The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-07-12

out, and worse than all the rest, that pre-
cious message of Father Greyson's was no
where to be found when she finally stag
gered to her feet to look for it. The thief
i'll the night had accomplished his or her
object. For some reason, that letter seemed
to be of value to somebody else, and had
therefore been stolen from her.
With considerable difficulty she made her
way to the closet, and took down bottle
of old wine that happened to be there
Hastily swallowing half glass, it had the
effect of clearing her head, somewhat, and
she had sense enough remaining to give the
bell-rope smart pull.
The excitement of the evening had driven
sleep from Phil, and he consequently sat
till past midnight in the library trying to
read.
The loud ringing of Dote's bell brought
him suddenly to his feet His first confused
idea was that Father Greyson had fallen
violently ill again, and Miss Wyndham was
trying to summon assistance. On stepping
into the hall, however, and observing which
bell was in motion, his alarm took new
direction.
"What can have happened to Dote?" he
thought, darting up stairs at the top of his
speed.
She was seated in chair beside the ta-
BILE, when he reached her apartment, very
pale and in deep distress.
Father Greyson's letter p' she cried out
to him, helplessly. "Somebody has come
into the room and taken it. o, Phil what
shall do?''
The truth flashed suddenly upon his
mind. The mysterious per image who had
attempted to prey upon both Father Grey
son and himself had become aware of the
transfer of the paper, and therefore paid
Dote visit, thus succeeding in accomplish
ing his or her base design at last. Why
had he not put her on her guard?
go, Dote," he exclaimed, standing be-
fore her whittier and more shaken than she
was herself, "this house is haunted by a
devil, tonight. might have warned you,
and thus have spared you what you must
have suffered"
"Never mind, Phil" she said, sweetly,
taking his hand and holding tight to it
while she told him all that had occurred,
but in low tones, for the servants were al
ready thronging in to learn what was the
matter, and she did not care to have them
hear the ghostly recital. 1t was scarcely
concluded when scream from Mrs. Hen.
derson, who had crossed the hall to enter
Father Greysons bedroom, echoed sudden.
ly through the house, calling them all in
that direction, and awakening fresh fears in
poor Phil's mind.
1t was sad sight they looked upon the
next moment-the eliminating horror Of
that wretched night. Father Greyson lay
on his couch, stiff, dead The first sight Of
his ghastly face was. enough to show them
that. Honoria Wyndham had fallen for
ward among pile of cushions beside the
bed, and lay there writhing and moaning
like one in fit.
do not like to dwell on the scene that
followed-Dote's despair, Phil's grief, the
cries and sobs of the servants, and the gen
eral confusion that prevailed. Suffice it tc
say Honoria soon recovered from the effects
of the chloform, for that deadly opiate hae
been at work here as well as elsewhere il
the house, that night) and was enabled tc
answer their eager inquiries. But she
could throw no light on the manner il
which the drug had been administered tt
herself, or, at least, such was her declara
: tion. She thought somebody must have
stolen stealthily upon her from behind.
When the first stupefaction was over
and she realized that Father Greyson wa
really dead, she threw herself on the coucl
beside him, giving away to the most vic
lent demonstrations of grief. Her erie
and shrieks were enough to frightel
| one
My husband my dear, dear husband y
5 she moaned. "Have you no word of com