Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1859-01-13

[ was by this time IN state OF deml-ln-
toxication, and felt that [ was equal to any
thing therefore, without a moments hesl-
tation, cried out, ''Done!'
The moment the word had passed my
lips [ rcpented my foolish wager; but it
was too late to retract. My friend looked
at his watch, it was then half-past eleven.
It sas therefore time should set out. 1t
was agreed that [ was to go to the grave and
wait there till the cemetery clock struck
twelve, with the last stroke [ was to plunge
my penknife into the grave and leave it
there.
I took another large tumbler Of brandy
and water to keep up my courage, and start
ed off on my foolhardy excursion.
Until the last house of the town was pass
ed I got along very we'll, but when I reach
ed the dark road leading to the cemetery
my heart began to fail me. I whistled to
distract my attention, [ sang, called out,
but the only answer [ received was dull
echo. 1t was no use. [ felt my courage
fast oozing away, but shame made me pro-
ceed
I forgot to say it was windy, clustering
November night, and so dark that [ could
not see my hand before me. The moaning
of the wind amongst the huge trees lining
the road did not tend to reanimate me. l
plodded on in state of miserable abject
fear.
At length I reached the cemetery gate,
and with trembling hand swung open the
massive portal.
Jenkins grave was at the further end of
the cemetery, and had, as it were, to walk
through a whole city of graves before l
reached it, How [ got there know not,
for by this time [ was completely unnamed,
and my legs trembled under me as if they
were afflicted with the palsy. All the hor-
ribie incidents | had ever read in romances
came back to my mind in the most vivid
manner. 1 could just trace the forms of
the white tombstones which lay in my
path. Twenty times had transformed
them Into spectres, and fancied they were
advancing towards me- More than once |
aTnadi. anasdi .iny back to fly from the aceursed
spot; but a more powerful feeling than fear
prevented me-namely, the dread of deri-
sion.
At last [ reached the spot where the
drunkard was buried [ could distinctly
detect the form of the newly made grave.
[ pulled out my penknife and held it in my
hand, ready to plunge it into the grave
when the clock should strike twelve.
[ do not know how long waited; it ap-
peared an age to me. All the time I was
there the wind moaned and wtistled round
the old tombstones, as if interrogating me
as to my business there.
Suddenly sound vibrated through the
air. | gave start, and then, even in the
midst of my fears, smiled at my folly. It
was onl y the cemetery clock striking twelve.
waited until eleven strokes had been
sounded, and while the last was still ring
ing I stopped down and plunged the pen
knife deeply into the brown earth. then
attempted to rise, but great heavens! /
was held fxed-immovable A hoarse
sound of mocking laughter rang through
the cemetery, as if it proceeded from some
being deriding me. Again [ made the at
tempt-and again something held me back.
[ was dragged downtown, until I lay all
my length on the gravel felt the cold
earth against my face. The laughter was
repeated it was now distinct and percepti-
bic, and grated in my ears. Perspiration
poured from my brow like water, my hands
trembled, and there was such an oppression
about my heart that it tappeared as if it must
cease to beat The last words of the mis-
cradle wretch came forcibly into my mind
'"Fool that you are, aeiU haunt you after
deuthP' 1t was true then, [ was in his
nd :,:3 ~
While [ lay down [ no longer felt the in
visible thing holding to me. It must have
relaxed its grasp. I began to reason with
myself-Could [ have been deceived-was
it simply hallucination of my senses? AS
[ asked myself these questions I began to
gain little courage. [ cautiously got up
on my knees-and the blood began to re-
turn to my cheek, for no hand held me back
now. [ remained in this position for min
ute to collect my energies, and then made q.
movement to attain standing posture-but
oh! horror of horrors the thing was holding
ME again. Yes-it was no dream-it was
no hallucination lit was palpable. stern real
ity. The drag was steady, continuous
downtown again on the mound of earth
which covered the body Of the wretched
drunkard. At this moment too the wind
increased in violence; again the horrid laugh
ter greeted my cart was even intensified
in harshness. [ could bear no more. I
shrieked aloud in agony, and made desperate
efforts to get free; but it was all in vain.
Exhausted nature could hold out no longer
my energies failed me, and [ sunk into a
state of unconsciousness.
How long lay there, I know not; but
when [ came to myself it was broad day