The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-04-16
THE LOST CHIMES.
BY FRANZ MELVILLE.

in the old church of Holtug. Tt was a
very tedious job. and one that kept me
several weeks closely confined in the
glo' my sacristry, rOriug over the dusty
tones that recorded the births. bap-
tisms, marriages and deaths of several
bygone generations. My co-worker
was the aged sexton, whose name was
Chrlsten Hyerpope, man well known
to every man, woman and child within
twenty miles around. He was remark
ably reserved, reticent old man, who
never ventured a remark except in an
swer to direct question from me.
One day in going through the mar
rage register [ suddenly came to
page where there seemed to be a very
ugly hiatus in the records.
Christen," said /, "what docs this
A very peculiar expression came over
the old mans wrinked face, and /
noticed him trembIe slightly as he re.
piled sententiOusly, Thereby hangs
tale"
"A tale !" I exclaimed. "Bravo let
us have 1t then, by all mfans."
The old man hung his head for sew
eral minutes in deep and silent media
tlor, then, raising it suddenly, went on
to tell me the following narrative, which
l cannot hope to give in his peculiarly
impressive style and manner, but which
Is IN substance as follows
have been employed about churches
ever since / was little boy: in other
words, for nearly three score years
most of that time in the church under
which we are now sitting. The friends
OF my youth one by one passed away,
so silently, and their places were sup
piled by others so quietly and gradu-
ally, that 1t was not until a few years
ago that discovered, to my astonish-
ment, that the world had passed into
an entirely new set of hands. In other
words, L discovered that 1 had outlived
my own generation.
The story which am about to tell
you is not properly a ghost story, and
still less Is 1t love story. / have been
bachelor all my days, and do not care
to go back to the event that determined
this In all my life I have never seen
real ghost, though it does seem to me
that if the spirits of the departed ever
revisit the pale glimpses of the
moon, and show themselves to mortal
eyes, L ought certainly to have been
the one to see them. / am not a bit
supeIeIitlOus, SIR, not bit.
One Christmas eve, shortly after /
mad been made sexton, the pastor came
over to visit me, and 1 could see that
he was somewhat sgitated Said he
Chrlsten, I'm Ia a fix. The bell
ringer has been taken down suddenly
Ills SICK abed-and I've got nobody
10 peal the chimes tonight. He said
That You were the only man who could
do the thing properlyP'
Inc TACT is, 1t had been a habit of
mine invariably to spend my Christmas
ewes with the ball ringer of the Holtur
church. He was a man mncb oI5aT
than l., who was getting tofeel his wears
very perceptibIy. He had a verv pretty
daughter, and she seemed ALWAYS mar
tlcularly fond of my company.
thought it but a small return for his
manifold hndnesses to me TO assist him
peal the chimes, which, by the yav. is
MT Job for everybody's doing. I'm
der these circumstances, without the
least hesitation, L promised the pastor
that L would be responsible myself
that Just as soon as the clock struck the
hour OF twelve the Holtug chimes
should peal far and wide over the land.
as they had always done, from beyond
the memory of the oldest inhabitaDt of
the parish. For this he thanked me
warmly, and then departed.
As soon as he was gone / went over
to the hell-ringer's to get the tower
keys, and also some necessary direc-
tons. found him so Ill that I deter
mined to spend the remainder of the
evening with him. At precisely half
past eleven L stuck the heavy bunch of
Keys In my belt and started ont. The
Wlhd was "l wing strong and cold and
the night was dark as pitch. A number
OF the street lamps had gone out for the
want OIL OIL, and others had been extin-
guished by the violent gusts of wind
that made them creek and rattle. Not
soul seemed astIr IN the desO!ate
streels, and yet several times Thought
Illat heard footsteps close behind me.
Nltlout paying much attention to this
iact passed on, and yet could not be
mistaken there were stealthy footsteps
Just behind me. l was exDerieucinS
the tuii force OF this uncapny feeling
when suddenly party of Young peopIe,
Singing Christmas Carol turned tba
corner and also the drift of my tbouohts.
stopped with them several minutes To
exchange the greeting of the season
ana then babe them good night. This
maze me forget all about the suspicious
100 balls that fancied had heard.
=, "heh L reached the church-yard gate
the clock struck quarter to twelve.
aud Just as got inside of the cate
thought L heard the same mnh1ed.
guarded tread. l now felt pretty sure
that some one was secretly following
me. Suddenly l turned around and
looked back, but never a sound save
the wind IN the trees and tomb-stoDas
and the faint vibrations of the beIfrv
CLOCK last quarter-stroke never a
sight but the dark, low, sending
CLOUDS the black, gloomg church, and
the countless white tombstones. To
tel the truth was both too ashamed
ana TOO fright ned to go back and see
II anybody was really lodging me. | |
was rapidly becoming a coward. The
only way L could account for it was bv
supposlng that the hard work of the
previous night had supsrinduced a
temporary fit of weak nerves, fear and
superstition.
DesPlIe, however, my earnest efforts |
70 DANISH the unpleasant emotions pro-
duced by the stealthy footsteps. when
came to tit the big key into the lock
OF the outer church door an Irresistible
impulse compelled me to look back over
my shoulder. As said before was
not a bit superstitious, and as a general
thing my nerves were not particularly
weak, but the unpleasant and DISAGREED
able sensation that thrilled through me
was one never to be forgotten and not
easily described. I could not tell
whether 1t was the face of a man or a
ghost that saw peering so straight at
me from Just over the top of a grave
stone near by. Ny eyes encountered
other eyes. 1t could have been no an
partition, for it was too distinct, the
headstone being scarcely thirty yards
lt could have been no fleetiue vision
for was standing in the deep shadows
of the church portal, and could watch |
the face move slightly without its be. |
ing able to see that l was Watching If.
The tombstone behind which the body |
to which the face belonged was con. |
cealed stood some distance off from the |
path. A feeling of anger soon gained |
PredOminauce within my agitated |
h1urF0o nd l,,, III III L r.