The Crimson Blind

The Crimson Blind

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Title: The Crimson Blind
Author: Fred M. White
Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9832] [This file was first
posted on October 22, 2003]
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THE CRIMSON BLIND
By FRED. M. WHITE
1905

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
"WHO SPEAKS?" II. THE CRIMSON BLIND III. THE VOICE IN
THE DARKNESS IV. IN EXTREMIS V. "RECEIVED WITH
THANKS" VI. A POLICY OF SILENCE VII. No. 218, BRUNSWICK
SQUARE VIII. HATHERLY BELL IX. THE BROKEN FIGURE X.
THE HOUSE OF THE SILENT SORROW XI. AFTER
REMBRANDT XII. "THE CRIMSON BLIND" XIII. "GOOD DOG!"
XIV. BEHIND THE BLIND XV. A MEDICAL OPINION XVI.
MARGARET SEES A GHOST XVII. THE PACE SLACKENS XVIII.
A COMMON ENEMY XIX. ROLLO SHOWS HIS TEETH XX.
FRANK LITTIMER XXI. A FIND XXII. "THE LIGHT THAT
FAILED" XXIII. INDISCRETION XXIV. ENID LEARNS
SOMETHING XXV. LITTIMER CASTLE XXIV. AN

UNEXPECTED GUEST XXVII. SLIGHTLY FARCICAL XXVIII. A
SQUIRE OF DAMES XXIX. THE MAN WITH THE THUMB
AGAIN XXX. GONE! XXXI. BELL ARRIVES XXXII. HOW THE
SCHEME WORKED OUT XXXIII. THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE
XXXIV. THE PUZZLING OF HENSON XXXV. CHRIS HAS AN
IDEA XXXVL. A BRILLIANT IDEA XXXVII. ANOTHER
TELEPHONIC MESSAGE XXXVIII. A LITTLE FICTION XXXIX.
THE FASCINATION OF JAMES MERRITT XL. A USEFUL
DISCOVERY XLI. A DELICATE ERRAND XLII. PRINCE
RUPERT'S RING XLIII. NEARING THE TRUTH XLIV. ENID
SPEAKS XLV. ON THE TRAIL XLVI. LITTIMER'S EYES ARE
OPENED XLVII. THE TRACK BROADENS XLVIII. WHERE IS
RAWLINS? XLIX. A CHEVALIER OF FORTUNE L. RAWLINS IS
CANDID LI. HERITAGE IS WILLING LII. PUTTING THE LIGHT
OUT LIII. UNSEALED LIPS LIV. WHERE IS THE RING? LV.
KICKED OUT LVI. WHITE FANGS LVII. HIDE AND SEEK

THE CRIMSON BLIND.
CHAPTER I
"WHO SPEAKS?"
David Steel dropped his eyes from the mirror and shuddered as a man
who sees his own soul bared for the first time. And yet the mirror was
in itself a thing of artistic beauty--engraved Florentine glass in a frame
of deep old Flemish oak. The novelist had purchased it in Bruges, and
now it stood as a joy and a thing of beauty against the full red wall over
the fireplace. And Steel had glanced at himself therein and seen murder
in his eyes.
He dropped into a chair with a groan for his own helplessness. Men
have done that kind of thing before when the cartridges are all gone and
the bayonets are twisted and broken and the brown waves of the foe
come snarling over the breastworks. And then they die doggedly with
the stones in their hands, and cursing the tardy supports that brought

this black shame upon them.
But Steel's was ruin of another kind. The man was a fighter to his
finger-tips. He had dogged determination and splendid physical
courage; he had gradually thrust his way into the front rank of living
novelists, though the taste of poverty was still bitter in his mouth. And
how good success was now that it had come!
People envied him. Well, that was all in the sweets of the victory. They
praised his blue china, they lingered before his Oriental dishes and the
choice pictures on the panelled walls. The whole thing was still a
constant pleasure to Steel's artistic mind. The dark walls, the old oak
and silver, the red shades, and the high artistic fittings soothed him and
pleased him, and played upon his tender imagination. And behind there
was a study, filled with books and engravings, and beyond that again a
conservatory, filled with the choicest blossoms. Steel could work with
the passion flowers above his head and the tender grace of the tropical
ferns about him, and he could reach his left