The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1884-09-04

oIS-sIlI sometimes TO De seen IN quaint |
old housesauss d in former times to put
out the. torches or links carried at night |
by running foomen beside the carriages
of the great. The stables and offices of !
the place were now falling into decay,
and the porte cochere generally stood
open 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
nected with it-of figures fitting
through halls and passages the ghosts
of former occupants; of strange whis-
perings and uncanny noises Therecer-
tainly were curious sounds about the
house, especially in the upper part,
where Humber closets were locked and
sealed up, through whose shrunken and
ill-ftting doors the wind how1ed with 1
unearthly walls. In the dining-hall
was rowrof old family pictures, faded
and grim; and the popular belief was
that, at the ''witching hour,f these
worthless descended from their frames
and held high festival in the scene of
formerbanquetings. No seryant would
go at night into this room alone or in
the dark. f5 as
We had with! us. a young ,footman
called Carroll, the son of an Irish ten
ant; devoted to his masters, under
whom he had been brought up. He
was fine young fellow, bold as a lion,
and ready to face flesh and blood in
any shape; but q 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
-4Wide, folding doors of looking glass
at the end. / had been writing for
some time; far, indeed, into the 'ssmall
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 hasnot
known the creepy, shivering feeling
when ina the dead silence of the Sleep
ing house we alone are wakeful? The
furniture around begins to crack; the
falling of "a einder with clinki upon
the hearth makes us start, And if at
such d time the door should slowly and
solemnly 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 bein the house, andthe angel of
death who's knows?- be brooding with
dark wing over our dwelling, the
nerves, strained by anxiety, are more
than usually susceptible of impress
sions. Twas gathering my papers to-
gether and preparing to steal upstairs
past the sick-room, glad to escape from
the peryading chilliness and gloom,
when the door opened. Not, this time,
of itself; for there the picture of alb
ject terrorAsstood Carroll 1.-THE footman.
He. was as pale as ashes, shaking all
over; his hair disheyelled, and clothes
apparently thrown on in hasteao To nay
alarmed exclamation, .What is the
lnatter?" he was unable, for a minute,
to make any reply, so violently his
lips were trembling, parched with fear
| At last made out, among half-articu-
late sounds, the words, i'tGhost, groans. =
CO.. / said. what nonsense! You
have been having a bad dream. You
ought to know better. you VIII" .
My homily was cut. short by groan
so fearful, so unlike anything had ever
heard or imagined, that I was dumb
| with horror.
a"Ahh-hA hABhere It is agalnp' whis-
pered Carroll, ll,.dropping on. bis knees
and crossing himself; while vehemently
humping his breast, he, as a good
Catholic, began to humble with white
| lips the prayers for the dead. Up the
stairs through the open, door the sounds
had come,5 and after a few minutes,
they were repeated, this time more
| family than before. "a sJ3 ls E=a
fs"..Let,us. go down and try to find out
what it is, = I said, at last. And in spite
OF poor Carroll Is misery and entreaties,
making strong effort, | took the lamp
| from his trembling hands and began to
descend the wide stairease.g Nothing
was stirring. In the great dining7rooD
where l 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 and
more appalling. Hoarse, unnatural,
I long drawn Asuch as could not be Inn
| sgined Itosproceed. from human throat,
| they seemed to issue from the bowels of
the earth, and to be re-echoed by the
lnwalls of the great dark lofty kitchens.
Beyond these kitchens were long stone
1 passages, leading to cellars and pam
tries and servants halls, all unused and
shut. up since the mansions palmy
days; and into these we penetrated; led
By the fearful sounds. IS @;e,e 81;
| All here was dust and desofatfon.
The smell of age and mould was every
Ewhere;s the air was chill; and the rusty
| hinges of the doors shrieked as they
were pushed open. soaring away the
| spiders, whose webs. hung in festoons
across the passages, and brushed
against oas faces assEswe went along.
| Doubtless. for years no foot had in
| vaded this dank aud dreary region,
taiFen over to mildew and decay; or
| disturbed the rats. which ran scamper-
| ing of at Our approach. The groans
seemed very near Us now, aRd came