Mexico weekly ledger., 1877-01-04
THE PHANTOM LIGHT.
Am Exceedingly Thrilling but True
Ghost Story.
1t was about IL, o'clock at night. p

window in our drawing-room, which she
had thrown wide open. The day had
been most oppressively hot, but now a
faint breeze was coming in from the
sea, most refreshingly welcome after
the sultry, stiffiing heat of the day.
1t was quite dark-that soft, velvety
darkness that belongs only to q perfect
ly moonless, starless night.
Just down below our window Law the
yard Or two of garden, then the long,
straight line of the promenade, with its
asphalt walk and drive dimly defined
by q shadowy row of white posts con-
nected by ornamental chains Beyond
the embankment lay the wide, desolate
waste of sands, stretching away for
miles and miles on either hand.
The tide was far out, so far that only
a sort of pale gray gleam on the hori-
zon showed where The sea was just be-
ginning to creep over the shoals and
sand-banks off the Southport Coast.
Seven miles away to the right, across
the estuary Of the Ribble, the steady
light from the Lytham Lighthouse kept
Vigilant watch and ward over the dam
gerOus Horse Bank, that treacherous,
dangerous shoal on which many good
ship has gone to its doom of shipwreck
and death.
Nellie was leaning cut of the window,
her elbow on the sill, her eyes fixed on
the misty, soft darkness outside. It
was as dark inside as out; we had no
thought Of Lighting the gas that long
summer evening.
"How still it isl" she said dreamily.
"What q spell of solemn silence the
night lays on every thing!" ..
AS if to contradict her words, a faint
sound like far-off voice seemed sud-
denly to rise from the sands below,
and swept by with a prolonged, mourn
full cry.
"What is that?" she asked, startled.
"Some one calling down on the
sands," I said. 1.-THE intense still
ness carries the sound great distance
at night
81 heard such wild legend this
morning. she went on, presently,
connected with those great deserts of
sand that stretch over toward Lytham.
Old Joe, the boatman, says they are
haunted by phantom voice."a
"How thrilling!" [ remarked, skep-
tically. "What does it say?''
."Don't scott, Jean" said Nellie, a
little vexedly. "It's most pathetic,
dreadful legend. Years ago, before
there. was a town here at all, people
used to cross the sands between here
and Lytham on horseback. One stormy
evening traveller had crossed as usual,
and had almost reached the shore, when
suddenly bright light appeared, how
cred for a moment over a spot a yard
or two away, and then vanished. At
cry echoed all around. The horse be-
came wild with terror, and broke loose,
throwing his rider to the ground. When
he recovered himself, he found lying on
the ground at his feet the body of q
beautiful young girl. She was quite
dead, with q ghastly wound in her side,
from which the blood had flowed all
over her white dress.
"The traveller staggered away to the
nearest house, got assistance, and had
the girls body laid in an upper room
"That night an awful storm arose. A
ship was wrecked on the Horse Bank,
and only one man, the Captain, saved.
He was taken to the same house where
the traveller had already found shelter,
and, by some mistake, was put in the
room where the murdered girl was ly-
ing. At the sight of her he gavean ap-
palling shrek, and fell down senseless.
When he revived, he was questioned,
and confessed that the beautiful young
girl was his wife, whom in 8 moment
of rage and jealousy he had sta abbed to
the heart and cast into the sea. And
the sea had given up her dead, and the
waves had cast him on shore, and the
murderer and his victim were face to
face. And now they say the voice OF
the murdered girl haupts the, pla ce
where she was found. It seems to rise
from the sands, and goes echoing and
wailing along, calling, calling, as if In
mortal agony. The old boatman says
people have followed it, believing some
one was in peril, and nave, been forced
on and on, till the tide has overtaken
them, and they are drowned" ...
"What o horrible tale!" | said, with
a shudder. 81 wish you had not told it
to me-"
"And he says" went on Nellie, un-
needing my remark, ''that whoever
hears the voice is in risk of great peril
or danger, or some kind of sorrow OF
trouble is about to happen-to him."
Nellie s.veice had duneonsciouslyta taken
tone of awe. The still, somber dark
ness, the midnight hour, and the weird,
melancholy legend, had infected us
both with an, underlined sensation, OF
oppression and fear, a presentiment of
dread and evil. 10 tf"@s '#. ds gs'-.'
= We kept our places by the window,
looking out into the deep, yelvety dark
ness, with the far-away, solitary light
from the lighthouse cleaning like q
red spark. -~---s % Co.,
Suddenly, while we sat, the sound OF
q voice rose up again from the lonely
sands, a moaning, pfteous voice, wall
ing and imploring, as if in unutterable
Distress 1t seemed to mingle with the
boom of the distant sea, now rising,
now falling, a lonely, sdesolate wall,
thrilling, through, the darkness. like q
lsodl ia mortal agony. If was dying
Aan.17 -, *Io dSu+oAaa1 ~ o. IhftA 70 int