The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1877-03-02

A THRILLING BUT TRUE GHOST STORY.


Nellie and were sitting in our draw
ing-room, by the bow-window, which
she had thrown wide open. The day
had been most oppressively hot, but
now faint breeze was coming in from
the sea, most refreshingly welcome after
the sultry, sitting heat of the day. 1t
was quite dark-that soft, velvety dark
ness that belongs only to perfectly
moonless, starless night.
Just down below our window lay the
yard or two of garden, then the long,
straight line of promenade, with its as
phalt walk and drive dimly defined by
a shadowy row of white posts connected
by ornamental chains. Beyond the en-
bankment 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 pale-gray CLEAN
on the horizon showed where the sea
was just beginning 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 light
house kept vigilant watch and ward over
the dangerous Horse Bank, and treach-
erous, dangerous shoal on which many
good ship has gone to its doom of
shipwreck and death.
Nellie was leaning out of the window,
her elbow on the sill, her eyes liked on
the misty, soft darkness outside. 1t
was as dark inside as out-we had no
thought of lighting the gas that long
summer evening.
"How still it is p she said, dreamily.
"What spell of solemn silence the
night lays on everything y
AS if to contradict her words, {. 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
beach," I said. "The intense stiffness
carries the sound a great distance at
night,
II heard such a wild legend this
morning." she went on, presently, ICON
nected with those great deserts of sand
that stretch over towards Lytham. Old
Joe, the boatman, says they are haunted
by O phantom voice."
"How thrillingw remarked, scep-
tically. "What does it say?"
Don't scoff, JEAN" said Nellie, a
little vexedly. 1t is a most pathetic,
dreadful legend. Years ago, before
there was town here at all, people used
to cross the sands between here and Ly
than on horseback. One stormy even
ing traveller had crossed as usual, and
had almost reached the shore, when sud-
denly bright light appeared, lowered
a moment over spot q yard or two
away, and then vanished. At the same
moment piteous, unearthly cry echoed
all around. The horse became wild
with terror, and broke loose, throwing
his rider to the ground. When he re-
covered himself he found, lying on the
ground at his feet, the body of beau
tiful young girl. She was quite dead
with CHASTITY wound in her side, from
which the blood had flowed all over her
white dress. The traveller staggered
away to the nearest house, got assist
ance, 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 mantle
captain-saved. He was taken to the
same house where the traveller had al
ready found shelter, and, by some mis-
take, was put into the room where the
murdered girl was lying. At the sight
of her lie gave an appalling shrek and
fell down senseless. When he revived
he was questioned, and confessed that
the beautiful young girl was his wife,
whom, in a moment of rage and jeal-
ousy, he had stabbed 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 that the voice of the MUIR
dered girl haunts the place where she
was found. 1t 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 followedit, believing some one was
III peril, and have been lured on and on,
till the tide has overtaken them. and
they were drowned"
"What horrible tale y / said with
shudder. II wish you had not told
it to me-"
"And he says" went on Nellie, I'M
needing my remark, that whoever
hears the voice is in risk of great peril
or danger, or some kind of sorrow or
trouble is about to happen to him."
Nellie's voice had unconsciously taken
q tone of awe. The still, sombre dark
ness, the midnight hour, and the wierd,
melancholy legend had infected us both
with an underlined sensation Of oppres-
sion and fear, a presentiment of dread
and evil. We kept our places by the
| window. looking ont into the deem. vel