The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-09-21

devant brOther-ln-law' foot, III sandal
clad, that he heard, and gave him quick
welcome.
The door opened of that he was sat
isfed, though he found it locked when
he went to 1t next, and recollected then
turning the key with mental hope that
no one would come to cause him the
bother of unlocking it. The room was
very light, for, looking to the south,
was a vast window reaching from ceiling
to floor, the heavy drapery of which
was Topped high up and apart. The
moon, in the full, was declining, and
swept almost every foot Of the floor with
her beams, so bright that one might
have read al ordinary book in the flood.
The door, however, was in the shadow,
and Roland continued his greeting.
sis that you, Bob2 Hurry up you
move as slow as a spook.
No reply was vouchsafed him, and the
football was quite noiseless on the heavy
pile of carpet. Roland strained his eyes
and presently saw in the edge of the
moonlight the bottom folds of woman's
black dress, white underskirt, and
light-colored shoe or slipper.
The idea of it's being a ghost never
entered his head; he thought the visitor
somnambulist, and having heard of
the danger Of suddenly awakening one
so circumstanced, he held his peace. The
woman moved slowly into the full moon
light, stood looking toward the window,
then faced about, presenting her profile,
clear as a silhouette, to Roland, who
recognized his visitor at once as Adelaide
Munthrope.
She remained standing moment, then
seated herself at the table and seemed
to grope over its surface, at first care
fully and then rapidly, as though dis
appointed at finding no writing mate
rails. Presently Roland's diary fell I'M
der her hand, and opening it and draw
ing the pencil from it's sheath, she wrote
for, maybe, two minutes. Replacing
the pencil, shutting the book and put
ting it where she found it, she rose,
looked toward the window again, and
went out, closing the door after her.
Roland heard her footsteps dying out
down the long echo-b breeding hall, and
sprang from the bed with perspiration
oozing from every pore of his body.
He Lit his lamp, drew on drawers,
slippers, and dressing-gown, thinking
meanwhile that there was something
queer about Adelaide Munthrope's pres
ence in the Grange while the owners
and occupants seemed so worried and
DESTROYS as to her whereabouts. Hastily
dressed, he took the lamp and walked
to the door, 1t was locked hard and
fast, even a chair, which he had moved
when he had entered his room, stood in
such position that the door could not
have been opened without striking and
pushing it. Roland gave low whistle,
stuck his knuckles into his eyes and
muttered:
"Pshawl what al ass I am. But it
was the most realistic vision [ ever ex-
perienced. It reminds me of many
psychological oddities I have read Of,
but never imagined I would enact N my
own proper person.
So satisfied was he that it was all a
dream that he did not touch his diary,
but extinguished the lamp and went
directly TO bed and to sleep.
In the morning he spoke of his
/" dream" to Bob, and declared his won
der at the exactness and order of the
whole affair.
"Have you looked over your diary?"
asked his friend.
ooh dear no. That would be ito
disturb my vivid recollection of the
scene. IF / found all blank in the book,
the dream would take rank with those
absurd ones that every man has gone
through, as well as myself, wherein I
have found myself picking up no end
of gold and silver coin, and never a
pocket to put it in; and those others
that have distressed me by picturing my
noble form parading the public streets,
full dressed, except as to the important
consideration Of breeches."
"Well, let's look it over, anyhow"
said Mr.. Robert Bullen. Your de-
scription is jolly dramatic, and if we
discover that you were walking yourself
and did some writing, while fancying a
proxy, it will be stunning tale to tell. !"
Roland produced his diary rather re-
luctantly, and proceeded to turn over the
leaves. Following his own entries,
WHICH were few, for the year was still
young, about dozen blank pages had
been scanned, when he let the book fall
into his lap, and turned pale as sheet.
He looked at Bob, and said slowly and
under breath
"By Jove, Bsb, it was not dream j;
it was an apparition. Don't laugh at
me !; but my nerves have gone down
about my heels; I never supposed that
I would be the victim of one of those
accursed visitations."
"Let me see," cried Bob, as he
snatched up the book ''yes, here is a
message, and in a womans writing,
plain as print and as steady as though
written by daylight:
g Il am i'll Brndsle Asylum. Come to me at
once. Soon it will be too late A. NJ
That's call you can hardly neglect
under the circumstances. What are you
going to do about it9"
Roland did not answer for full ten
minutes, but then said, in his firm,
manly 11opoor.