The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-02-21
A Mountain Daisy.

We had travelled together for many 8
weary mile. [ was on my way to my
usual summer retreat in the mountains;
but even before I took the stage coach
my journey by steam had exhausted me,
so that 1 was in no humor to join i'll the
hilarity of my fellow travellers. We
jolted and plunged and crawled over the
hills to the paradise beyond; and while
they talked and jested, and oh'd and
ah'd, as travellers will, we kept On un-
broken silence-this fellow passenger
and I-striving in vain to shut out the
hubbub within by gazing upon the sweet
solitude without; and the bond of SYM
pathy between this straight, stern, sol
Uerly, middle aged man increased when
! found that he was determined to rid
himself Of the good-humored confusion
about him by climbing on the top of the
stage.
While We were changing horses, he
clambered up among luggages SO consid-
erable as to prevent the usual accomoda-
tion for deck passengers, and my face
must have shone a sort of despalrlng
envy, for he looked over and said 4:
"There is room, if you will venture up
here; but the evening air grows chill. If
you are not afraid of taking cold -
"I am afraid of nothing" I said,
desperately, "but this gabble and din. "
He put down his hand, and up I
climbed. With his portmanteuu and
shawl and an old mail bag he compassed
me comfortably about, and presently
the stage iolted on. I was alone with
my mountains, with the night, and the
stars, and my fellow passenger, vino
counted for nothing, because he neither
moved nor spoke; his sile face was as
rigid as if carved from one of the bowl
ders by the wayside.
It must have been five miles after this
that this bit of bowlder startled me by a
slight movement. found that he was
bending forward, gazing eagerly, with
his whole soul in his eyes, upon the
window of an old farmhouse on the
outskirts of the village. 1t was one Of
the upper windows, half raised, and the
head of woman appeared there in a
shadow SO deep that not feature could
be distinguished; but as we slowly pass
ed, an almost convulsive sigh escaped
the lips of my fellow traveller. He
r;-ised his hat from his head. Then I
plainly saw the woman's face, for it SEEM
ed to start forward suddenly, and even
the dim starlight revealed q surprise
upon it that almost partook of terror.
No longer young, but still beautiful,
that face was stamped with melancholy
so profound it haunted me. l looked Mt
that Of my companion. 1t was sunk
upon his breast, and just then saw the
sweet young moon climbing up into the
sky. And I thought what pity il
would be if he should look up and see
the new moon over his left shoulder.
The thought was SO tormenting to ne
that I spoke on the impulse of the mo-
ment. "Don't, sir" said" don't
look over your left shoulder at t',c
moon. Look over your right shoulder,
and wish. It is good omen, they s'll,.
He started, paused as if to gather the
meaning of what said, then looked over
his right shoulder at the moon his face
was s-full Of strong emotion, and his lips
moved. Then he turned to me, his face
melting into one of those rare smiles that
are so nice because they are so few, and
stretched over his hand. "Thanks,
he said, and we rolled up to the door OF
the hotel, where Mrs. Aiken was waiting
for me, with her comfortable carry-all
filled with the usual parcels and packages
for the farm.
But she could not find welcome for
me, SO taken up was she with my fel-
low passenger. Her comely, motllerly
face was all agape upon his straight,
stiff form, rs he lifted me down and
said goodbye, and disappeared in the
corridor beyond.
"Wa'al," she said, drawing n long
breath, that's either Major Jacques OF
his ghost. That does beat everything.
After all these years-Lord O mercy, il
that don't go ahead p
"And who is Major Jacques ?" sale
at last, finding myself the prey to de
vouring curiosity. "Do, please, Mrs
Aiken, tell me who is Major jacques ?
"Well, child, he made a sight o
roubie here a good many years ago