Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1883-07-20
THE HIDDEN HAND.
BY Mrs. SOuthwOrth.
AuthOr of "The Bride of an Evening"
"lhe Deserted Wife, &C., &C,
CHAPTER 4.
The Nocturnal Visit.

Whence is that knocking'
HOW is't with me when every sound appails me7
In the south entry Hark l-norc Inockngl
SHAKESPEARE.
Hurricane fall is large old family
mansion, built of dark, red sandstone, in
one of the loneliest and widest of the
mountain regions of Virginia.
The estate is surrounded on three sides
by range of steep, gray rocks, spiked
with clumps of dark evergreens, and called,
from its horseshoe form, the DEVILS
Hoof.
On the fourth side the ground gradual
" descends in broken rock and barren
soil to the edge of the wild mountain
stream known as the DEVILS Run.
When storms and floods were high, the
loud roaring of the wind through the
wild mountain gorges, and the terrific
raging of the torrent over its rocky course,
gave to this savage locality its ill-omened
names of Devils Hoof, Devils Run, and
Hurricane Hall.
Major Ira Warfeld, the lonely proprie-
tor of the Hall, was a veteran officer, who,
in disgust ut what he supposed TO be i'll
requited services, had retired from public
life to spend the evening of his vigorous
uSN oh thib Cbtutts lltlC
he lived in seclusion, with his old-fash-
toned housekeeper, Mrs. Condiment, and
his old family servants, and his favorite
dogs and horses.
In person Major Warfeld was tall and
strongly built, like some iron-limbed
Douglas of the olden time.
L, character Major Warfeld was AFRO
giant, dollineering, and violent equally
l,x,a1 a,1 faaraI L., fn,k eel al
ly servants at home; disliked and dread
ed by his neighbors and acquaintances
abroad, who, partly from his house, and
partly from its character, fixed upon him
the appropriate nickname of OLD HUR-
RICANE.
There was, however, other ground of
aversion besides that of his arrogant mind,
violent temper and domineering habits.
Old Hurricane was said to be an old bach
elor, yet rumor whispered that there was
in some obscure part of the world, hid
den away from human sight, deserted
wife and child, poor, forlorn, and heart
broken. 1t was further whispered that
the older brother of Ira WarHeld had
mystenously disappeared, and not with
out some suspicion of foul play on the
part of the only person in the world who
had strong interest in his "taking off. I"
However these things might be, it was
known for certainty that Old Hurricane
had an only sister, widowed, sick and
poor, who, with her son, dragged on a
wretched life Of ill-requited toll, severe
privation, and painful infrmity, in dis
tant city, unaided, unsought and uncared
for by her cruel brother.
1t was the night of the last day of o.
tober, eighteen hundred and forty-ive.
The evening had closed in dark and
gloomy. About dusk the wind arose i'll
the northwest. driving up masses of lead
en-hued clouds, and in few minutes the
ground was covered deep with snow, and
the air was filled with driving sleet.
As this was All Hallow Eve tue dread
full inclemency of the weather did not
prevent the negroes of Hurricane Hall
from availing themselves of their capri
cious old masters permission, and going
off in body to a banjo breakdown held
in the quarters of their next neighbor.
Upon this evening, then. there was left
at the hall only Major Warfeld, Mrs.
Condiment, his little old housekeeper,
and Wool, his body-servant.
Early in the evening the old house was
shut up closely to keep out rs much as
possible the sound of the storm that roar
ed through the mountain chasms, and
cannonaded the walls as if determined to
force an entrance. AS soon as she had
| seen that all WAS safe. Mrs. Condiment
| went to bed and to sleep.
1t was about ten o'clock that night that
Old Hurricane, wrapped up in his quilted
| flannel dressing gown, sat i'll his padded
arm chair before a warm and bright fire
taking his ease in his own bedroom. This
was the hour Of the contest enjoyment t.
the self-indulgent Sybarite. And, indeed
every means and appliance of bodily
comfort was at hand Strong oaken shut
tiers, and thick, heavy curtains at the win
dows, kept out every draft of air, and 81
deadened the sound of the wind that it
subdued moaning was just sufficient t.
remind one of the stormy weather with
out in contrast to the bright warmth with
in. Old Hurricane, as said, sat vel
wrapped up in his wadded dressing gown
reclining in his padded easy-chair, witt
his head thrown back, and his feet upol
the fire-irons, tossting his shins and sip
ping his punch.
On his left hand stood his coy bed
stead with its warm crimson curtains fes
TONED back, revealing the luxuriou
swell Of the full feather bed, and pillow
! with their snow-white linen and lambs
wool blankets inviting repose. Betwee
this bedstead and the corner of the fire
place stood Old Hurricanes ancient body
servant, Wool, engaged in warming
crimson cloth night-cap.
81 take this, said Old Hurricane, a
he slipped his punch and smacked his lip
81 take this to be the very quintel
sence of human cnjoyment-sitting her
in my soft, warm chair before the fir
toasting my legs, slipping my punch, Iii
: tening on the one hand to tho storm witt
out, and glancing on the other hand
my comfortable bed waiting there to r.
ceive my sleepy head.
81 wonder now if there is anything c
+ the face of the earth that would tenn
s me to leave my coy freside and {
a abroad tonight? wonder how large
i. promise of pleasure or profit or glory
:, would take now?"
!, "Mush as ebber Congress itsef cou
d give il it give you penance for all yo
s sarvins," suggested Wool.
:. Eyes, and more for / wouldn't lea
|. my home comforts tonight to insure II
only the pension but the thanks of Co
:, gress, said the old man, lreplenishing l
T. glass with steaming punch, and drinkil
y y it off leisurely.
", The clock struck eleven. The old M
- again filled his glass, and, while sippi
IN its contents, said
ne "You may fill the warming-pa a
warm my bed, Wool. The fumes of ii
pit fragrant punch are beginning to rise
te my head and make me sleepy"
The servant filled the warming-p
with glowing embers, shut down the i
and thrust it between the sheets to hi
the couch of the luxurious Old Hur
ne cane. The old man continued to to-
re his feet, sip his punch, and smack
es lips. He finished his glass. set it dow
rd and was just in the act Of drawing ON
III woollen night-cap preparatory to steppi
y. into his well-warmed bed, when he v
uldenly startled by loud ringing Of
hall-door bell.