St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1884-09-13

by running foomen beside the carriages
of the great The stables and offices of
the place were now falling into decay,
and the porte eOchere generally stood
omen until nightfall, when the gates
were locked.
We had been in the house for some
little time before we heard the stories
of supernatural sights and sounds con-
nccted with it-of figures fitting
through halls and passages the ghosts
of former occupants; of strange wins.
perin@s and uncanny DISCS. There GER
tainly were curious sounds about the
house, especially in the upper part.
where lumber closets were locked and
sealed up. through whose shrunken and
ill-titting doors the wind howled with
unearthly walls. In the dining-hall
was row of old family pictures. faded
and grim; and the popular belief was
that, at the switching hour" these
worthless descended from their frames
and held high festival in the scene of
former banquctings. No servant would
90 at night into this room alone or in
the dark. --5
We had with us young footman
called Carroll, the son of an Irish ten
ant: devoted to his masters, under
whom he hal been brought up. He
was fine Young fellow. bold as lion,
and ready to face flesh and blood in
any shape; but a very craven as re-
garded spirits, fairies and supernatural
beings. in whom he believed implicitly.
One night, after seeing the invalid set
tied to rest and committed to the care
of the appointed watcher, | came down
to the drawing room to write letters.
1t was an immense saloon, with
doubling and prolonging its dimensions
wide folding doors of looking glass
at the end | had been writing for
some time: far, indeed, into the ''small
hours The fire was nearly out and
the candles. which at their best had
only served to make darkness visible in
that great place, had burnt low. The
room was getting chilly. dark shadows
gathering in the corners. Who has not
known the creepy, shivering feeling
that will come over us at such times,
when in the dead silence of the sleep
ing house we alone are wakeful? The
furniture around begins to crack; the
falling of cinder with a clink upon
the hearth makes us start. And If at
such time the door should slowly and
soiemniy open wide, as doors sometimes
will, spontaneous" we look up with
quickening pulse. half expecting to see
some ghastly spectral shape glide in.
admitted by invisible hands. Should
sickness be in the house, and the angel of
death-who knows?-be brooding with
dark wing over our dwelling, the
nerves. strained by anxiety, are more
than usually susceptible Of impress
sions. ! was gathering my papers to-
gether and preparing to steal upstairs
past the sick-room. glad to escape from
the pereading chilliness and gloom.
when the door opened. Not, this time,
of itself; for there-the picture of alb
iect terror--stood Carroll, the footman.
He was as pale rs ashes, shaking all
over: his hair dishevelled, and clothes
apparently thrown on in haste. To my
alarmed exclamation, ''What is the
matter?" he was unable. for minute.
to make any reply. so violently his
lips We're trembling, parched with fear.
At last made out, among half-artlcu-
late sounds. the words, "Ghost, groans.
"O," [ said '.what nonsense! You
have been having bad dream. You
ought to know better, you who
NV homiiy was cut short by 8 groan
SO fearful, so unlike anything Ihad ever
heard or imagined, that | was dumb
with hon rOr.
,"Ah h h!-there it is again" whis-
pered Carroll, dropping on his knees
and crossing himself: while vehemently
humping his breast. he, as good
Catholic. began to humble with white
lips the PRAYERS for the dead. Up the
stairs through the open door the sounds
had come: and after few minutes.
they were repeated, this time more
family than before.
.I.et us go down and try to find ont
what it is | said, at last. And in spite
of poor Carroll's misery and entreaties.
making strong effort, took the lamp
from his trembling hands and began TO
descend the wide staircase. Nothing
was stirring. In the great dining room,
where | went in, while the unhappy
footman kept safely at the door. casting
frightened glances at the portraits on
the walls, all was as usual. As we went
lower down the groans grew louder aud
more appalling. Hoarse, unnatural,
long~drawn-such as could not be I'M
agined to proceed from human throat.
they seemed to issue from the bowels of
the earth, and to be re-echoed by the
walls of the great dark lofty kitchens.
Beyond these kitchens were long stone
passages. leading to cellars and pan
tries and servants halls, all unused and
shut up since the mansions palmv
DAYS; and into these we penetrated, led
by the fearful sounds.
All here was dust and deselation:
The smell of age and mould Was every
where; the air was chill; and the rusty
hinges of the doors shrieked rs they
were pushed open. soaring away the
spiders. whose webs hung in festoons
across the passages. and brushed
against our faces as we Went along.
Doubtless. for years no foot had in
vaded this dank and dreary region.
given over to mildew and decay; or
disturbed the rats, which ran scamper-
ing off at our approach. The groans
seemed very near rs now. and came
more frequently. 1t was terrible, in
that gruesorne place, TO hearkens to the
unearthly sounds. l could hear my
arnniynI ,,np,,o ,,;,v, .,llipr ,,,Cr ayary