The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1888-09-08

STOOD gazing rouhu 1he uoor WHICH we hau
entered closed as quietly as it had BET IRE
opened; we were imprisoned.
For the first time / felt creep of IN
defnable horror. Not so my servant.
"Why they don't think to trap us, sir,
could break that trumpery door with a
kick of my foot"
"Try first if it will open to your hand,
said 1, shaking off the vague apprehension
that had seized me, "while l open the
shutters and see what is without
1 unbarred the shutters: the window
looked on the little back yard 1 have be-
fore described; there was no ledge without,
nothing but sheer descent. No man get
ting out of that window would have found
any footing till he had fallen on the stones
below.
meanwhile was vainly attempting
to open the door. He now turned round
to me and asked my permission to use
force, And should here state, in justice
to the servant, that, far from evinciRg any
superstitious horror, his nerve composure,
and even gayety amidst circumstances SO
extraordinary, compelled my admiration,
and made me congratulate myself on having
secured a companion in every way fitted to
the occasion. willingly gave him the
permission he required. But, though he
was a remarkably strong man, his force
was as idle as his milder efforts; the door did
not even shake to his stoutest kick. Breath
less and painting, he desisted. then tried
the door myself, equally in vain. As l
ceased from the effort, again that creep of
horror came over me; but this time it was
more cold and stubborn. felt as if some
strange and CHASTITY exhalation was rising
from the chinks of that rugged floor filling
the atmosphere with venomous influence
hostile to human life. The door now very
slowly and quietly opened as of its own
accord, We precipitated ourselves into
the landing-place. We both saw large,
pale light-as large as the human figure,
but shapeless and unsubstantial-move
before us and ascend the stairs that led
from the landing into the attics follow
ed the light, and my servant followed me.
1t entered, to the right of the landing,
small garnet, of which the door stood open
ed. l entered in the same instant. The
light then collapsed into small globule,
exceedingly brilliant and vivid; rested "a
moment on bed in the corner, quivered,
and vanished.
We approached the bed and examined
it-a half tester, such as Ia commonly
found in attics devoted to servants On the
drawers that stood near it we perceived an
an old faded silk kerchief, with the needle
still left in the rent half repaired. The
kerchief was covered with dust; probably
it had belonged to the old woman who had
last died in that house, and this might
have been her sleeping-room. l had suf-
ficient curiosity to open the drawers; there
were few odds and ends of female dress,
and two letters tied round with narrow
ribbon of faded yellow. took the liberty
to possess myself of the letters: We found
nothing else in the room worth noticing,
nor did the light reappeari but we distinct
ly heard, as we turned to go, a pattering
football on the floor just before us. We
went through the other attics Tin all FOUR,
the football still preceding us. Nothing to
be seen, nothing but the football heard,
1 had the letters in my hand; just as | was
descending the stairs distinctly felt my
wrist seized and faint, soft effort made
to draw the letters from my clasp. l only
held them the more tightly, and the effort
ceased.
We regained the bedchamber appropria-
ted to myself, and 7 then remarked that
my dog had not followed us when we had
left it. He was thrusting himself close to
the fire and trembling. 1 was impatient to
examine the letters; and while I read them
my servant opened little box in which
he had deposited the weapons had order
him to bring, took them out, placed them
on table close at my bedhead, and then
occupied himself in soothing the dog, who,
however, seemed to heed him very little.
The letters were short; they were dated
the dates exactly thirty-fve years ago.
They were evidently from a lover to his
mistress, or husband to some young wife.
Not only the terms of expression, but a
distinct reference to a former voyage indi-
Gated the writer to have been seafarer.
The spelling and handwriting were those
of a man imperfectly educated; but still the
language itself was forcible. In the ex-
preston Of endearment there was kind of
rough, wild love; but here and there were
dark unintelligible hints at some secret not
of love-some secret that seemed of crime.
awe ought to love each other, was one
of the SENTENCES 7 remember, "for how
every one else would execrate US if all vas
known" Again: "Don't let any one be
in the same room with you at night-you
talk in your sleep" And again: @What's
done can't be undone: and 1 tell you there's
nothing against US, unless the dead could
come to life." Here was interliued, in a
better handwriting "a female's.) "They dom
At the end of the letter latest in date the
same female hand had written these words
"Lost at sea the 4th of June, the same day
as-n
L put down the letters, and began 20
muse over their contents.
Fearing, however, that the train of
thought into which | fell might unsteady