Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1883-07-16
CHAPTER l.

THE NOCTURNAL VISIT.
Whence is that knocking?
How ist with me when every sound appais
++*I hear a knocking
In the south entry! IIark more knocking!
SHAKESPEARE.
Hurricane Hall is large old family
mansion, built of dark red sandstone, IN
one of the lonliest and widest mountain
regions of Virginia. -,
The estate is surrounded on three sides
by q range of steep, gray rocks, spiked
with clumps of dark eyergreens, and call
ed, from its horse shoe form, the Devlrs
Hoof.
descends in broken rock and barren soil to
the edge of the wild mountain stream
known as 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 i'll omened
names of DEVILS HoOf, DEVILS run and
Hurricane Hall.
Major Ira Warfield, the lonely proprle
for of the Hall. was veteran officer. who,
in disgust at what he supposed to be i'll
reauited services, had retired from public
life to spend the evening Of his vigorous
age on this his patrimonial estate Here
he lived ia seclusion with his Old fashioned
housekeeper, Mrs. Condiment, and his old
family servants, and his GavOrite dogs and
horses.
In person Maior Warfield was tail and
strongly built, like some iron limbed Don
glas of the Olden time.
In character Major Wartield was AFRO
CANT, domineeriug, and violent; equally
loved and feared by his faithful old family
servants at home disliked AMI dreaded by
his neighbors aud acquaiutances abroad.
who, partly from his house, aud partly
from his character, fixed upon him the ap
propriate nickname of OLD HURRICANE.
There was, however other grounds Of
aversion besides that OF his arrogant mind
violent temper and domineering habits
Old Hurricane was said to be al old bach
einr. yet rum"r whispered that there was
in some obscure part of the world. hidden
away from human sight, deserted wife
and child, poor, forlOrD, and heat broken.
1t was further whispered that the older
brother OF Ira Warfield had mysteriously
disappeared, and not without some suspi
cion of foul play on the part of the only
person i'm the world who had a strong in
telest in his taking off However these
things might be, it. was known for Ger
tainty that Old Hurricane had an Only
sister, widowed, sick and poor, who, with
her son, dragged on , wretched life OF i'll
requited toll, severe privation, and pam
full infirmity, in a distant city, unai!ed,
unsought and uncareh by her cruel
brother.
It was tine night of the last day OF Octo
Der, eighteen hundred ana forty-five. The
evening had closed in dark and gloomy
About dusk the wind arose in the north
west, driving up masses Of ieadcn hued
clouds, and in 4 few minutes the & onnd
was covered deep with snow, and the air
was filled with driving sleet
As this was All Hallow Eve, tho dread
full inclemency of the weather did not
prevent the negroes of Hurricane Hall
from avail:ng themselves of their capri
cious old masters permission. and going
off in body to banjo break down held
in the quarters of their next neighbor.
Upon this evening, then. there was left
at the hall only Major Warfield, Mrs. Con
diment. bis little old housekerper, anC
Wool, his body servant.
Early in the evening the old house was
shut up closely to keep out as much Il:
possible the sound of the st Orm that rOart
through the mountain chasns, and can
nonaded the walls as if de tcrmined to force
an entrance As soon as she had seen thai
all was safe, Mrs. COndiment went to BED
and to sleep.
1t was about ten o'clock that night thai
Old Hurricane, wrapped up i'll his quilted
flannel dressing-gOwn sat in his paddct
arm chair before a warm and bright Ere
taking his ease in his own bedroom. Thi.
was the hour of the coZiest eujOyaan tt
the self indulgent Sybalite And, indeed
every means and appliance OF bodily
comfort was at hand. Strong eake1
shutters, and thick, heavy curtains at tht
windows, kept out every draft Of air, an(
so deadened the sound of the wind that it:
subdued moaning was just sufficient t
remind one of the stormy weather withou
in contrast to the bright warmth within
Old Hurricane, as / said, sat well wrapped
up in his wadded dressing gown, reclin.
ing in bis padded easy chair, with hi
head thrown back, and his feet upon th,
fire-irons, toasting his shins and sippiD!
his punch.
On his lett hand stood his cozy bedstead
with its warm crimson curtains festoone(
back, revealing the luxurious swell of tht
full feather bed, and pillows with thei
snow white linen and lambswool blankets
inviting repose. Between this beGsteat
and the corner of the fire place stood Ole
Hurricanes ancient body servant, Wool
engaged in warming crimson cloth
night cap.
"I take this" s,id Old Hurricane, as
he slipped his punch and smacked his lips
-"I take this to be the very quintessenct
of human epjoyment-sitting here in my
soft, warm chair before the fire. toasting
my legs, slipping my punch, listening OF
tho one hand to the storm without, anC
gIancing on the other hand at my comfOr-
table bed waiting there to receive my
sleepy head.
"Iwonder now if there is anything or
the face of the earth that wculd tempt aat
to leave my cozy fireside and go abroad
to night wonder how large a promise
of pleasure or profit or glory it would take
now 2"
"Much as ebber Congress itse'f could
give if it give You penance for all your
sarvinT," suggested Wool.
Yes, and more for wouldn't leave
my home comforts to night to insure not
only the pension, but the thanks of Con
gress, " said the old man, replenishing his
glass with steaming punch, and drinking
it dff leisurely.
The clock struck eleven. The old man
again filled his glass, and, while sipping
its contents, said
"You may Gil the warming-pan and
warm my bed, Wool. The fumes of this
fragrant punch are beginning to rise to