Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-12-06

i iODgeo~-i Wouiu nave Bifoh "eaA
to have gone with you, but my foolish
pride forbade me. Twas determined to
prove to you all how brave was so
made up my mind to get through the
night as well as ! could. | did not feel
sleepy and shrank from getting into
that bed, which had been placed under
the shadow of the evil cabinet, so that
those grinniDg mocking heads would al
most have bent over me as lay there.
WNo; could not 60 to bed, so |
thought ] would sit by the fire and get
on with the book had brought with
we to while away time. The book was
"Villete," and was deeply interested
in it, though perhaps Lucy Shows ner-
yous terrors were not just the wisest
things for me to study in that place and
at that hour. suppose | had been
reading for an hour, with that sort OF
half attention which is not comfortable
reading. heard all sounds die away
in the house and knew every one must
be in bed. ! looked at my watch; 1t
was only half-past IL. What a long
night still before me Would it never
end? had looked carefully through
the room before settled myself to
read, and since then had never glanced
at it again, for had kept my eyes
fixed on my book or on the fire.
"'Annie Ralph From the first
moment sat there, | did not dare to
look about me, and | could not have
told you why. If one of you had come
to me then, | would still have braved it
out, still have laughed at my own fears
but there by myself so horribly alone,
so far from. human help. chill was
creeping over me-a chill Of the fear
which has chung to me ever since. l
made no more pretence of reading, but,
turning my chair still more into the
hearth, looked into the burning EN-
LeIs. The fire was getting low. and the
coal-box was quite near, but dared
not Use even to replenish it.
"sWhy did you not leave the room,
my darling, when you felt this fear?
Why did you not come to u.s.? asked
Ralph piteOusly.
- Because, love, / could not move,
because | was like one fixed in that
chair. twas horrible. | saw nothing
but the fire, and yet | began to feel
that near me, round me, everywhere
the space was peOpled, that though !
was alone, yet | was not alone in that
awful room. Then, Ralph, | tried to
think Of you, Of our bright wedding
day, when the completion Of joy was
to come into our lives and, love, |
could not think even Of you. Every
thought was being dragged away from
itself, was being concentrated into one
focus, the focus of unutterable dread.
| wanted to put my hands before my
face, and so shut out the fire which
frightened me, lest should see some
thing come between me and its dying
brightness, but could not move my
hands; | dared not.
g. now thought ] heard a sound
far, far away, and slowly, very slowly,
the sound came nearer; became more
distinct. 1t was like step, but not a
human step; there was no life IN its
dull noise, no echo came from 1t. 1t
did not come from the door, but seemed
to proceed from the oaken press. The
air was no longer still and warm as 1t
bad been. for felt anicy breath stirring
through it. Then shadow came be-
tween me and the lights, blight
ing shadow, for the candles burned
lower, flickered, blazed up once, then
sank into darkness. Only the fire now
ilumined the room, and that had GU
iious dimness over it. twas like unto
the shadow Of death which now COM
passed me all around, and still | did
not dare to move or raise my head, as
| crouched still lower down. Surely
the spirit of evil was abroad. No good
or holy thing was it which was shutting
out light and warmth, which was
bringing such agony Of dread to me
- Whatever 1t was, 1t now seemed
everywhere, and though lowered from
1t, though ! struggled to raise my
trembling hands as if in prayer to be-
seech its mercy, still the thing came
ever nearer and | knew / must look
upon 1t. felt my strength, my will,
was leaving me, and | knew not what
horrible power this was which was
taking me into its possession For
few minutes Nelly could not speak, but
lay shaking from head to foot. Then
she said, shudderingly:
60 Do not ask me what 1t was like.
| can never tell any one more than this:
That from the Face which peered into
mine proceeded wickedness, awful sin,
fendish cruelty. There was no hope
anywhere, none for me, none for 1t. |
felt as if | had entered into the very
blackness of darkness. In obedience
to this unspoken Will, | rose, pushed
aside the chair, and went to the win
dow. | think once, just once, | made
a feeble effort to turn back to the life,
and love, and warmth from which this
evil Thing was taking me, but it ap-
preached with threatening gesture, and
[ never again resisted 1t.
"'We, this thing and /, went out
into the cold darkness invisible hands
tried to pluck me back, to detain my
dress and hair, to hold me in their
grasp, but l had to follow, always to
follow, this form which went before me
into the gloom. At last we stood be-
meath a tree. was so weary longed
for Death, kindly Death, to take me in
its gentle grasp away from this unspeak
able Horror.
g. But rest was not yet come for me.
The Thing stopped, and with its hands
tore up the grass, signing me to do the
same, as if 1t and must see what lay
beneath us in the deep earth. strove
to obey, but my weak hands refused
their Office, and | fell to the ground,
and as / fell | saw that face pressing
closer down on mine | felt those icy
fingers on my brow, and | knew no
more Nelly's voice sank away into
silence, which at last was broken by
Ralph's loving words as he stroye to
bring comfort to her.
1--WE had heard her with infinite dis
tress. Whether some awful vision had