The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1884-08-08


any shape; but a very craven as re.
gaRied spirits, fairi 5 aud 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 10 write letters
Ii 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 ut such times,
when in the dead silence of the sleep
ing house we alone are-wakefol2 Fhe
furniture around begins to crack; the
falling of cinder with clink upon
the hearth makes us start. And If at
such a 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 CHASTITY 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 mora
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 pervading chilliness and gloom.
when the door opened. Not, this time,
of itself; for there-the picture of alb
ject terror-stood Carroll, the footman.
He was as pale as 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 were trembling. parched with fear.
At last made out, among half-artieu-
late sounds, the words. ''Ghost, groans.
60" | said. .'what nonsense, You
have been having a bad dream. You
ought to know better, you who
My homily was cut short by groan
so fearful, so unlike anything had ever
heard or imagined, that | was dumb
with horror.
.'Ah-h -h.-there it is againm whis4
pered Carroll, dropping on his 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; and after few minutes,
they were repeated, this time more
family than before.
''Let us go down and try to find out
what it is, / said, at last. And in spite
of poor CAROLS misery aud entreaties,
making a 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 st the portraits oa,-
the walls, all was as usual As we went
lower down the groans grew louder and
more appalling. Hoarse, unnatural,
long drawn-such as could not be i'm
agined 10 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 palmy
days; and into these we penetrated, led
by the fearful sounds.
All here was dust and desolation.
The smell of age and mould was every
where; the air was chill; and the rusty
hinges of the doors shrieked as they
were pushed open, soaring away the
spiders, whose webs hing 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 US now, and came
more frequently. 1t was terrible, in
that gruesome place, to hearken TO the
unearthly sounds. | could hear my
agonized companion calling upon every
saint in the calendar TO take pity upon
the soul in pain. At length there came
groan more fearful than any that had
been before. 1t rooted us to the spot.
And then was utter silence
After long, breathless pause. broken
only by the gasps of poor Carroll in his
paroxysm of fear, we turned, and re-
traced our steps towards the kitchens.
The groans had ceased altogether.
at is now over, whatever it was, L
said. ..All is quiet; you had better go
to bed"
He staggered off to his room; while,
chilled TO the marrow. crept up stairs.
not little shaken, must confess, by tho
nights doings.
Next day was bright and fine. My
bedroom looked to the street; and soon
after rising ! threw open the window to
admit the fresh morning air. There
was little stir outside. The porte
cociere gates were wide open, and q
large cart was drawn up before them.
Men with ropes in their hands Were
bustling about. talking and gesticu
lating; passers-by stopped to look; and
boys were peering down the archway
at something going on within. Soor
the object of their curiosity was brough.
to light. A dead horse was dragged ur
the passage, and after much tugging
and pulling, was hauled up on the can
and driven away.
1t appeared that at nightfall of the
previous day the wretched animal was
being driven 20 the knacker's; and stray
ing down into our archwav, while the
man who had him in charge was talk
ing to friend. he fell over some ms
chinery that stood inside, breaking =
limb, and otherwise frightfully iniur-
ing himself. Instead OF putting the
poor animal out OF pain at once. his in
human owner left him to die linger-
ing death in agonies; and his miserable
groans, magnitied by the reverberatiop
Of the hollow archway and echoing
kitchens, had been the cause of onT
nocturnal alarm.
Carroll shook his head and looked in
credulous at this solution OF the mrs.
terry, refusing, with the love of his class
for the supernatural. to accept II
Though years have since then passed
over his head. tinging his locks with
gray. and developing the brisk, ap;le
foctman into the portly. wbite-chokered
pompous butler, he will still cleaye tn
his first belief, and stoutly affirm that
flesh and blood had nought to do Will
1o ~. m a. Il -.