Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1892-08-29

raining moonlight, was the figure of
woman, arrayed as for a bridal; but it
fingered only for moment. and then
deliberately moved away.
1t paralyzed me. For an instant felt
inclined to read in it an easy mockery Of
my own egotism.
Not for long, however; feeling akin
to anger soon steadied me, and l said to
Henry:
'This is all an Internal piece of hum
bug, my boy, and must and will be at
the bottom of it."
Weproceeded to the house and into it,
and into the library, where all was silent
as we had quilted it.
l lit the gas. Henry's first act was to
survey his mothers portrait. Then he
made search for the mysterious paper
at is gone," said he, in awed tones.
proposed that we should adjourn till
morning, SO that we could have daylight
upon the subject.
Immediately after breakfast Henry
made for the library, and followed
him.
Just then we heard the piano struck
by expert fingers in an adjoining room,
and rich, low voice sing the notes of
an air which l had never heard before.
felt that l could not listen to it and
stand, so strangely did the melody float
and linger, and flutter and die away.
Meantime Henry was wandering about
the room
"What can have come over that poem,
wonder2' heard him say as he lifted
an ink bottle, book, decanter. and
looked under them all in turn.
"Wait moment for me-" said to
him as / slipped out of the room and
joined the musician.
1t was his sister, of course, and |
Joined her just as she concluded the in
fernal or supernal melody, and know
ing not what better to do requested
her to favor me by repeating it.
"Do you like it?" she quickly asked.
at is wonderful thing" ! returned
MAY ask whose are the verses and
who is the composer"
"The verses are my mothers and the
music is my own"
was stupefied.
"Do you possess a written copy of
themT'
"No; but could not forget them.
feel so sorry sometimes, for have lost
the manuscript in her own handwrit-
ing"
Excuse me for asking, Miss Todd;
but have you copy of those verses in
your own handwriting"
81 have not, Mr.. Winslow. | sing
them from memory"
"This is very extraordinary. GER
tainly read those verses in manuscript
last evening""
"Indeedw she exclaimed, looking at
me curiously. "Most likely you heard
me sing them late, and that may have
cheated you into the idea. played and
sung them last night"
My first proceeding when reached
my bedroom that night was to drink
glass of brandy, my next to unite a
packet Of fine starch powder, with which
had armed myself some hours before.
A little later, when not sound was
heard in the house, you might have seen
me slip off my slippers, take up the pow
der, cautiously invade the hall and SOW
the entire area of it with powder.
When l entered the library shut out
the moonlight, which was playing the
mischief with my fancy, and lit the gas.
then seated myself in the chair which
faced the hanging portrait of Henry's
mother, and l could see my own refec-
ton plainly in its glass front.
Presently detected series of slight
sounds in the distance, as of some one
astir. While my heated imagination
was busily forging fetters for my judg-
ment the library door opened slowly
and the moving image of the portrait,
draped in white veil, made straight for
the curtained window, leaving in its
wake at every step the white impress of
an unmistakable reality.
saw at once, of course, that it was
Miss Todd who stood before me, but
had a planet been at stake could not
have moved or spoken.
She opened the window shutter very
deliberately and the moonlight streamed
into the room, Transforming everything
and imparting to her features and her
figure an indistinct and shadowy beauty,
which was altogether spiritual and un
vestured of decay.
saw her take from fold of her thick
veil a paper, which she read over in the
full light. could see her eyes-that
they wore look as if they saw nothing
nearer than the land of darkness. Her
face was like the face Of one who had
been dead.
was trembling like a leaf when the
figure moved straight toward me, and
holding forth the paper said, in a
strange, far off pleasantness of voice:
sis it not very beautiful? You may
take copy from it if you like, but do
not lose it again"
started to my feet, and to my as
tonishment did not startle the beauti-
full sleeper, who had strobe away as
stately as she had come, leaving in my
hand the simple manuscript, which
held fast, as if 1t might take wing.
When / went down stairs before
breakfast found Henry making puz-
7led scrutiny of mysterious footprints,