The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1891-05-29

the saddle, though I was hardly able to
for my wet skirts, and stood by
his side. Instantly the stranger was al
mine, and as he r%eappeared my pony
kicked up his heels and dashed away Up
the road.
"Neyer fear; he will take care of him.
self" said the stranger. Follow me-"
He led the way. The darkness had
concealed from me the fact that I was
very near a house. 4 wide door was
flung open. Within | saw a deep hall
foored with oak, at the end Of which a
FIRE reared in a great chimney. 1 was
seated in a huge chair, my garments dry.
ing with curious rapidity. Ny host
stood e me-a handsome man with
his long, curling, golden hair and beard,
and asort Of hunting Aess Of white fan
mel. He smiled on me, but said nothing
until I spoke.
ssThey viii be frightened at home,nl
said.
ST viii not be long said he coldly.
II am SO thankful to yon," | hastened
to add. $50 very thankful
He did not answer in any conventional
manner His reply was this:
sYou have good reason to be. A death
in the cold waters of the torrent is not to
be desired, nor is a violent death of any
sort. Nature seems to forbid it. Thank
heaven for life, little girl"
Sand afterward YOU said L.
He bowed gravely, then went toward
some great piece of furniture, on which
silver seemed to sllimmeri in the freight,
and brought thence a goblet of wine.
Drink" he said.
I drank. ! was warmed, conforted; a
sort of dreamy delight stole over me. I
heard music; | saw figures pass to and
fro. did not quite comprehend what
saw; a delicious slumber came ON the
wings of the music and EMBODIED me.
For awhile I was delightfully."- conscious
that | slept. Then | was obliterated.
Cries and shouts aroused me. strug-
gled to open my eyes. l heard myname,
ssMaisiei Maisiet" shouted from afar. !
heard the clatter of hoofs.
sTherei There she isl There she isf'
in my uncle's voice.
/ saw half O dozen mounted riders ap-
preaching over the fresh, sun lit slope Of
a great hill, and I saw that I sat among
ruins, close to the time worn, weather
bleached wreck Of an old chimney, the
high mantel of which projected over my
head. The roof of the house was gone;
only one wall remained. About me lay
stones and mortar, blackened wood and
all the tokens Of a dwelling destroyed by
fire and abandoned for years to the ele-
ments.
There was no wide hall, no glowing
fire, no sideboard laden with silver, no
host attired in white to offer me beakers
of wine; but | was dry, warm and COM
Portable, Notwithstanding.
My uncle burst into tears, clasped me
to his heart, and in doing so changed his
tune and lectured me for losing myself.
Jackanapes had come home riderless.
Ny aunt thought me dead on the road,
and was III with grief and terror. And
how did I find the ruins? And what q
mercy that I had not gone over the
precipice near BY So they bore me
home. And | kept my own counsel,
said not one word Of my experience un-
til our kindly neignbors had been break
tasted and gone their ways. Then l re-
lated it.
at must have been delirium," | said.
yet it seemed so real
MY dear Maisie," said my uncle, 'in
Scotland we are astonished at nothing.
| have myself heard this story before
from.four people who were rescued in the
same way, and saw the same wrath and
the same restoration Of those ruins that
you describe. My grandfather, q poor
country woman with her babe in her
arms, Mrs. McLynn of the Heights and
my sister Constance have narrated the
same adventure. Everybody knows the
Haunted Ruins, but We have a special
interest in it. Long ago a handsome
young man, by name Alexander Mccoy,
was sole heir to the place, then the hand
soonest residence hereabout, as y may
well imagine. He had all that could
make life happy, but he chose to fall in
love with an ancestress of ours, who
firted with and Tilted him. Her por-
trait hangs on the library wall, a saucy,
dark eyed girl in her teens. He thought
life worthless without the jade, and the
night she married some one else, set fire
to his old house and committed suicide
by jumping over the p~recipice into the
torrent. 1t is said he also appeared to
her at midnight, but that he said, 4
forgive you
1.-THE fancy is that it is the spirit of the
suicide, who thus expiates his sin, and
that when he shall have rescued a GER
tain number Of persons he will be per-
mitted IL rest. The story is always the
same. The luminous object, the figure
with the lantern, the great hall, the de-
lightful fire, the wine, the handsome
host with his white costume and golden
beard, the Weakening among the ruins.
If a horse or a dog be present, the animal
quivers in abject terror as your pony
did. Horses assuredly either see spirits
or think that they do. They have more
supernatural terrors than men or
women"
But, uncle" said l, Il really am
afraid am not quite Scotch enough to
understand all this. The ghost Of a sui
eide is all very natural, but the ghosts
Of a house, Of an oak floor, of q blazing
fire, OF glimmering silver; the ghosts
also of delicious wine, and Of a great
armchair in which | slept delightfully."-
can these things be? Had not better
call it a dreamY'
"You may call it what yen hike, said
nv uncle. Science has yet found no
name for these mysteries, though | be-
DIT --I,e ~LA