The Daily state journal. [volume] (Alexandria, Va.) 1868-1874, 1874-02-28
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evening State 9u,,rnaI.
SATURDAY EvEN'G, FEB. %, 1874.
THE PARSONS LAST TEXT.
BY T. b. ALDRICH.

-
This brings my story again to that after
noon in May, when Prudence Palfrey mad
her appearance at the cottage in Horseshoe,
Lane, and was solicited by Salome to speal
to the parson, who had locked himself il
the little room after the departure Of The
two dcacons.
1t was with an inexplicable sense of un.
easiness that Prudence crossed the library,
and knocked softly on the panel of the in.
ner door. The parson did not seem tc
hear the summons at all events, he paid
no attention to it, and Prudence knocked
--"He's gittin' the least bit hard of hear.
in, pore SOUL" said Salome. "Mebbe he
heard that, though" she added, more eau
tiously, 'sfor he always hears when
you don't s'poso he will. Do Jest speak
to him, honey he'll know your vice in q
mint"
Prudence put her lips down to the kew
hole and called, "Parson Wibird Its
Pr ue-won't you speak to me ?" Ia
He made no response to this, and in the
silence that ensued, broken only BY the
quick respiration of the two women, there
was no sound as If he were preparing to
undo the fastenings. Prudence rose up
with a half frightened expression on her
countenance and looked at Salome.
what a have happened?' she said,
hurriedly. 1z 81 Aa laihg :
"Lord o'mercy knows,n replied Salome.
catching Prue's alarm. "Don't stare at
me in sech a way, dear; Pm as nervous
as nuthin'."
"Are You sure he is therevn Ao
''Sartin. | all but see him goin' in, an
l haven't ben out Of the room sence. He
must be there"
as he subject to vertigo, ever ?n
"Dunno," said Salome, doubtfully.
81 mean, does he ever faint ?" 'ha
"He did have a curious sort of spell two
or three weeks ago, an DR.. .Theophilus
give him some medicine for it."
"He has tainted, then! Get a candle
quick. Stop, Salome, I'll 60 with you.n
Prudence was afraid to remain in the
library alone. She was impressed by
some impalpable presence in the half dark
ness. The shadows huddled together in
the corners. The long rows of books in
their time-stained leather bindings looked
down sombrely from the shelves. On the
table was an open volume, with an ivory
paper-cutter upon it, which he had been
reading. His frayed drcssing-gown lay
across a chair in front OF the table. |
seemed like some weird, collapsed figure,
lying there. All the familiar objects in
the room had turned strange and woe
begone in the twilight. Prudence would
not have been left alone for the world.
The two went out together for the
candle, which Salome with a trembling
hand lighted at the kitchen stove. Then
they fitted back to the library silently,
with white sharp faces, like ghosts.
"What shall we do ?"
"We must break in the door, said
Prudence under her breath. "You hold
the CANDLE"
She placed her knee against the lower
panel and pressed with all her strength.
The lock was old and rusty, and the
screws worked loosely in the worm-eaten
woodwork. The door yielded at the
second pressure and flew open with a
shower of fine dust sitting down from the
Intel.
The girl retreated a step or two, and,
shading her eyes with the palm of her hand, |
peered into the darkened space.
Nothing was distinct at first, but as Sa-
lone raised the light above Prue's head,
the figure of the parson suddenly took
shape against Inc gloom.
He was sitting in m old-fashioned arm
chair, with his serene face bent over a great
Bible covered with green baize, which he |
held on his knees. His left arm hung idly |
at his side, and the forefinger of his right
hand restly lightly on the middle of the
page, as if slumber had overtaken him so |
reading.
Laws o. mercy, if the parson hasn't
gone to sleep!" exclaimed Salome, step
ping into the nall compartment.
"Asleepl' repeated Prudence, the re-
as sured color returning to her cheek.
Salome laid her hand on the parsons
arm, and then passed it quickly over his
forehead.
'IIe's dead " cried Salome, dropping |
the candlestick.-From "I'rudence Pal
March Atlantic.
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