Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1886-10-15

pale avenue OF trees, and from the dis
tant windows of the library dim light
was casting shadows down upon our
faces. But we did not make for thoss
windows, My guide turned off to the
left, and we entered the deserted part Of
the house. | felt utterly spcllbound.
1 seemed 10 have lost all power of vo-
lition. / believe sho lid blindly have
followed that boy to my death.
We had plunged into n labyrinth on
shadowy rooms, leaving the outer air.
How we got into that part of the house
| cannot tell. had not been there for
years. Sydney could never have been
in it, and yet he led me on rapidly, and
never faltercd or hesitated once.
think the moon must have come out, for
there was faint light shining through
the windows as we passed, and by that
light he guided me. We crossed several
empty rooms and passages, and at last
came out into a long corridor. That,
too, we travcrscd. At the further end
door opened before us. / stepped
through it into my own library, and
stool there in the lamplight, gazing
stupidity into Sydnoy's face. He, too,
had paused. But he never spoke a
word, nor looked at me. His eyes were
fixed on a tall bookcase in corner of
the room. Presently he began to move
slowly toward it, and !, still holding
him, followed. Then, as we approach
ed 1t, TO my utter amazcment, the whole
bookcase swung back upon its hinges,
revealing small closet, which l had
never seen before, with some dusty
rolls of paper lying on shelf within
it. With weird cry Sydney sprung
forward, wrenching himself from my
grasp. He seized the papers, and.
tnrning. thrust them into my hand.
Then. with his face as white as snow
and eye distended, he raised one arm
and pointed 10 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 crashing down about me. Twas
outside, standing in the chill blue night.
Round me the wind was whining and
clustering. The fog had melted away.
Overhead tho stars We're burning golden,
The banishcd clouds had gono. But no
sign of any human figure, man or
ghost, was there Only the dcsolato
avenue, with its fir trccs bonding over
it, and at the far end. in the dimness,
tho high moon over the whitcncd sea!
When l went into the library found
Sydney in dead faint on the floor.
rushed to the bell and rang it TIL its
tones went pealing and clashing through
the house. Then | raised the boy in my
arms and carried him easily into the
lighted 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 sud-
denly come back to me. And when my
mother and the servants came out and
gathered, startled and lamentng, round
us, fell down on my knees beside tho
boy and wept as never | Iwcpt, | think,
before that day or since.
have no more to tell. The closet in
the library opened, l found, by secret
spring-but what hand opened it that
terrible night 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 lat
with careful nursing-I know my moth
or and l did all We could for him, and
somebody else, who shall be namclcss,
did more than we-hc recovered, and
has ever since remained with me.
Mother of us ever spoke much of the
things wo had so,n that winter day.
The mystery of my inheritance is
q mystery still, and mon will bury it
with us in our graves. Only this l
know and will tell you, that, from that
hour 10 this Sydney has never seen II
ghost again.
So l am Grant of Tullybardane, and
the hciress of Glen Lcvannoch is my
wife.-BoStoR Sand ~ Herald