Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1871-11-18

u I" they are 30 gentle, SO inohGnsivt
:, and so tenderly attached to each otl
s er! They are twins and they hav
}, been so lovingly cared for that rough
D ness or severity would kill them,
warm weather ! cannot keep thGr
/ clothed--it is their only wayward
t ness. How they have eludcd on
watchfulness of late, Heaven Onl
knows! Matte says she is losin,
control of them. | suppose the,
: were attracted by the laughter ant
voices of your little ones!" An,
the poor wOman's tears NowcC
= afresh.
"This is not all, Mrs. Marston
There is another inmate of you
house that you have never mention
cd to me--yOur mOthcrw
81 have no mother" she replied
and | saw quick look pass between
her and the Scotchwoman.
Who, then, is this Old lady that
my children tell me Of? No more
mystery, if you please" said l.
quickly. "Whois this old woman ?
"Mrs. Westray," replied, slowly;
! "you know as much with regard to
her as we do, where she comes from,
or why she walks, VIC cannot tell.@
"Walks," said l. "What do you
mean by walks. "
"Oh! don't question her any
more" said Matte, imploringly.
"The innocents are all her trouble.
She thinks of nothing else. "
was determined to have an cXpla-
nation so on | went.
I" Is there any correction between
the strange yapor, which so annoyed
me in my bedroom when | first
came, and the appearance OF this
woman?"
Good only knows.' she replied
dreamily; eve cannot tell. We
heard strange stories Ofthe house be-
fore we took it. Our greatest in
ducement to do so was It's isolated
situation. need not tell you nor
why we shun society, and why we
pay so little heed to the strange
scenes which you have witnessed
here, and which are driving you
from us. can offer you no apology
for our deception. Indeed, we seem
to have lost ourselves, and all con-
sideration for others, in our sad and
engrossing realities.
My heart failed me. | had intcn-
to demand all explanation, give vent
to my just Indignation. and then
leave the house and its incompro-
hensible inmates forever. | now
found myselfheld back by two mo-
tives: First, felt that the weeping,
hopeless woman before me had re.
ceivcd almost as severe a mental
shock, in the exposure Of her hid.
den my stery, as | had in witnessing
it, Something was due from moth
cr to mother, and my heart whisper
ed how much could afford 10 offer
consolation and comfort to one so
sNrcly afflicted. Secondly, | felt an
irresistible curiosity concerning Mel
lies midnight visitor. Had the child
not seen it, the natural solution Of
the mystery would have that those
morbid people, acquainted as they
were with the antecedants Of the
house, might have imagined they re-
ally saw what they had heard so
much of, and no doubt had frequent
ly Conversed about Morbid people
are more or less the victims of bodily
ailmcnt, and it is well known that
there are conditions of the human
system when spectral illusions, such
as often torture us in troubled
dreams, become apparent to our wax
ng senses as realities. talked and
soothed Mrs. Marston into a state Of
comparative composurc, said no
more about leaving, and made up
my mind to be NcIlie's bedfcllow for
the remainder of my stay.
More than week had passed, and,
as there was no recurrence ofthe WIS.,
itatin, began to give up lying
awake and watching for the strange
and las the household considered
herr uncarthly visitor, when one
night was awakened by the rest
lcssness of the child. She was sit
ting up in bed, not startled, but evil
IDENTIFY deeply absorbed in something
he saw. moved to question her.
Mamma, she said, softly "arc
you awake?"
eyes, darling. Why do you ask ?"
"Because, mamma, she is there!
There. close to the table,
raised myself gently, determin-
ing to spring on the intruder at once;
but a glimpse of the face which peer
ed upon me from beneath the gro
tesque hood my child had so accu-
rately described, paralyzcd every
nerve. Not from its hideousness
on the contrary, it was a face that
had been beautiful, but it was dark
and foreign in its expression. And
oh that dreadful look of stiffness and
rigidity, which | felt in my inmost
heart had no sympathy with the liv-
ing things so near her. With my
child's hand claspcd in mine, | OBJ
served 1er move towards the door.
The blood rushed back to my heart,
AMI sprang from the bed to inter-
cept her. | reached the door, but
the ghostly thing had disappeared,
God knows where for the room
was locked on the inside. With my
sleeping child folded close to my bo-
som, | watched till morning.
The next day l left the Marston
house, for more cheerful quarters.
My new friends informed me that my
sojourn with these ill-fated people
had been unusually long. Strange,
mysterious stories had been connect
ed with the place for years. The
original proprietor was a French
physician, who lived for quarter Of
a century in the strictcst retirement.
lie had only one son, who, strange
to say, was an idiot. lis left the
ncighborhood suddenly, and, it was
said, died in France. There was
wild stories concerning him; but
what | did not hear or see myself, |
will not speak Of.
Among more genial and pleasant
associations, the memory of the un-
accountable scenes | had passed
through gradually faded away. |
never solved the mystery to my own
satisfaction. | only know these
things did occur in the strange home