The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1881-03-10
therefore resolved all the more obstinate.
iy tn nnfslIa thu inpestipatinn

therefore resolved all the more obstinate.
'y to pursue the insestigation.
. For three nights following he secre-
ted himself in the church and awaited
her appearance, but his watch Was fruit
less. This caution on her part fully
convinced him that he was dealing with
human being aud not with an impal'
. pable phantom.
Meantime in pursuance Of the suspi-
cion which the landlords story had i'm.
parted to him, he found a pretence On
which to make the acquaintance of Ste
phen Eastburn. The man impressed
him unlavorably at the first sight. Tall
and gaunt of figure, with small, restless
gray eyes and false smile, he seemed to
he capable of any villainy. The young
man was careful to avoid mentioning the
supposed ghost, and departed with an
invitation to call again.
On the fourth night Barclay again
secreted himselfin the church. It was
cold for the season, and he shivered in
| bis hiding place despite his warm cloth:
ing. Hour after hour passed away, and
he was beginning to fear that his errand
would again prove fruitless, when a
faint light in the body of the church
caught his eye. Is it rose higher he
could see that il proceeded from small
heap Of sticks collected upon the stone
floor. Crouching over it, and extending
her thin fingers to the fame, he beheld
the figure OF the young girl. Evidently
overcome with the cold, she had ventur,
ed to indulge in this small comfort in the
nope that it might escape notice.
| Pulling off his shoes, Barclay crept up
behind her, and before she was aware of
his presence, seized her in his strong
grasp.
II knew you were no ghost" he said,
smiling; "thuugh if you continue this
life much longer you will become one"
She uttered faint cry of terror, and
sunk upon her knees. - -.e-
'Spare me-" she sobbed. II am only
a poor homeless, friendless GIRL" who
never wronged any one. Why do you
pursue me7"
For your own good, my poor GIRL" he
said kindly. "Why will you not believe
me in my good intpntion7"
"Why should II" sne cried passion.
ateIy. "Did not my fathers trusted
friend, the man who had sworn to be
my second father. seek my life 7"
"Ahl" said Barclay, with start.
"My conjecture was true, then. He de.
coyed you 20 the river, and after believ-
ing you safely out of the way, he left
your cloak and hat upon the bank to
give the impression that you had com.
United suicide"
YES" she answered; "but the river
was more mercifnl than he, for it cast me
ashore alive. Sick with horror, and
nadly afraid ofthe whole world, / came
here where my father lay, to die upon
his grave. But it is hard for one 80
young to die. I have lived here these
three months. suffering, freezing.dying.
That / was taken for my own ghost was
fortunate for me, for it kept every one
sway from me, and aided me TO get what
little would keen me alive, after night
fall. And encouraged the superstition.
Now you know all. Ifyou are the mans
emissary, may God forgive you and help
me-"
clam the emissary Of mercy" return.
ed Barclay. 81 am here to do justice to
Il villain and to restore you to your
rights. Will you trust and help me?"
She looked at him.
....You have good, kind face" she said,
offering him her hand, II will trust
you" -.
"Then," said Barclay, "keep up the
character you have assumed for one more
day. To morrow night shall briur
Eastburn here with witnesses. Do you
play on the organ when you hear US en-
| ter. When turn the dark lanter upon
you, rise; aud denuunce him as mur
derer. We eau safely leave him to &C.
cuse himself"
II will do as you WISH" she answered,
brokenly. How can thank your"
''By following my directions" replied
Barclay, brusquely, to hide his own emo
lion.
With few words more of advice he
| left her. His next move was to go directly
to the landlord of the inn, relate the
whole story. and secure his support.
At ten o'clock on the next night, in
company with the landlord, he called
upon Stephen Eastburn. Cutting short
his smonth salutation, Barclay said:
'.Mr. Eastburn, the obscure manner of
your wards death has gwen rise to-
strange rumors in the village. Her
spirit is said to wander in the old church.
We desire you to accompany us there
tonight in order to set these stories at
rest"
Eastburn's jaw dropped, his face grew
livid, aud he was barely able to reply in
quivering voice.
aGhost absurd Do you mean to
make fool of me? will not 60 to the
church this hour of the night" :.
"A,low me to observe" said Barclay,
sternly, "that the rumora, unless you aid
in dissipaiing theu, may culminate in
charge of murder"
Something significant in his tone
seemed to render Eastburn suddenly sub
missive.
"Of course will 60, out of politeness,
if you insist. We shall probably bag u
church mouse. They are proverbially 80
starved a. to be incapable Of flight"
No reply was made to his lame at
tempt ut humor, and in q very uncomfor.
luble frarne of mind he went with them
to the church, and was shown into pew
| in the dark between them. After mo.
ment's silence the low tones of the organ
sounded through the church, accompa.
MED by woman's voice.
"Wbat is this?" cried Eastburn, start
ing up. "Whose voice il ,hat7"
"Be silent" said Barclay, sternly.
Good reason have you to hear that voice
with guilty horror
At the same instant the glass from his
lantern fell broadly upon the organ.
Standing before it, looking down at them,
| was the figure of Ada Morton.
"Oh, Gud," groaned Eastburn, chok'
ingly. My sims have found me out:
She has come back from the other world
to accuse me of her death.
Eyes" said the girl sulemnly. "ste.
pheu Ea>tburn, you are my murderer"
s.I confess it, "Shrieked the terror.mad
dened wretch. II ask no mercy from
! 4