Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1876-05-02

crept away from the bed 10 the iarthesl
corner OF the room. lighted with shaking
hands my candle, looked anxiousIy
about me as / did so, expecting some
dreadful revelation as the light flashed
up. Yet, if you will believe me, did
not feel alarmed or frightened, but rather
oppressed and penetrated with an unnat
ural, overpowering sentiment Of awe.
seemed 10 be in the presence of some
great and horrible mystery, some bottom
less depth of woe, or misery, or crime.
j shrank from it with sensation of it,
tolerable loathing and suspense. 1t was
feeling akin TO this that prevented me
from calling to my landlord | could not
bring myself to speak to him of what
had passed. not knowing how nearly he
might be involved in the mystery. | was
only anxious to escape as quietly as pos
sible from the room and from the house.
The candle was now beginning to flicker
in It's socket; but the stars were shining
outside, and there was space and air 10
breathe there, which seemed 10 be want
ing in my room. So hastily opened my
window, tied the bed clothes together
for rope. and lowered myself silently
and safely to the ground.
There was light still burning in the
lower part of the house; but | crept
nolselessly along, feeling my way care
tully among the trees, and in due time
came upon beaten track which led me
TO road. the same which had been
travelling on tue previous night. Iva. l.
ed on scarcely knowing whittier, anxious
only to increase my distance from the
accursed house, until the day began to
break, when almost the first object
could see distinctly was small body OF
men approaching me. 1t was with no
small pleasure that | recognized at their
head my friend. the Cabo di Polizis.-
"Ah!" he cried. "untJItunale Inglese,
what trouble you have given me! Where
have you been {? God be praised that |
see you sale and sound But how What
is the matter with you9 You look like
one possessed?'
| told him | had lost my way ,and where
| had lodged.
And what happened to you ttere'
he cried, with look OF anxiety"
Il was disturbed in the night. could
not sleep. made my escape, and here
| am. cannot tell you more"
But you must tell me more. dear sir;
forgive me; you must tell me everything.
| must know all that passed in that house.
We have had it under our surveillance for
a long time; and when heard in what
direction you had gone yesterday, aud
had not returned, feared you mad got
into some mischief there. and We were
even now upon our way TO look Tor
you"
| could not enter into particulars, but !
told him had heard strange sounds, and,
at his request went tack with him to
the spot. He told me, by the way, that
the house was known to be the resort OF
bandilii that the landlord harbored them
receiving their ili-gotten goods, and help
ed them to dispose OF their booty.
Arrived at the spot. he placed his men
about the premises, and instituted strict
search; the landlord and the man who
wss found in the house. being compelled
TO accompany him. The room in which
| slep. was carefully examined; the floor
Was OF plaster or cement, so that no
sound could have passed through 1t; the
walls were sound and solid, and there
was nothing to be seen that could in any
way account Tor the strange disturbance
| had experienced The room on the
ground door underneath my bedroom
was next inspected; it contained a quau-
tity OF straw, hay, iire-wood aud lumber
IL vas paved with brick, and OIL turning
over the straw, which was heaped together
in corner, il was observed that The
bricks were uneven, as If they had been
recently disturbed.
Dig here,' said the officer we shall
find something hidden here, imagine
The landlord was evidently much
disturbed. Stop he cried. Il will tell
you who lies there; come away out OF
doors and you shall know all about it,
"'Dig, | say. We will find out for
ourselves
"'Let the dead rest, cried the landlord.
with trembling voice. For the love OF
heaven come away, and hear what l
shall tell you
"Go on with your work, said the SER
geant to his mep. who were now plying
pickaxes and spade.
81 can't stay here and see it, exclaim-
ed the landlord once more. Hear then
Il is the body of my son, my only son;
let him rest, if rest he can. He was
wounded in a quarrel, and brought home
here to die. Thought he would recover.
but there Was neither doctor nor priest
at hand, aud in spite of all we could do
for him he died. Let him alone now or
let priest first be sent for; he died un-
confessed, but it was not my fault; it
may not yet be too late to make peace
for him.