Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1892-01-13


there, and trsmps were unknown. Sh
was restless, uneasy, waksful. She coul
not define her sensations, and as was he
custom she sat down and determined tba
she would define and settle them. Was
something in that incredulou5 laugh whic
had disturbed her? No, she did not like ii
but 1t was nothing new to her to bsve th
ghost story doubted. She traced back th
events Of the evening until sGe remembers
steudipg among the party Of girls and boys
busily tearing off the pale husks aud tosf
] ing the golden ears, and sudden memor
which had then for an iasEans rIahsd O.
her.
| That was it. bhe knew COW that eve
since that instant she had not felt quit
right, had been in way oppressed with al
indefnable idea Of something painful. Nov
therefore, she deliberately called up th
memory and, faced it. But deal with It q
she might .it would not down." She hat
often fought and conquered that foe, th
memory of falsehood in these who shoult
have been faithful. But to night her oil
enemy, sorrow, seemed toe strong for her
Oh the memory of those two faces seen
tonight in the light of the torches thai
cleaned on the golden corn which ripened
in her fathers fields years and years ego
| How fierce and bewildering, how loving OF
how toachc ous-who could now say which
-thos3 Dark eyes of the man. young
stropg, FULL OF life. What glory there
was az ard Ia fair young head Of that gir
| with the chestnut tresses. How beautiful
she was, az she stood there, he behind her,
in the wavering yellow light, while the
husking went on furiously. They asked
her for song and she sang. He whisper.
ed in her ear and she sang another and an
other. The sound Of her voice was almost
audible now, 30 distinct was memory. She
was the sweetest singer in all the valley 10
those days, long, long ago. Those very
words! Yes, she sang those very words.
"SiDg me the songs I delighted to hsaT,
Long, long ago, long ago." And in the
est of them all. That last Sunday morning
that she was there she sat in the front pc ",
by her side. For long time afser that peo-
as she sang, "Other refuge have l none,
hangs my trembling soul OF Thee" And
on Monday she was gone. And no search
could f1nd her, and no one ever heard of her
after that till her uncle, the minister, her
only relative, received word from far away
of her death, with many sad particulars.
''But she never made sign or wrote word to
me, her closest friend, close as a sister,
from babyhood. l never, never, never,
have believed thas she was dead. There
seems to me some terrible mSstery about it
all. For where is he, who bad gone away
before and did not come back again."
She walked across the room 10 the win
dow, threw aside the curtain, and looked
out. Il was glorious night, the moon
light pouring over everything. People
sometimes spsak of moonlight as light as
day. 1t never is so. The lighter it is the
more bewilderiug it Ia, especially in tina
country, where the lights aud shades it
produces on the trees and bushes and
stumps and ell other standing otjeees make
them unacceptable, and the shadows il
casts, minglng in the view with all kinds
of queer looking objects, trapsform the fam
iliar world into maze of mysteries She
looked up at the church. Was it-yes it
was-the ghost, the fourth tir.s. No, it
was only those four or five young spruce
trees that some one had planted on the
green, and the black shadows they cast TO-
ward the door. She stared with all her
eyes. Suddenly, with resolution very
characteristic Of her, she hsstensd TO find
cloak, and without waiting for hat went
down stairs and up the hill to toe church.
It WAS 10 ghostly appearance. this which
she hsd three times before seen in doubtful
lights, and now saw before her in clear
moonlight. A Carriage stood before the
door of the church, the horses facing the
other way from her, the driver sittng mo
tionless, With his back to her. No suoh
carriage had ever been seen in this part of
the country. AZ she mounted the steps she
saw the horses. No one knew mere about
fr,7, oho h1
like of which could not be found within
circle of fifty miles. There was a general
understanding in the town that the family
in the farm house at the foot Of the hill
would look after the church if any looking
after were needed. There was no sexton,
and the regular Saturday cleaning up wss
done by an old couple living just beyond.
1t was a motive, not easily to be defined,
perhaps responsibility for the church, per-
haps curiosity, perhaps vague remnant of
the thoughts that had been occupying her
mind, which leo her to open the church
door and go il, There was no vestibnle.
The door opened under gallery. The mid
die aisle led down 70 the front of the pul.
pit. 1t was quito dark under the gallery,
but the raoonlghi streaming through the
upper VIII .ows It the interior and fell
broad on e l3,-sarpeted floor in front of
the pulpit, and on the form of woman
kneeling
She looked only for an instant and was
assured that here was not ghost into
whose private affairs all the world claims
right to look and search, but only human
sinner who had chosen the proper place for
bringing her sorrow to One who could help
her. She was turning TO slip out and shut
the door when she was arrested by sobs
from the kneelirg figure, and an utteranoe,
not singing, not intonIng, but rather wall
of words: "Osher refuge have 1 none, hangs
my trembling soul on Thee; leave, oh leave
me not aloneP'
Down the aisle now she hurried with
swift steps. The kneeling woman, hearing
her, rose and turned. Her hat was thrown
back, revealing head covered with gray
hair, almost white. The other woman was
unbonneted also, and her hair was also
gray. The two met in the full light Of the
moon. Neither spoke; each laid her hands
on the shoulders Of the other, and they
gazed each into the others eyes. They
leaned closer to each other. Their hands
sank and their arms were wound slowly
around each other. For moment all the
present vanished. The gray hairs were
chestnut and golden, the pale cheeks were
rosy, GneSy6drsy ali tue neaVy issuou years
rolled back and fed out of sight and mind
as mists before wind and sun. Two tall
young girls, like so many American up
country girls supremely beautiful both Of
them, with the light of youth in their eyes
and the hopes ofyouth in their hearts, stood
ciasped in each others arms, q joyous
nesting after long separation. Neither
spoke, but each heard or thought she heard
from the other the familiar name Of girl
hood. Ia the tone which entered with ii
into the heart of each was all the unohang.
ed affection of days when youth was sun
shiny and life was jocuud, and emotion
was fresh and free.
Thus for little while. Taen they drew
back, with clasped hands and looked each
into the we'll remembered eyes Of the other,
eyes which alone we're unchanged in the
wan-worn features of the one, in the pale
thin old face of tie other. Then suddenly
the stranger dropped her hands. and before
the other in her surprise could speak, rush
cd to the door, and was gone.
sHave you seen the ghost lately?n the