Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1885-10-01
HAT DID | SEES

oibc III tno WORTH quite 50 utterly aD-
surd as a ghost story. 1 had not tho
slightest belief in ghosts or appari-
tions. did not believe any person
had ever seen anything of the sort,
but that some honest person thought
they had, and, from deceiving them
selves, they had deceived others. /
argued that all supernatural visitaDts
could be accounted for in one of two
ways tine person seeing them was
either unsettled in mind or 1t was the
result of an illness which could be ex-
planned by purely natural causes if
people would investigate the matter
thoroughly. But have changed my
views on this subject. / think all of
us change our views and beliefs as we
90 on in life, and many things we
scofl at in early days, We think more
seriously about as we grow older, and
begin TO doubt the wisdom of our
earlier, rasher judgement.
Perhaps there are no such things as
ghosts. l am not prepared to say
there are, and cannot say there are
not. But that some very strange and
uneXplanable things occur, in which
we see, or believe we see, persons who
have shaved off the garments of the
earth. and belong henceforth to an
other world than ours, 1 cannot at
tempt TO deny. | dare not, for have
rot but let me begin at the be-
ginning and tell you my story. Then
you can Judge for yourself whether l
have not had good reason for revoking
my early decision regarding the utter
absurdity of the existence of ghosts.
In the summer of 1870 l was in
Rome. | had been travelling in Eu-
rope for year. Ny journey had
ended in the Eternal City, where l
was resting for few weeks before
sailing for home.
One evening l sat at the window of
my room and looked out upon the
glory of an Italian landscape illumi-
mated by the silver light of such a
moon us no other country ever sees.
1t was the most beautiful evening /
had ever seen. IL was like something
out of a dream. Below me lay the
sleeping city, bathed in white radi-
ance. Beyond the walls the hills
rose. vague yet wonderfully distinct,
with silver haze filling tho hollows
between them like a sea. 1t was the
hour for dreams and all sorts of ro-
mantle fancies, and / remember wish
ing a fairy shallop would sail across
the sea of haze out OF which the hills
lifted their SUBMITS like islands.
"The Island of the Blest," said u
myself half smiling at the poetic
mood | had fallen into Here is
earth and yonder Heaven"
i ell in nf fhnon litfla
projecting windows which one so oft
en- sees in Rome and other Italian cit
les. A perfect network OF vines
clambered about it, and the moon.
! light made black patterns of them on
the floor as the slight wind blew them
across the window. The hour was
quite late. could not hear the sound
of any living thing, l remember, as
listened. The world seemed to have
gone TO sleep. l had stayed up tc
smoke another cigar, after the friends
who had spent the evening with me
had gone sway.
Suddenly thought of John Graylt
came into my mind. John and haC
been the best of friends in gone-by
days. We had been students togeth
err. and in after-school life we haC
kept up the friendship student-lif'
had begun. OF all my friends count
ed John Grayle first. looked for
ward to my meeting with him as on
OF the pleasantest events OF my re
turn.
A strange sensation came over me
IL was very much the same feeling a
that we have when we feel that som,
one is looking at us, and look up t,
moet persons eyes. 1t seemed t
me that John was near me. / coul'
feel his presence.
Suddenly the houses faded out o
sight, and the hills were swallowed NJ
in tile white sea of moonlight Be
fore me arose vapor that wa
strangely luminous. 1t floated up an
about my window, and there slowl
resolved itself into shape like that @
a person. II was like shadow grow
ing out of Il shadow shadow cor
dcnsing and taking on the look Of sut
stance, yet remaining all the time
eued. and l shut my eyes to keep on
the strange sight, but, as If fascinate
by what had seen, opened ther
again and saw-John Grayle!
The features of the man / saw, G
! the shadow-had all the distinctnes
of life. Even the garments it wor
werc so plainly outlined against tn
moonlight acting as background, thu
I could describe them afterwards.
saw everything in the one brief mt
ment.
"Johnr' l cried, "what does tn
meanP"
IL have come to tell you to look
the hollow oak at Densmere," hear
a voice make answer. There yc
will find proofs of who has done thi
Then the shadow lifted shadow
hand and pointed TO gaping woun
In his breast, from which the shade
, garment fell away that ] might 81
what he called my attention to. The
, there was a sound like the rustling
a wind among the corn. and the fg'
see med to dissolve before my eyes.
saw it one moment, faint, vague, sha
!, owy, and the next it was gone.
Had been dreamingp shook m
self. got up and walked about u
room. satisfied myself that was
wide awake as ever was in my III
II / had no: been dreaming what w
IL had seenP
: A month later sailed for Americ
The first person to meet me when
|, stepped ashore, was Carl Thiel, an o
, artist friend.
; "Have you heard that terrible $40
! about John Grayle's MURDER"
: asked as we walked up the street
gether.
"John Grayle's murderP" ! erie