Evening journal., 1891-07-09

and towels and pillow cases, once white,
but now powdered gray, as though a snow
Of that hue had fallen on them.
She lowered her lantern and beheld
across the sill stain OF blood, and within,
on the floor, a deeper one; but she did not
shudder; indeed, a smile crossed her face
a pitiful, tender smile
Poor little Martha Penny" she said,
and without quiver OF cry she entered
in and shut the door behind her A small,
round window, high mp in the wall, let in
little CLEAN OF moonlight, "a broken pane
admitted a breath Of air; but amid the
woolen blankets at the further end moths
burrowed. She could see their tracks and
a curious smell that fingers in moth eaten
wool made the air heavy. Already her
lanterns light attracted insects that came
through the broken pane above to fiutter
about it, She closed the slide, and now
looked like a very ghost herself-all white
in the faint moonlight.
She listened intently. Soon she heard
the sound Of door closed carefully, feet
upon the STAIRS feet in the passage without
the door. Some one began to pace slowly
up and down.
Martha" said a voice; ''Marthal' Then
there was silence. Then again, Martial
MarthaF'
It was mans voice which spoke. Now
it went on.
"They say your ghost haunts this house.
have come here so often and heard moth
ing, seen nothing Martha, give me some
sign that you hear me-"
The widow lifted her hand and tapped
lightly on the door.
There was little cry without, then MAR
tina" came again, and now the widow spoke:
You call Martha. She is here. For once,
and once only, she is permitted to listen to
you. Who are youSn
'The man who loved you-Jack Parker,n
replied the voice. May | see you, Martha
angel Martha-may see your"
If you swear not to move--not to try to
touch me, " said the widow.
Il swear replied Jack, in a choking
voice.
The door Of the linen closet moved
slowly. The man on his knees in the pas
sage without saw white draped figure
with long braids of hair hanging below its
waist.
my Godr he painted. DO see you
again, MarthaY"
Il am Martha Penny" replied the widow,
in soft whisper. "Why have you called
mePn
TO ask your forgiveness" the man re-
piled. Without it | am lost ia this world
and the next. Speak to me, sweet angel;
tell me that you know that did not kill
you with intent to do so Let the world
think what it will Tell me you know it
was not so-that you knew it even when
you fell there, where you stand now-tell
me so and save my soull'
when fell,' the faint voice whispered,
tA4Fflfg fn 4 Al
you gave me believed that you had shot
me purposely In this belief | lost nv
consciousness. Yes, when seemed to die
l thought you had killed me-"
but now?n asked Jack.
"Oh, unhappy man. replied the spirit,
might after night / have heard your
moans night after night have heard you
swear by all that is holy to your innocence.
do not doubt you now BE at peace. We
shall meet again. and forgive youn
With cry the man flung himself upon
the floor, and great sobs burst from his
bosom.
AT last" he gasped, "at last. Oh, dear
angel, at last. Oh, God be praisedp'
The white figure came nearer to the
fallen man; it bent over him.
Jack il said in more earthly tones, Il
am so glad that YOU did not mean to kill
me- Poor boy, you were always handling
that revolver recklessly, but you know you
threatened me. / loved you, Jack, but /
could not marry you your mother was so
proud, and yet she had been so good TO me,
a poor little orphan. So swore to myself
that | would so away and never see you
again unless she called me back. That is
why refused you, Jack; that is why"
Thrilling and chilling, Jack lifted him
self on his elbow and stared into the veiled
face.
Certainly am really mad at last, (" he
said.
But the voice, now even more distinct
and full Of earthly tenderness, went on:
mo, Jack, no, you are quite sane, quite
sane. Remember how the body OF poor
Martha Penny was spirited away Have
you never thought that perhaps she was
not dead, though that stupid old doctor, in
| his dotage, declared her so? Jack, poor
Jack, she was alive But when she came
to herself the horror she felt that you
should murder her was very great. And
/ yet she did not wish 70 give any evidence
| that would send you to prison. She re
| solved to fly. The old negress helped her
away, and lied to cover the act. Jack,
am no ghost, | am alive, | am flesh and
blood. Touch my hand, give you leave
Poor Jack, poor fellow, how you have suf
j fered all these years.
As they suffer in Hades," he said, and
humbly put his lips to the hem of her robe
II worked hard for awhile then gooC
| old man married me- she went on. III,
was kind as a father, and | have littl,
boy. am widow now, and / came bach
to see the old place. | live in the wing thai
the agent had to let, and night after night
! heard you through the partition, weeping
and praying forgiveness Of my ghost, swear
ing you did not mean TO harm me AnC
meant that you should only think my
| ghost forgave you. But II could mo-
help telling the truth, dear Jack, once
saw you SO near me and 50 broken hearted.
Then indeed Jack grew bolder and dareC
to touch her hands and to lift them to hi
| lips. He was thankful and humble, a
though heaven had vouchsafed him Wis
! ion Of angels, and he left her at her door a
he might have parted from one. But afte
all she was a living woman, he a man Wit
loved her, and ere the autumn leaves fel
they were wed.-Mary Kyle Dallas in Fire
side Companion.
A Courteous Man.
4 A. q. l.1. T.