me, I conjectured that the substance was dressed in some rich, stiff gown, decidedly low in the neck, and edged with lace. Her arms were hanging at her side, I suppose, for I could see nothing of them. A slight protuberance on either side of the slender throat seemed to indicate a necklace. As I looked still, the lips parted, as if in a sigh, and one bare arm (at least I saw no sleeve), on whose exquisite curves I noticed the projection of two bracelets, was slowly raised to the head. The hand held what looked like a feather-fan; and the Shadow began moving the image of this fan to and fro, as if she found my room close.

Even in the misery that this persecution caused me (for I felt almost convinced that the apparition was an indication of insanity), I was amused to see the calm way in which the Yellow Shadow made herself at home on my wall; and, with the coarse jocularity that men will sometimes affect in hopeless wretchedness, I exclaimed, aloud,

"Well, old girl, you seem pretty much at home in these diggings." The Shadow tossed her head slightly, as if she did not understand my speech and did not want to understand it.

"Do you mean to stay here, madam?" I went on, recklessly. She nodded slowly and emphatically.

"In that case," I remarked, ironically, "perhaps I can make you up a bed on the wall, or get you the shadow of some supper."

I saw that obscuration of her profile which led me to infer that she was turning her face to me or away from me, as I never could be quite sure which. Then she shook her head, but in a slow and serious way that made me sure she had not appreciated the sarcasm of my speech. I conceived a low opinion of her intelligence, which I never afterwards saw reason to alter. Certainly she had no sense of humor,-not a shadow of it, in fact.

"Then, madam,” I resumed, in a tone of polished satire, “if you do not want anything to eat or to drink or to sleep upon, perhaps you will be so good as to tell me what you do want."

She was quite still, and looked blank, but then she always looked blank.

"May I inquire," I went on, with more confidence, "whether you can talk?"

She shook her head, very slowly and sadly, I thought. Evidently she felt the deprivation very keenly, though I was rather glad than otherwise. Supposing that my Yellow Shadow was not subjective, but objective (to speak philosophically), it was a relief to know that she could not compromise me by her voice. A vocal shadow, over whom one had no control, would be as bad as a baby and considerably worse than a cat. However, I wished to establish some means of communication with my visitor. She could evidently hear, though she could not speak, and she could also see; but how was she to tell me anything but "yes" or "no"?

"Do you know the deaf and dumb alphabet?" I asked; but she shook her head, and I remembered that I did not know it either. Did she know how to write? She nodded several times. Could she make a mark on anything? Alas, no! and, besides, I did not want to have my walls scrawled over, just after paying four pounds eighteen shillings and ninepence for the paint.

I meditated deeply for some time, then I started up so suddenly as to make the Shadow start. "I've hit it!" I cried. "You write on the wall with your finger, and I shall see each letter as you form it,-that is, if it is not too much trouble," I added, politely. She clapped her hands with delight on the wall. Then she raised her arm, and I could see her writing with her forefinger. I read each letter as she formed it, and saw each in imagination for a moment after it was written. She wrote an execrable hand, but I could make out the words "Oh, that

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