Smyrna times., 1888-04-04
THE WHITE LADY.

One night 1 sat alone, thinking and
thinking, and wondering if there was any
truth in the story of the White Lady of
the Hall, and whether, if there were, Ihad
the courage to meet her, for the story
went that any one who dared to meet her
and to speak to her should have what
they asked, though if you met her and
were afraid to speak, some great harm
would come-sOmething worse than death
itself-madness, or the palsy, or blind
ness, mayhap.
Long ago, before any living mans
grandsire was born, they said the White
Lady was a fair woman and no wrath. a
fair, meek woman, whom a king loved,
and the hall was the place where she
dwelt; and she wore jewels and fine gar
ments, and servants waited on her, and
the king came often to the feast and to
praise and kiss her
And sometimes he would send a mes
sage before he came, and bid her meet
him under a great oak that stood at the
hall gate, and she always did as he bade
her.
And one night a message was sent, and
she went, as was her wont, to meet him:
but as she stood under the tree watching
for him, one who had beguiled her to the
spot with false message smote her with
an arrow, and she dropped down dead.
A jealous woman had hired the mur-
derer it was said, and some say the Jealous
woman became queen.
The lady died, and the Hall was left
alone and moldered into ruin: but ever
since, once in q year, on the anniversary
of the day on which she went for the last
time to meet the king, the lady, all in
white walks, so the legend says, thrice
around the tree.
And the night is called in our neighbor-
hood ''White Lady's Night" for no other
reason; and Thomas Martingale, going
home late from the Crown and Scepter,
once saw the lady under the tree-so he
said-at least the old folks told the story
to the young, and we were bound to be-
lieve it.
Now, upon White Lady's Night. I.
Mark Hardley, sat alone, wondering and
wanted something that l knew not
how to win.
1t was not gold, nor was it silver. and
house and lands and the wherewithal to
live l hoped to win with my own strong
arms, but what l lOnged for seemed to
fit beyond my reach
Try as I might, l never could make
sure of it.
1t was a wOman's heart.
l loved Alice Hunter as no man ever
loved woman before, but she smiled one
day and frowned the next; and, then, too,
she was above me, and despised me, very
likely
How could I tell her what ! felt that
she might make n mock of me? Yet if
never told her all my chance was gone
This White Lady's Night, thinking of
the story my grandmother often told me
beside the winter fire, l went mad, as
lovers do sometimes, and l said to myself:
81 will go tonight to the old oak, and if
the White Lady walks l will seize her
robe and ask her to give me the wish of
my heart-if die for it.
One must do something Those that
are in love ask old hags to tell their for
tunes, and take the settling of leaves in
a teacup for prophecy. l knew one who
said to himself; ''If the bird flying youder
lights on the apple boughs my love will
be happy; but if it flies to the hedge all
will 60 wrOng;" and when the little thing
folded its wings among the apple blossoms
was glad all night.
Oh, yes, lovers are mad at times /
must have been, then, when l opened nv
window and dropped from it on the grass,
and took my way toward the ruined hall
and the old oak on White Lady's Night,
to ask my happiness of the White Lady;
but did it.
Oh, how well 1 remember. The moon
shone overhead, round and white, and all
was still. The lights went out in the cot
tages in the hollow, and the trees stood
black against the bright sky
And down upon the night fell, one after
the other, twelve strokes from the church
clock; and l knew that it was midnight,
and the hour for the White Lady to walk,
and made all the speed could, lest she
should come and go and / none the better
for her.
At last l stood before the Hall, and saw
the tree with its great branches spreading
far and wide-a tree that was more than
200 years old, they said, and strangely and
solemnly through the empty windows of
the hall the moon was shining; and l
looked and held my breath, for there,
under the great tree, stood indeed q wO-
mans figure.
1t wore some light garments, and was
wrapped and hidden so that 1 could not
see the face, and it moved a little as l
came near, and, looking over its shoulder,
began to glide away; and 1 knew that if
gOssips told the truth, l must either win
or lose.
l sprang forward, grasped the flowing
robe and held it close; and I whispered
for indeed my heart beat so fast that my
voice was gone:
''My lady, my ladyl have come here
tonight to ask you for gift, and 1 fear
| you not; for why should fear? And you
| who died for love will be kind to a lover.
| May ask? viii you listen, lady?''
Then a voice, soft as a young birds
twitter, answered:
''Speakr'
just Speak" nothing more, nor did
the face turn toward me.
81 love one dearly, lady," said, "and
what l ask is her heart Can you help
me?'
Again the whisper came, fainter even
than before.
''Ier name? How can I tell unless ]
know her name?''
''It is Alice Hunter" 1 said; and OH
she is more dear to me than my soul"
There was pause.
Then faint and slow the answer came:
BE bold; ask her for her heart and she
will give it to you, on the word of the
White Lady. Now go, leave rae.
dropped the white robe.
The lady glided away, and went home
as one plight walk home in a dream.
And She next day almost believed that
had dreamed; almost, but not quite.
For had grown bolder, and that day