The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1868-01-31

i
quence; my bedroom window looked
out upon the roof of the e,piazza; 4
would not disturb the house by
knocking; bit of climbing would do
the business, and should the window
De Iastened, 1 would tap and awaken
Horace, who was my mate and
bed-fellow. The thing was executed
as soon as thought of, and my hand
on The window, which yielded, and I
stood in my own room. BY the
moonlight which streamed in, I saw
that the bed was occupied, and by
the heavy breathing, I knew that
Horace was in deep sleep. I would
not, therefore, awaken him, but
save the story of my mishap for the
following day. With this resolution,
[ slipped quietly into bed and in
three minutes was oblivious.
"What ought I to have dreamed
that night? But I shall not antici-
pate. 7 lay facing the windows, and
as the sun peeped up above the dis
tant hills, and scattered the grey
mists of the morning, L awoke. My
bed fellow was breathing heavily,
but it was broad daylight and there
was no more sleep in me, 80 I de-
termined that Horace should wake
up and hear my story of the railroad
breakdown. I turned quickly and
gave the sleeper sudden shake. AS
rapidly as my own motion, my bed
fellow. who had laid with HE back
towards me, sprung in q sitting po-
sition. There are such surprises, Ms
without terror, which absolutely
deprive us of the power of speech,
until the brain has time to act and
reason. Such surprises do not gene
rate screams and faints. They are
expressed by open-mouthed and 81
lent wonder. This was the case with
myself and my bed-fellow, as we sat
upright aud stared. Right by my
side, with her face within two feet
OF my own, sat young woman, not
more than seventeen, with great,
dark hazel eyes, and such great
masses of brown curls, tucked away
under the neatest little night-cap
that ever was. She had gathered the
bed-clothes, with spasmodic jerk,
up about her throat, and the most
rigid, astonished look, as though
doubling whether she was sleeping
or waking, gazed steadily in my
eyes. Memory serves q man but lit
tie in.like cases; but, if my memory
serves me right, it WIS who first
spoke. blurted out with:
'How came you here?"
"The figure stared still in speech
less astonishment, but in q moment,
as though awakened from its stupe-
faction, spoke:
"'Are you Charles Morgan?'
"'Yes,' was my rather subducd
answer.
"'Well, then, Mr.. Morgan said
the figure, by this time speaking as
calmly. and with quite as much
dignity as though in the drawing
room, I am May Stevens, and 1 was
put in this room, after IN unexpect-
ed arrival. Horace had gone over
to the neighbor's, q few miles of,
before I got here, and was not to re-
turn until to-day. That is how 1 was
put in this ROOM
$50 here 1 was, sitting pis-a-pis to
this May Stevens, that my thical lady,
for the first meeting with whom 1 had
Intended to get up such superlativc
toilet. A nice style of introduction,
and nice style of toilet! And she
she by this time was rs cold MS the
3lst of December. and sat looking
me right in the eye, as I made some
scrambling explanation of my being
found in that extraordinary position.
1t was lame explanation, wonder
fully mixed mp with irrelevant mat
ter, and stammere and suffered
through in q way that should have
disgusted any sensible person. She
seemed to be seriously pondering
during the recital, and at it's end,
looking at me as though asking the
most simple question in the world,
anid.