The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-04-17
THE PARSONS LAST TEXT.

One afternoon in May, Prudence
Palfrey made her appearance at the
cottage in Horseshoe lane, and was CO.
icited by Salome to speak to the par
son, who had locked himself in the lit
tie room after the departure of the two
deacons.
1t was with an inexplicable sense of
uneasiness that Prudence crossed the
library, and knocked softly on the panel
of the inner door. The parson did not
seem to hear the Summons at all events
he paid no attention to it, and Prudence
knocked again.
"He's gittin' the least bit hard of
hearin', poor SOUL" said Salome.
"Mebbe he heard that, though" she
added, more cautiously, "for he al
ways hears when you don't s'pose he
will. Do jest speak to him, honey
he'll know your voice in mint"
Prudence put her lips down to the
key-hole and called, "Parson Will
bird-it's Prue-won't you speak to
mep
He made no response to this, and in
the silence that ensued, broken only by
the quick respiration of the two women,
there was 20 sound as if he were pre-
pairing to undo the fastenings. Pru-
dence rose up with half frightened ex-
preston on her countenance and looked
at Salome.
what can have happened ?" she
said, hurriedly.
Lord O. mercy knows" replied Sa-
lone, catching Prue's alarm. "Don't
stare at me in sech a way, dear I'm as
nervous as nothin'."
"Are you sure he is there ?"
"Sartin. all but see him goin' in,
an haven't ben out of the room sence.
He must be there"
''Is he subject to vertigo, ever %
Dunno" said Salome, doubtfully.
81 mean, does he ever faint ?"
"He did have curious sort of spell
two or three weeks ago an DIR. The
ophilus give him some medic for it. ="
"He has tainted, then Get a candle
quick. Stop, Salome, I'll go with
you"
Prudence was afraid to remain in the
library alone. She was impressed by
some impalpable presence in the half
darkness. The shadows huddled to-
gether in the corners. The long rows
of books, in their tin ed-stained leather
bindings, looked down sombrely from
the shelves. On the table was an open
volume, with an ivory paper-cutter up
on it, which he had b en- reading. His
frayed dressing gown lay across a chair
in front of the table. 1t seemed like
some weird, collapsed figure, lying
there. All the familiar objects in the
room had turned strange and Woe-b
gone 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 ?"
eve 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 few open, with
a shower of fl dust sitting down from
the Intel.
The girl retreated 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
Salome raised the light above Prue's
head, the figure of the parson suddenly
took shape against the gloom.
He was sitting in an old-fashioned
arm chair, with his serene face bent
over a great Bible covered with green
baize, which he held on his knee. His
left arm hung idly by his side, and the
forefinger of his right hand rested
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,
stepping into the small compartment.
Asleep !" repeated Prudence, the
treasured color returning to her cheek.
Salome laid her hand on the parsons
arm, and then passed it quickly over
his forehead.
"He's dead !" cried Salome, dropping
the candlestick.