Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1881-05-11

"You are trying to mislead me,
exclaimed Barclay. "You are nc
spirit but a poor, starving, homeless
young girl"
He advanced towards her rs he
spoke and stretched out his arms to
seize her. In IN instant she seemed
uncertain how to act, then, even as his
hand seem to pass bodily through her
shape, she melted into the shadows Of
the place. This time he did not pur-
sue her. Her mysterious escape, which
seemed to confirm her own words, be-
gan TO impress him with the belief that
he had indeed confronted visitant
from the other world.
The next morning, however, cool re-
Election taught him that he might easily
have deceived himself in his excite
mcnt. He therefore resolved all the
more obstinately to pursue the inyesti-
CATION.
For two nights following he secreted
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 a human being and not with m
impalp able phantom.
On the fourth night Barclay again
sccreted himself in the church. Ii was
cold for the season, and he shivercd in
his hiding place despite his warm cloth
ing. Hour after hour passed away,
and he was beginning to fear that his
GRAND would again prove fruilless,
when faint light in the body of the
church caught his eye. As ii rose
higher he could see that it proceeded
from a small heap of sticks collected
upon the stone floor. Crouching over
it, and extending her fingers to the
fame, he beheld the figure of The
young girl.
Pulling off his shoes, Barclay crcpt
up behind her, and before she was
aware of his presence, seized her in hi,
strong grasp. Il knew YOU were not 4
ghost he said, smiling; though if
YOU continue this life much longer you
will become one.
spare me, she sobbed. am only
poor, homeless, friendless girl, who
never wronged any one. Why do you
pursue me|
For your own good, my poor girl, -
he said kindly. "Why will you not
believe me in my good intentions
"Why should II" she cried passion
ately. Did not my fathers trusted
friend the man who had sworn to be
second father, seek my life
"Ah" said Barclay, with start
"My conjecture was true then. He
decoycd you to the river, and after be
lieving YOU safely out of the way, he
left your coat and hat upon the bank
to give the impression that YOU had
committed suicide?'
Yes she answered, but the river
wac more mcrciful than he, for it east
me ashore alive. Sick with horror and
madly afraid of the whole world, |
came here where my father lay, to die
upon his grave. Now you know all.
If you are that mans cmissary may
God forgive you"
II am the emissary of mercy" re-
turned Barclay. 81 am here to do
justice on villain, and to restore YOU to
your rights. Will you trust and help
me 2"
She looked at him.
"You have a good face" she said,
offering him her hand, 81 will trust
YOU"
"Then," said Barclay, keep up the
character you have assumed for one
more day. Tomorrow night | shall
bring Eastburn here with witnesses.
Play the organ when you hear us enter.
When I turn the dark lantern upon
you, rise and denounce him as a muir
derer. We can safely leave him to
accuse himself"
81 will do as you wish she answer
ed. "How can thank you.?"
by following my directions" re-
piled Barclay.
With a few more words of advice he
left her. His next move was to go di-
rectly to the landlord of the inn, relate
the whole story and secure his support.
At 10 o'clock on the next night, in
company with the landlord, he called
upon Stephen Eastburn. Cutting
short his smooth salutional, Barclay
said:
"Mr. Eastburn, the obscure manner
of YOUR wards death has given rise TO