The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1869-04-24
Qhe0tteltiqettt
EVELINE'S VISITANT-.A GHOST
STORY.
HY MISS NJ. E. nRADDoN.

1t was at a masked ball at the Palais
Royal that my fatal quarrel with my
| first cousin Andre de Rrissac began,
The quarrel was about a woman. The
women who followed the footsteps of
| Philip of Orleans were the causes of
many such disputes; and there was
scarcely one fair head in all that gilt.
tering thtong which, to q man versed
in social histories and mysteries, might
not have seemed bedabbled with blood.
shall not record the name of her for
love of whom Andre de Brissac and l
| crossed one of the bridges, in the dim
August dawn, on our way to the waste
ground beyond the church of Saint-Ger-
man des Pres.
There were many beautiful vipers in
those days, and she was Que of them.
can feel the chill breath of that Au-
gust morning blowing in my face, as 1
sit In my dismal chamber at my cha
teau of Puy Verdun tonight, alone in
the stiffness, writing the strange story
of my life. 1 can see the white mist ris-
ing from the river, the grim outline Of
the Chatelet, and the square towers of
Notre Dame black against the pale gray
sky. Even more wildly can 1 recall
Andres fair young face, as he stood OPP
posite to me with his two friends
scoundrels both, and alike eager for
that unnatural fray. We were strange
group 10 Dc seen III d 6uuEl5o1
all OF US fresh from the heat and cla-
NOR OF the Regents saloons-Audre, in
quaint hunting-dress copied from a
family portrait at Puy Verdun, 1 cos
tuned as one of LAWS Mississippi In
dams; the other men In like garish frip-
perry, adorned with broideries and jew
els that looked wan in the pale light of
dawn.
Our quarrel had been a fierce one
quarrel which could have but one
result, and that the direst. had struck
him; and the welt raised by my open
hand was crimson upon his tair
womanish face as he stood opposite to
me. The eastern sun shone on the
face presently, and dyed the cruel mark
with n deeper red but the sting of my
own wrongs was fresh, and l had not
yet learned to despise myself for that
brutal outrage.
To Andre de Brissac such an insult
was most terrible. He was the favorite
of Fortune, the favorite of women; and
1 was nothing,-a rough soldier who
had done my country good service, but
in the boudoir of a ParAbere manner.
less boor.
We fought. and 1 wounded him NOR
tally. Life had been very sweet for
him; and 1 think that a frenzy of
despair took possession OF him when
he felt the life.bloOd ebbing away. He
beckoned me to him as he lay on the
ground. 1 went and knelt at his side.
"Forgive ne, Andre" 1 murmered.
He too6 no more heed OF my words
than if that piteous entreaty had been
the idle ripple of the river near at hand.
"IIisten TO me, Hector de Brissec," he
said. ~ am not one who believes that
u man has done with earth because his
eyes glaze and his jaw stibens. They
will bury me in the old vault at Puy
Veudun; and you will be master of the
hNT lVy
take things in these days, and how Du-
bois will laugh when he hears that Ca
has been killed in duel. They
will bury me. and sing masses
for my soul; but you and l have not
finished our affair yet, my cousin. l
will be with you when you least look
to see mel, with this ugly scar upon
the face that women have praised and
loved, I will como to you when your
life seems brightest. l will come be-
tween you and all that you hold iairest
and dearest. Ny ghostiy hand shall
drop poison in your cup OF JOY. My
shadoWv form shall shut the sunlight
frcn your life. Men with such iron
will as mine can do what they please,
Hector de Brissac. 1t Is my will to
haunt you when 1 am dead"
All this in short broken sentences he
whispered into my ear. had need to
bend my ear close to his dying lips;
was strong enough to do battle with
Death. and 1 believe he said all he
wished to say before his head fell back
upon the velvet cloak they had spread
beneath him, never TO be lifted again.
AS he lay there, you would have
fancied him fragile STRIPPING, too fair
and frail for the struggle called life;
but there are these who remember the
brief manhood OF Andre de Brissac,
and who can bear witness TO the terri
BILE force of that proud nature.
stood looking down at the young
face with that foul mark upon it; and
God knows I was sorry for what had
done.
OF those plasphemOus threats which
he had whispered in my ear | took no
heed. was soldier, and Al believer.
There was nothing absolutely dreadful
to me in the thought that 1 had killed
this man. I had killed many men on
the battle. field; and this one had done
me cruel wrong.
NV friends would have me cross
the frontier to escape the conse-
quences of my act; but l was ready
to face those consequence, and
remained In France. kept aloof from
the court, and received hint that
had best contine myself to my own
province. Many masses were chanted
in the little chapel OF Puy Ve1dun for
the soul of my dead cousin, and his
coffin filled a niche in the vault of our
ancestors.
His death had made me a rich man
and the thought that it was so made
nv newly acquired wealth very hateful
to me. l lived lonely existence in
the old chateau, where 1 rarely held
converse with any but the servants of
the household, all of whom had served
nv cousin. and none of whom liked
me.
It was hard and bitter life. 1t gall.
ed me, when 1 rode through the village,
to see the peasant. children shrink away
from me. 1 have seen old women cross
themselves steathily as I passed them
by. Strange reports had gone forth
about me; and there were" those who
whispered that had given my soul to
the Evil One as the price of my Cousins
heritage. From my boyhood l had
been dark of visage and stern OF man.
ner and hence, perhaps, no woman's
love had ever been mine. remember
my mothers face in all its changes of
expression; but 1 can remember no
look of affection that ever shone on me.
That other woman beneath whose feet
1 laid my heart, was pleased to accept
my homage, but she never loved me
and the end was treachery.
I had grown hateful to myself, and
had well-nigh begun to hate my fellow.
creatures, when a feverish desire seized
upon me, and 1 pinned to.be back inithe
press and throng of the busy world
once again. 1 went back to Paris,
where 1 kept myself aloof from the
court, and where an angel took COM
passion upon me.
rade, a man whose merits had been
WhO9n aChiaVamantR had |