The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1889-09-27

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banished, for he realized that Carol had
done this act from principle, and would
not very likely let her judgement be in
huenced by the new state of affairs, even
though her heart was.
A short time later, and he drew up In
front Of the old mill.
1t was as picturesque q spot as one
could well imagine, for the great trees
overhung the ruined mill, and the noisy
fall Of the water over the dam could be
plainly heard.
AS seen in daylight, there was some
thing sad and lonely in tho spectacle of
the ruined MILL Where wore It's former
occupants? Once busy life had dwclt
thore; the song of the miller was heard
from morning until night. Gone now
were the prattling tongues that had made
the rafters ring with their cheerful, child
ish noise.
The poor wheel that had been wont to
turn all day long still remained, but a
mere skeleton Of its former self, most of
the wood work having rotted away. Rank
weeds clung to the iron bands where
they had caught during a freshet. and
waved to and fro with every passing
breeze.
II the old mill looked strangely sad in
the day time, how weird and ghastly its
appearance by starlight
Roger had evidently been here before
and made all arrangements, for, evon as
he leaped to the ground and was in the
act Of lifting Carol down, the door opened,
and woman appeared in view holding a
sputtering candle.
The shadow Of terrible crime hung
over the Old mill, and most people In the
neighborhood avoided 1t, especially after
nightfall. All the money In the vaults Of
the treasury could hardly have tempted
one OF the negroes on Richmond Terrace
or Darrell Chace to have willingly gone to
the haunted mill when darkness had de-
scended upon the land.
What this crime was does not enter
into our story, so far as particulars are
concerned. but let it suffice to say that
the mad miller murdered his wife In
fit of jealousy, and also the man who was
working for him, whom he suspected
whether rightly or not was never fully
proven-of being his wlfe's lover, ending
the terrible tragedy In fitting manner
by taking his own life.
The children Of this unhappy couple
had been taken In charge by relatives,
who tried to rent out the mill. but the
effort was in vain, for all united in declar-
Ing 1t was haunted, and that In the mid
die Of the night they would be aroused by
terrible din, which invariably resolved
itself into one set conclusion.
They declared they heard the mad
miller chasing his wife and hired man from
room to room, cursing and reviling, while
they prayed and pleaded their innocence
with him. Then would come the sound
of heavy blows with knife. one for each
person, heavy falls, terrible groans, and
silence would ensue.
There were some who shook their heads
wisely, and made sage remarks about
vivid imaginations, wind blowing through
strange knot-holes, and the like, but it
might have been noticed, singularly
enough, that these self-same wiseacres
were the very last ones to ever volunteer
to spend night In the old mill.
For some years back 1t had been inhab-
tied by woman who called herself Mrs.
Randall, and it was assumed that she was
widow. She was quiet and troubled no
one, and always seemed to havo enough
money to keep herself in existence and
aid those"poorer than herself.
Sometimes she did little sowing, and
very often nursed the sick, but for this
latter service she would take no pay.
Tho negro doctor Of the nelghborhood,
a black upon Rlchmond's plantation, tried
to make out that she was witch, because
hor simple decoctions Of common herbs
proved efficacious when his weird incan.
tations proved OF no avail, but he was
not believed. The blacks looked upon
her with reverence, while the gentry at
least bore her no ill-will, though they
knew from her looks she was woman
with history.
Carol was warmly received.
Somehow the young girl had thought
Mrs. Randall's eyes had rested upon her
in most singular manner, and yet to
her knowledge she had never seen the
lady before.
That she was a lady despite her pool
surroundings was plain to be seen. Her
ndiI ldu Ouco Deeu DllCks DuL was now
silver gray, and brushed smoothly away
from a forehead that was white as snow,
though furrowed by the cares of years.
The room in which Roger and Carol
were left was scantily furnished, and
what articles there were showed signs OF
age, having, no doubt, once been the
property Of the mad miller.
Upon one wall was picture, in q small
frame, with its face turned away. Sew.
eral other pictures there were, but none
had been treated In this way.
Curiosity in itself is strong enough In
any ono. but 1t was some greater power
than this that urged Carol to walk over
to the picture that hung with its face to
the wall. 1t seemed as though some In.
visible power had hold OF her hand and
was leading her on.
She turned the little picture, gave one
glance, and thcn, with cry of dismay
and astonishment, let 1t fall back in its
old position.
She had gazed upon tho face Of her
fatherl
CHAPTER XIII.