Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-08-29


| first refused, but on consideration l de
cided to 20 out and have my hair cut ant
then return to see if the young man wa
there.
When I came back some twenty min
utes later the small Office was full of peo
pie. AS I entered, something in the lool
of the place and the attitude of the figure!
struck me as familiar. But / dismissed
the idea at once. The shopman came tt
meet me.
"The young man is here" he said, anc
he turned with a wave of his hand to
figure behind him. The figure advanced
It was the figure of good-looking boy
rather than Of man, slight and fair, anc
with the head little dropping. AS the
boy raised his. face to look at me started
back. Feature for feature, as clear as il
could be, it was the face had seen in my
dream!
I don't know what followed; I dom
know whether my conduct appeared very
strange. I don't know what the boy saio
to me, or what said to him. I have only
vague idea that generally assented tc
everything, And 1 know that when 1 wen,
home to Tullybardane, Sydney Lock went
with me as my man.
Tullybardane is desolate place. 1t lie:
III udETOW SOlBe WhiCA uuouoWh OH 81
to the shore. The hills slope up on either
hand, and end in tumbled rocks or caverns
where the sea foam breaks and the sea
waves sing. The old grangeis rambling
house. From its windows you can look
over the beach, and only the falling gar.
dens separate you from it. On the right
hand is the library, which faces down 9
long avenue of frs to the sea, and beyond
the library stretches the deserted part OF
the house, which, for fve-and-thirty years,
I have been meaning to repair. The IL
brary was rather gloomy room, commu-
eating only by long passage with the
other inhabited parts of the house. In
deed, the whole house was rather lonely.
For myself [ never minded that, but l
fancy it struck my new servant as bit
solitary and weird.
Now, I must tell you about the doings
of this young fellow. A day or two after
my return, both my mother and began to
notice something strange about him. 1t
was not that did not like him, for I took
a strong fancy to him at once, and here,
fve.and-thirty years after, he lives to this
day, less, think of servant to US than a
faithful and trusted friend. But certainly
his behavior was odd, and the first thing
we observed. was this.
One afternoon I was sitting with my
mother in the drawing room. My mother
had ordered tea. Personally, am afraid
of those unwholesome drinks, and never
have taken to that surreptitious fashion of
working in an extra meal in the afternoon.
But I was sitting with her and talking
very disconsolately, for I felt thoroughly
depressed. Presently, Sydney came in
with the cups of tea on tray-a detesta-
BILE plan of taking tea, if you must take it,
but one to which my dear mother was par
tial. He handed the tray to my mother,
and he handed it to me. Then, to our sur
prise, he walked straight across the room
to big armchair that stood near the win
dow, and handed the tray to the empty
chair. But the armchair or its invisible
occupant, refused it, apparently, and the
man withdrew.
am endowed with large fund of Scot
tish humor, and I burst out laughing.
MY mother was equally perpleXed.
"He must have thought there was some
one sitting there" she said. "He must be
very shortsighted. poor boy. It's very
strange"
''He must be as blind as bat," an
swered, ''or else has been playing prac-
tical joke on us. never saw anything so
absurd in my life"
But in the next few days was destined
to see stranger things. asked Sydney If
he was shortsighted, but he denied the
charge with warmth. And yet the more l
watched him the more obvious was it that
he was always seeing invisible people.
Once, as I chanced to see him coming
down stairs, distinctly saw him draw
back, pressing himself against the wall, as
if to allow an invisible person to pass.
Another time l saw him walk to the front
door, open it, and hold it, as if for an in
visible visitor to pass out. After that l
could stand it no longer. am the worst
possible hand at fault finding with SER
wants, but I was determined to have an
explanation of this. So that afternoon l
spoke to Sydney.
Sydney" 1 said, bluntly, 'are you
given to seeing ghosts ?'
II, sir!" he answered, with smile OF
astonishment. "No, sir, I never saw a
ghost in my life."
"Then, what do you mean," broke out,
"by behaving in the way you have been
doing?"
The boy stared. Evidently he thought
me off my head. l determined to speak
more gently.
"Then," said, "who was that person
ing?" I knew I had him there, for was
sure nobody had called.
80, you mean the old gentleman in
gray, sir? He left no name. 1 thought,
sir, he seemed to be at home in the house
I had SEEN him here so often, sr?"
Now it was my turn to stare. / was
dumbfounded. / literally stammered for
want of words. Then l showed what
have always thought was remarkable pres
ence of mind. turned around and walk
ed into the dining room, telling the boy to
follow. There [ poured out a glass OF
whisky and gave it to him.
"Drink that" I said, land you had bet
ter sit down."
Obviously he thought me as eccentric as
I thought him. But he merely said,
"Thank you, sir" and drank the whisky.
"Do you feel quite we'll ?" asked frig-
idly.
"Quite we'll, thank you, sir"
"Are you subject to delusions or hallu-
cinations?"
"No, sir; never, SIR" he answered
promptly, with lurking smile which he
vainly tried to conceal.
That smile annoyed me. l broke out
again:
"Then, what on earth do you mean,'
I cried, "by telling me this nonsense about
gentleman in gray?"
Sydney rose. There was some dignity
in his manner. Hespoke respectfully, but
in an injured tone:
II beg your pardon, sir, but only told
you about the gentleman who called, and
1 thought, sir, you might have seen him
for he passed by you, and I fancied he
nodded to you as he passed."
Really, things had come to pretty pass
Here was my own servant accusing me o
seeing invisible phantoms which only ex
listed in his own disordered brain
But there, will not repeat all the con
versation that followed. 1 must say Sgd
ney kept his temper wonderfully, for