Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1864-04-07
From the North Granville IN. W Quarterly
MY STRANGE VISITOR.

ram came beating against the windows
9 and the winds made strange music as the
: swept about the corners of the old house,
now soft and low and dirge-like, ano
changing, and swelling into grand tri
umphal anthem.
was sitting alone by the glowing Gre
light, listening to the wild voices without
and weaving together strange fancies. I
was pleasant to sit thus, dreaming away
the hours, and for once | was glad to b,
alone. What were my thoughts on tha
wild, winters night, can hardly tell.
know that sometimes talked with tn
past, sometimes with the years to come
| looked upon familiar faces, which tn,
dust had covered long ago; listened t.
voices, hushed amid the swellings of Jor.
dan. Then the whispering past grew 81.
lent, and the future sounded its glad
triumph. Thus | sat, wondering and
dreaming, until my wild ancies tangled
themselves strangely together and the fire.
light faded. How long slept, / cannot
tell but a loud knock at the door sud-
denly startled me. My heart beat ner-
vously, but, trying to seem as unconcerned
as possible, passed to the door. For a
moment my heart trembled as it held the
knob, but resolutely turned it, and stood
face to face with stranger. If my heart
beat nervously before, it was beating fear
fully now, so strange was the face which
met my own--so wild, so hopeless. At
first no word was spoken then sum-
moned courage to ask MIN whom he sought.
Refuge from this cursed tempest !'' he
muttered, "Let me pass p and with the
words he brushed by me.
| stood irresolute. What should | do
Flee and whittier | looked out into
the tempest. Blackness of darkness
seemed to have shrouded the outer world.
The rain had ceased, but the winds were
shrieking wildly. To venture out seemed
more fearful than to remain and remem-
bered, too, with tArobbing heart, nv
little brother, who was sleeping in the
chamber above.
closed the door. How strangely calm
| seemed to myself at that moment. I
even stopped to arrange the mat, which
the wind had blown from its place. and,
humming'a familiar air, re-entered the
apartment.
A remembrance of the wild legends
which had haunted my childhood, rushed
over me-stories of fierce bandits and
murdered danes; but the fear which had
at FIRST shaken me was gone, or frozen in
my veins. AFTER all, Porhaps there was
nothing to fear. At all events, / would
meet whatever was to come calmly and
unfinchingly.
The stranger had seated himself before
the fire, and was leaning his head upon his
hands. | observed him narrowly. He
was tall and thin-that | had noticed at
frst,-his hair was dark, and hanging in
wet, tangled masses. | cannot describe
his dress minutely. ! know that it was
badly worn and drenched with the rain
These observations | made while moving
quietly about the room, and re-arranging
articles, which were in no way disordered.
AT last | seated myself at the table
with writing materials, and commenced
letter to friend. | wonder at myself,
now, as | remember how untremblingly
my hand moved over the paper. The
stranger stirred restlessly, threaded his
fingers through the tangled masses of hair
which hung over his forehead, and sighed.
He was sorrowful then, and what had / |
to fear from sorrow2 | would pity him;
perhaps / might say something to soothe
his anguish. All the romance of my ma
ture was reused. paused in my writing,
and was mingling together the strange and
shadowy, which might have formed the
tangled web of this mans life, when he
started and looked upon me. Had he
read my thoughts? Something like
sneer seemed to curl his lips, scorn to dart
from his eyes.
"Spare your pity, silly girl,n he sx-
claimed derisively, ~ scorn, despise, tram
pile upon it. Years ago flung from me
all human sympathy, and l will not. bear
it now. 1t tortures me, drives me to
frenzy. Pity yourself if you will; God
knows,-if there mere a God, that you
have need enough. DO you look for Joy,
peace2 Perchance you'll find them. The
curse is not on you but for me, | look
for joy nor peace till find them in the
grave, and there joy will be forgetfuness
peace, a dreamless Sleep. / tell you | |
hate the wcrld and its laws. / hate even
its blue skies, its minglng sunlight and
shadow for over all that is beautiful rests
a pall--an eternal blackness of darkness.
| have sought to gather flowers, but thorns
were underneath; l have wandered in
smooth, sunny places, but serpents hissed
among the grass and the flowers all
earth did but mock me with its fading
glories; / have trusted men, and they
were false as demons
The speaker had risen, and seemed con-
fronting me with the sins Of my race yea,
with even the falsity Of Nature. had
listened, spell-bound, or-stricken.-
Now he paused, and silence, more dread
than his Heaven-daring impiety, followed.
The fire cracked and blazed. The old
house shook with the tempest, and my own
heart stood still with fear. A Bible Law
beside me on the table. half involun-
tarily turned its leaves, and read in an
unsteady voice, "And God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes"- "And
there shall be no night there"