, 1877-05-25


brighter. When l had done this and
finished my supper, L drew an arm
chair to the fire, mixed myself a stif
meershaum pipe. and commenced
reading one of my most favorite tales of
terror and imagination. | had Just
reached the most thrilling situation,
when the parlor door was thrown vio-
lently open, aDd Janet Gruesome rushed
into the room.
Master" she whispered in trembling
tones, the secret d0Orls open, and it's
coming out.
ITS coming ont?" cried, 'What is
coming out?"
The ghost, master; it'scoming down
stairs a-following of me-
Then shut the door, you idiot" I
exclaimed. for to tell the truth L
never felt less inclined to see a ghcst IN
all my life, "and bolt itr'
She turned to obey my orders, but
was too late, for at that very moment
a venerable white haired old gentleman,
/ clad in a velvet dressing-gown and scar
/ let slippers entered the room.
81 beg your paldon," he said rather
nervously. 81 hope 1 do not disturb
you. l was not aware you haunted to-
night. 1 believe you are fresh ghosts,
or"-here he lowered his voice-"are
you ghosts in embryo?"
Sir" exclaimed, 'you must know
that this house is mine"
"Indeedm said the creature, sitting
down in my armchair and drinking my
grog; "has my cousin Tom let it to you,
or are you a Balcombe?"
81 am not Balcombe," cried, i'm
patiently, for I knew now he could not
be ghost-spectres don't drink spir-
its; "still, this house is mine; from
the chimneypots to the cellars, all"
but one ROOM" interrupted my
mysterious guest; "that Tom could
not-would not-let. You would not
have been happy had he done SO. I
keep the ghosts in there. Sometimes
one or two escape, and then come
out to hunt for them. I thought you
were ghosts-stray ones, you know
at first. I'll take little more brandy
and water. That room is cold, and
ghosts are dull fellows at best; they are
never lively. Come, my dear sir, sit
down and be cheerful"
Man or ghost, the creature evidently
knew the art of making himself at home.
He mixed some more brandy and water,
then took up my pipe, lit it and COM
menced smoking.
"Janet" 1 whispered, she is not
| ghost; he is a mailman"
"Madman" cried the thing, looking
up suddenly, for his ears were evident
ly az sharp as his eyes. "Madmanl
why that is what cousin Tom used to call
me, but he was wrong. 1 was mad when
1 had fierce passions and tried to strangle
him; but then the change came. and 1
was light, etheral-a spirit. Tom saw
this, and knowing that talked to the
ghosts of our ancestors, gave me room
to collect them in. That's the room.
Give us some more glasses" he con-
tinued, turning to Janet, ''more
glasses and pipes; we will be merry"
"He is mad" whispered. "Do as
he bids you; we must humor him.
But hurry back, Janet"
"Come! that looks WELL" he cried,
when we all had some hot grog, and 1
was smoking. "Your health, Mr.-I
beg pardon. what name?"
"Judberry, sir" l replied sternly,
"Judberry.'
"Judberry, Judberry ?" he muttered,
absently; don't know the name. Per-
haps he is butler. -
'No, sir" exclaimed swelling with
indignation 81 am not butler. This
house is mine, sir; the brandy you are
drinking is mine, sir; and the pipe you
are smoking is mine, sir"
"All of them very nice, too, Mr.. Jud-
berry, am sure" he answered, calmly
putting out his smoke and closing his
bright eyes in luxurious enjoyment;
Every nice indeed. So you are Judber-
ry? I am Briareus Balcombe. You
know me, of course?"
"I can't say do, sir. To tell you the
truth, never saw or heard of you un-
til now-and," added to myself, ST
never wish to again"
Never heard of me?" he cried in as
tonishment. Then lowering his voice
to a sweet melancholy, he added, "then
] will tell you my history. Be silent;
stir not, but listen to the history of Bri-
areus, the poet of the Balconies; the
betrayed lover-he of the broken
heart"
I was in my glory-I was about to
hear the mystery Of the Bluebeard
chamber.
when I was but a youth" COM
menced Briareus, ''my uncle, who then
owned this mansion, returned from
Italy, bringing with him lovely girl.
How can 1 describe her beauty? 1t is
impossiblel 1t was the beauty of a
dark, wild night, wherein the placid
moon and gentle stars are shining, yet
the signing of the wind proclaims the
coming storm. So shone her glorious