The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-06-22
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And now, Tom, 1 am coming to
the bad black page in my history.
The snow storm ragged that night
until one in the morning, banging ut
the windows, bowling down the CHM
neys, and making the floors swing till
one felt as if lying in the cabin of
ship. 1 believe no one slept in the
beginning of the night, but towards
two in the morning the storm lulled,
and the whole house was wrapped in
the deep slumber that follows a tire
some waking, and longing for sleep.
The calming of the wind did not, un-
fortunately, remove the cause of my
restlessness, and my eyes remained
open, and my mind full of painful
thoughts, long after the roaring had
grown faint in the chimneys, and the
cannonading at my window had
ceased had despaired of sleep at
last, had arisen, and reused my fire,
frightened my lamp, and prepared to
read, when I heard noise in the
corridor. Not a great noise, but a
very little noise; not noise Of one
walking or talking; not sound of a
door opening nor of anything falling;
not noise that could in any way at
all describe; only just an impercep-
tble warning that something was
alive and stirring not far away.
The time had been when such a
little thing would not have been
worth my notice; but circumstances
had of late made me painfully watch
full and suspicious. T was eager to
grasp at any shadow which seemed to
promise clew to the mystery over
which I pondered night and day. I
sprang to my door and opened it.
The room which [ had appropriated
to myself when I gave mp my own to
my uncle, was one of those which
opened off that corridor, at the end
OF which was Giles Humphreys
chamber. All was solemnly hushed
when I opened the door; the form of
every window printed in bright
moonlight on the floor, with long
shadows lying between Hooked up
the corridor, and then down, in
time to see woman's figure, wrapped
from head to foot in a loose dark
gown, passing swiftly through one of
the moonlit spaces into a shadow;
then out of the shadow again into
another pale green nimbus. A few
hasty strides brought me to the spot
where she had passed moment
before; but she had turned the corner
into that other passage which led
away to the staircase. T followed, but
the figure had vanished; and only the
falntest sounds OF a door shutting
softly fell on my ear. I returned to
my chamber-more wretched, more
indignant, and more puzzled than I
had left it.
Christmas morning broke glorious
iy, with red sun looking gorgeously
through the snowy branches of the
trees, and found me with a racking
headache, eyes that felt as if they
were parboiled, and q heart like a
lump of lead. While I dressed, I
saw from my window Lady Fitzgib-
bon tripping away down the avenue,
In her fur mantle and velvet hat, to
the earliest service at our little coun
try church.
L also turned out Of doors, seeking
to get braced by the frosty air. The
Thanksgiving was very vague in my
heart as walked up and down, andI
noticed with indifference the wintry
splendor OF the morning. My thoughts
were fun OF that mysterious. figure that
had fitted down the corridor in the
moonlight. l was thinking of her
height, which was about the HEIGHT
of at least half dozen women in fhe
house; of her gown, which was a loose
dressing-gown affair which anybody
might wear, and Of the room into
which she escaped, which must have
been one of two rooms standing op-
posite one another on the lower cor
ridor near the staircase. These were
the things l thought about, growing
no happier, till it was time to 90 in
to breakfast.
Bat the wonders were only begin
ming. In the hall, l met two or