Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1884-02-05

some vigorous kicks to burst them from
their resting places in the wood.
knew that was only protected for ;
few minutes; that even if the thief wa
alone, he had but to continue to assail thu
door as vigorously as he was now doing fo
little longer, to gain fresh entrance init
my chamber.
I rushed to the window, l threw up the
sash, and bent half out. Into the clear
calm air Of the night I sent my strong young
voice.
"Help. help-thieves!-- -fire!-danger!--
help, helpp'
shouted these words over and over, but
there was no response except an echo. My
room looked into distant shrubbery; the
hour was late; the whole household IN bed
The thief outside was evidently making
way with the rusty hinges and | was pre-
pairing at the risk of any consequences, the
moment he entered the room to leap from
the window, when heard a dog bark.
Iredoubled my cries. The bark Of the
dog was followed by footsteps; they came
nearer, treading down fallen branches,
which cracked under the welcome steps.
The next instant a man came and stood
under the window, aud looked up at me.
/ PERCEIVED by his dress that he was a vii
lager, probably taking short cut to his
house. He stood under the window; he
seemed terrified; perhaps he took me fol
the ghost. He was not however, all a
coward, for he spoke.
'tWnat is wrong?' he said.
'This is wrong" answered: 81 am in
ertreme danger--srtren,e danger. There is
not a moment to lose. Go instantly--in-
slantly, and wake up tho house, and say
that I, Mrs. Crawford, am in extreme dan
ger in the Tapestry wing. Go at once-at
once!;'
spoke distinctly, and the man seemed
to understand. He few away, the dog fol-
lowing him.
instantly threw myself on my knees,
and in the terrible moments that followed
| prayed as I had never prayed before
Would the man be in time? Must my
young life be sacrificed?
All! no. God was good. I heard joyful
sounds; the thief's attacks On the door
ceased suddenly, and the next instant the
squire's hearty voice was heard.
''Let me in, Honor. What is wrong,
child ?''
| did let him ip, and his wife and several
alarmed-looking servants who followed af-
ter.
We instantly began to look for the thief,
but-mystery ofmysteries-he had disap-
peared.
That terrible man with the black hair
and white lock over his forehead had van
ished as completely as though he had never
been.
Except for the marks he had made with
his feet on the old oak door, there was not
a trace of his existence.
/ believe the servants doubted that he
had ever been, and only thought that the
young lady who was foolish enough to sleep
in the Tapestry chamber, had been visited by
a new form of the ghost. Be that as it
may, we never got clue to where or how
the man had vanished
Ten years later was again on visit at
Aspsns Vale. This time l did not sleep
in the Tapestry room.
| now occupied most cheerful, modern,
and unghost-like room, and but for one Cir
cumstauce my visit would have been thor
oughly unremarkable.
This was the circumstance which seems
in a wonderful way to point moral to my
curious tale. paid my visit to the Cliff
lords during the Assizes. Squire Clifford,
as one of the most Influential country mag
mates, was necessarily much occupied with
his magisterial duties during this time.
Every morning he went early into Lewis,
the town where the Assizes were held. One
he told us of ease which interest
ed him.
''He is hardened villain.' he said; che
has again and again been brought before
me, but has never yet been convicted. He
is unquestionably thief; indeed, one of
the notorious characters in the place; but
he is such slippery dog, no jury has yet
found him guilty. Well, he is to be tried
again to day, and I do hope we shall have
some luck with him this time"
The squire went away, and it came into
his wife's head and mine to pay visit to
the court, and see for ourselves the prisoner
in whom he was interested.
No sooner said than done. We drove in
to Lewis, and presently found ourselves in
the large and crowded building. When we
the case under discussion had not
commenced, but a moment fresh prisoner
was ushered into the dock
What was the matter with me? | found
my sight growing dim; found myself bend
ing forward, and peering hard. The memory
Of an old terror came back; the sensation
Of a couple of hours of mortal agony re-
turned to me again. Who was in the pris-
oner's dock? l knew the man. He was
my guest of the Tapestry chamber of ten
years ago.
There he stood, surly, Indifferent, with
his vast breadth and height, his raven
black hair, and that peculiar white lock
flung back from bis brow. He did not
glance at any one, but kept his eyes on the
ground.
could not contain myself; I forgot eve
rything but my sense of discovery. I start
ed to my feet and spoke.
"Mr. Clifford, I know that man; he was
in my room ten years ago. Doyou remem-
Der the night when got the terrible fright
in the Tapestry chamber in your house p
There is the man who frightened me. I
could never forget his face. There he
stands.'
Whatever effect my words had on the
squire and thei judge, there is no donbt at
all of their remarkable significance to the
prisoner. His indifference left him: he
stared with wide open and terrified ewes at
me. It was plain that if I recognized him,
he also recognized me.
All his bravado left him; he muttered
his face was blanched; then
he fell on his knees and covered it
with his hands.
My evidence was remarkable and conclu-
sive; and that day, for the first time, Her.
cules Armstrong was committed to prison.
He had long been the terror of the neigh
borhood, and no one regretted the just pun
sment which had fallen on him. What his
subsequent career may be know not. This
is the present end of strange and perfectly
true story.
BEAUTIFUL LEGEND.-Have YOU never
read Whittier's beautiful version of the
medieval legend of the ancient saint, who
was praying in his cell, when suddenly, as
in answer to his prayer, vision of his cru
cited Lord appeared to him? While he
yazed enraptured upon the vision, the bell
IF the monastery rang out the hour of noon.
It was call to him to 60 and feed the hun
cry, ragged, thriftless poor, before the
gate. Hesitating with heavy
heart and reluctant step, he arose, closed
Il