The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-10-29

alpine avaIancnes. Cue listened TO near
them crash upon the floor of some chamber
deeper down. Then again the strangely
beautiful darling of our lanterns rays, as
you have seen the MONDAY sunbeams dart
down and branch in trembling movement
into the heart of turgid pond
We walked erect. We were frequently
in chambers of considerable size, as was
easy to perceive by the touch of the hand
on the rocky corridor, then nothing TO
touch, then the narrow passageway once
more In not one of these gigantic cham
bers did the darkness yield to our light
sufficient to show dimensions. It was in
deed darkness eternal. Since the sun was
created here was space where he had never
shone Yet the air wRs cool, and grew
sweeter, even exhilarating, as we proceed
ed. Preceededl A thousand times had
resolved TO return, but old Pete seemed
deaf. No word of entreaty penetrated his
ears. Even the chink of silver dollars
would not rouse him TO any response. He
plodded on, on. We thought of the aged
guides feeble heart beat with its 81 years
of throbbing. What if he were to drop
and join the ghostly shades that mayhap
haunted the place?
We were about agreed on forcibly halt
ing him when, in an eyes twinkle, the de-
cayed old man began 10 dance. AS he
sprung up and down and waved his hands
a change came over him. He wore an
aspect of boy, and light. soft, phos-
phorescent, beautiful, broke over him,
over the lordly chamber where we stood
"See yonderl''. We both spoke it.
The wonderful glory shone from per-
son.
1.-THE woman in the easel" exclaimed my
friend.
capt Kidd's BRIDE" replied, and we
both laughed, though why we laughed /
do not know; surely was never more
deeply terrorized in my life. Probably it
was not very joyous laugh. As for our
youthful-aged guide, he was now fairly on
his knees before the apparition.
1t was the figure of a pleasing woman,
English, l should say, though my friend
says Dutch to this day. think she spoke
English; my friend says Dutch. think
she was dressed in the old English garb Of
two centuries ago. Ny friend, better vers-
ed in these things than |, says she wore
the picturesque costume of the Neither
lands. But then her robe was so shining
white that no eye could linger on it long.
Behind the lady stood the precious pots
of treasure trove. Spells from the Spanish
main and pelf from the Roman sea- Blood
money! A pirates wealth. Toevery glitter
ing piece dying sailors hands had chung
The groans of deck loads of wounded men
seemed still to lurk amid the messy piles
The rude kettles ran over with the stuff.
Handouts lay on the floor about the prong
like legs of each old cauldron.
l said she spoke. If | understood her
Alright this is what she said:
'Returnl This wealth is in trust. Know
We the Van Houghtapootings. of great New
York;"
Ny friend managed to groan out that be
was acquainted with this very old family
in the persons of some of its latest repre-
sentatives.
'This wealth is their supply. Once each
year, at Christmas, take them pot Of
this silver and gold. That's how they live,
for they toll not, neither do they spin"
Iawoke. We were lying quietly mid
stream of Newburg bay the yacht softly
Graded in a midsummer's twilight.
THAT fish dinnerP' exclaimed to my
friend. at made me dream"
Exactly my case" he replied.
On comparing our dreams they were sin
gularly alike, in :act quite identical A
dream, | confess. Nevertheless there is
some such legend floating amid the purple
shadows of the Highlands on the Hudson.
Emily ]. Haynes in Boston Globe.