The weekly mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1861-1862, 1862-08-23

stared at Mark, as if petrified at his au.
dacity. But Mark gave no one time to
interfere with his proceedings. He said
in loud, distinct voice, Frank Sinclair.
I am here, said a voice from beneath
SO close, it seemed, that every one started
in terror. Not a guest was present to
whom that voice was not familiar. II
was Frank Sinclair's; he who lay buried
in the depths Of the sea.
The Misses Popplewood tainted. The
strong-minded women threw their arms
round Mark Silvertree imploring his pro-
lection while Mr.. Bounce fairly took to
his heels, fled to his own room, and locked
himself in. Lights were extinguished,
chairs and tables overturned, and the
whole scene changed into one Of confusion.
} Nor was it much better when, after a
1'nIne, Ine guests came trembling back, a
pale and tevri6oS ~Sct,q, to gather round
the fire. There were suppressed voices,
furtiVe glances into corners, and shudder-
- ~ ~ ----~-a-~,.SS>~t AUsSs
OmiDUus table in the background. There
were woD5ering3 373 Sz-B@ings, and O
dread Of bedtime and solitary chambers.
But bedtime came, and there were
whisperings in the long passages, and O
hurried disrObing, and burning of wax
tapers as long as they would last, and a
burying of faces in the pillows, and beat
ing Of fearful hearts, for the voice was
Franks, and Frank vessel had gone down
at sea, and all on board perished
CHAPTER II.
There was a snug little chamber at the
end of one of the long passages, with the
fire-light flashing on a set of jewels that
lay on the dressing.table, and showing o
robe as soft as goeseSMey, with flowers bud
ding round the skirt, and a wreath of or.
ange blossoms. and n bridal'peX. Assd q
pair Of satin shoes, set ready for the little
feet to be slipped into.
1t must be Lucy's chamber, and we
hear even now her light tread up the stair
case, and along the passage. Here she
comes, pale and agitated, but all the love-
lier for it. She sits down, and cries bit.
terly. That is very natural, considering
how her dead lover has been brought to
her remembrance. Mark Silvcrtree might
have done some better deed than that the
night before the wedding. TWAS a trick,
there was no question, for Mark has wit
and mischief enough for anything; YET
Lucy must be very fickle-we told you
so from the beginning. See, she dries her
tears, and, woman.like, begins to look
about upon her tinery. She puts on her
jewels, and her robe Of gossamer, and her
veil, and the bridal veil, and the bridal
wreath, and stands looking at herself in
the mirror; then she smiles. and a rosy
blush suffuSes her cheek. She is evident.
ly satisfied with her appearance and with
her future destiny. And as for Frank,
poor fellow! his memory belongs to O
by.gone part Of her history; in fact, the
less she thinks of him the better.
And yet, when she has composed her.
self to rest, her fair hair lying disordered
on the pillow, and her cheek resting OH
her hand, we hear a whisper, low and
murmuring, and yet spoken from the full
ness Of her heart. 1t is only the whisper
of name, and then she falls asleep as Sc
renely as an infant We are not bound
to reveal the secret, but we heard the
name distinctly, and it was not that OF
Archibald Sinclair. There is no end to O
Some little distance from this chamber,
with its robe Of gossamer, and its wreath
of orange flowers, is another and very diff.
ferent department, with sombre hangingS
and massive furniture. An old fashioned
mirror stands upon the table, and into it
is peering haggard, withered face, full
of doubt and fear and disquiet. II is Ar
chibald Sinclair, who has gone to rest.
No one had heard him utter an excla-
nation Of fear, or express any opinion Of
the mysterious voice, save that it was a
trick cleverly performed. and originating
in the fertile brain of Mark Silvertree.-
He had rallied his discomforted guests,
and brought them back from their hiding
places. lie had taken pains to efface the
disagreeable impression made upon them.
He had spoken of Frank as his deeply re-
GREETED nephew, and reproved Mark for
playing on bis ieelings-a reproof Mark
bore with great deal Of equanimity, and,
strange as it may seem, made no attempt
at apology.
Tie had tried to comfort Lucy, who shed
a torrent of crystal drops with an odd sun
shine between them. lie had soothed the
fears of the three Misses PopplewoOd, and
had drawn on Mr.. Bounce to brag of be-
ing the only one of the party who was
not in the least frightened. But now all
this manGuvreing is over, and Mr.. Sim
clair had retired for the night.
He is evidently nervous. See how he
stands and listens. He shudders lest an.
other face than his should peer into the
mirror, and he turns from it abruptly
A coal dropping from the fire makes him
start. lie steals about the room like q
culprit. 1t is very disagreeablc to be
nervous, and so he finds it. There is but
one refuge for him, and that is in oblivion.
So he hastily gets into bed and resolves
to sleep. But did sleep ever come under
such circumstances He tosses from
side to side: he starts, he listens. Will
morning never come?
1t does not matter so much while his
taper burns, and sheds a Pickering light
over the room. 1t can certify him that
nothing is there. But by and by it sinks
into the socket and goes out. The moon
is behind cloud, the fire is at its last
ember, and nothing can be discerned with
clearness. Presently the moon breaks
forth again, and Mr.. Sinclair halls it with
joy. He lifts up his head and looks
round-he thought he heard sound.
There is figure standing between the
curtains at the bottom of the bed. lie
can see it quite distinctly. There is nc
mistake. lie knows he is not dreaming
he wishes he were. But he is wide
awake, with his sense Of sight and hear.
ing OH the stretch.
1t is the most unpleasant moment ol
his life. His eyes are riveted on the form
that has presented itself thus suddenly
before him. 1t stands solemn and still, as
if to give him time to recognize it. And
he does. 1t is Frank Sinclair
Many dreary hours have to succeed
each other before the light of dawn puts
these terrOrs to flight. The phantom is
gone-but still he dare not move. He is