The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1886-08-14

crests OF the waves hanging In the foggy
night. Now we were on the beach.
felt the seaweed under my feet and STUN
bled. Still the boy dragged me along
Now we must be on the brink of the water
I thought, and shivered Then put oul
my other hand and clutched at Sydney's
arm.
''In Gods name where are you going 2
l said in terrified whisper.
The boy did not answer. He stopped
dead. The darkness was thick about us
We were standing in mist, and even the
blurred stars had faded out. Suddenly
felt wave break over my feet. And al
that moment, kissing out and echoins
across the darkness, there grated in my
ears the sound of harsh and hollow laugh
the very laugh had heard in my dream
The gloom was so dense that | could
only see the outline Of Sydney's body
though I was grasping him with my two
hands. There was perfect silence. Still
l stood there motionless, rooted to the
rocks. Then l felt the boy start off again
toward the house. Another wave dashed
up against my feet, as l turned with him
and began to ascend to the gardens again.
The fog was growing thinner. Presently
it parted, and strong wind seemed to have
risen suddenly out ofthe sea. Now l could
distinctly see Sydney's eyes still fexed Oh
the invisible thing before him. could
see, too, that we were mounting the pale
avenue of fir trees, and from the distant
windows of the library dim light was
casting shadows down upon our faces. But
we did not make for those windows My
guide turned off to the left, and we entered
the deserted part ofthe house. felt utter
ly spellbound. seemed to have lost all
power of volition. IbelieveI should blindly
have followed that boy to my death.
We had plunged into labyrinth Of
shadowy rooms, leaving the outer air. How
we got into that part of the house l cannot
tell. | had not been there for years.
Sydney could never have been in it, and
yet he led me ON rapidly and never falter-
ed or hesitated once I think that the
moon must have come out, for there was a
faint light shining through the windows as
we passed, and by that light he guided me
We crossed several empty rooms and pas
sages, and at last came out into long cor
ridor That, too, we traversed. At the
further end a door opened before us. |
stepped through it into my own library,
and stood there in the lamplight gazing
stupidity into Sydney's face
He, too, had paused. But he never
spoke word, nor looked at me. His eyes
were fixed on tall bookcase in corner OF
the room. Presently he began to move
slowly toward it, and l, still holding him,
followed. Then, as we approached it, to
my utter amaZement the whole bookcase
swung back upon its hinges, revealing a
small closet which had never seen before
with some dusty rolls Of paper lying on a
shelf within it. With weird cry Sydney
sprang forward, wrenching himself from
my grasp. He seized the papers and, turn.
ing, thrust them into my hand. Then,
with his face as white as snow and eyes
distended, he raised one arm and pointed
to the window In another moment he
had tottered back and fallen on the floor
But / was already at the window. In
my frenzy dashed my shoulder against it
The fastening gave. The glass came crash,
ing down about me- l was outside, stand.
ing in the chill, blue night. Round me
the wind was whining and clustering, The
fog had melted away, Overhead the stars
were burning golden. The banished clouds
had gone. But no sign of any human fig
ure, man or ghost, was there. Only the
desolate avenue. with its fir trees bending
over it, and at the far end, in the dimness
the high moon over the whitened sea
When l went back into the library /
found Sydney in dead faint on the floor
l rushed to the bell and rang it till its
tones went pealing and clashing through
the house. Then I raised the boy in my
arms and carried him easily into the light
ed hall. The blood from the cuts of the
broken glass was running freely down my
face and hands. But | did not mind it
for / felt as if life had suddenly come back
to me. And when my mother aud the
servants came out and gathered, startled
and lamentiug, round US, | fell down on
my knees beside the boy and wept as never
wept, l think, before that day or since.
1 have no more to tell The closet in
the library opened, found, by secret
spring-but what hand opened it that ter
rible night 1 never knew: Among the
papers which Sydney had thrust into my
hand was the long lost document which
confirmed my title to the estate. Sydney
was for long very i'll, but at last, with care
full nursing-I know my mother and l did
all we could for him, and somebody else,
who shall be nameless, did more than we
he recovered, and has ever since remained
with me. Neither of US ever spoke much
of the things we had seen that Winter day
The mystery Of my inheritance is mys-
terry still, and men will bury it with us in
our graves Only this 1 know and will
tell you, that from that hour to this, sgd
ney has never seen ghast again.
So | am Grant of Tullybardane, and the
heiress of Glen Levannoch is my wife.