New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1893-12-24
HAUNTED ASHCHURCH.


blacksmith and that was fully half mile away
=. could not be said that the little fabric
nossessed anything of architectural beauty or
interest; plain obong building. with square,
thick set SQUAT tower. II had no chancel
It was hard upon fifty years since regular
services had been discontinued at Ashchurch
owing TO the building and endowment of a hand
some new church. near the centre of population
and better adapted to the requirements of the
parish.
For about the first half Of these fifty years the
cracked old bell of Ashchurch still rang OCCASION
alIy for the funerals of old residents or the
narsh. for the churchyard not declared
closed when the Sunday services ceased
Rut the time came when the authorities de-
c,ded that henceforth all burias must be in the
new cemetery.
I'D to that time the aged church had been
kept in some sort of repair, and had at any rate
been water-tight. But from that time the
efforts made to keep it so had been but spasmodic
and inadequate, and year by year IL pecaiiie
more and more dilapidated.
The ivy now grew in unchecked luxuriance.
not only over the walls but over the roof. AS
for the tower. it became perfect bush of creep
ers under which the form Of the masonry was
concealed. like that of an Esquimau in his furs
arms. and embraced within its unwieldy and IT.
regular width many of the moss-grown grave
stones Grass grew coarse and rank on the
churchyard paths Here and there a head
stone or mound Of green turf showed signs OF
care and loving tendance; but, as a rule. the
graves like the church itself. looked neglected
and desolate and some were hidden by FOX
glove and nettes.
A stranger accidentally detained in the parish
by the effects Of fall from his horse. being
convalescent had stroed aimlessy down the
narrow winding lane. which led to the church.
and coming suddenly upon 1t, had been struck
by its forlorn appearance.
Leaning over the rusty hinged churchyard gate
he deserted a woman and sturdy girl hurrlediy
wedding one Of the smallest Of the green mounds
OF its rank growth of dockleaves. His atten-
ton could not but be arrested by the headlong
haste which characterized their performance OF
a task over which love usually fingers long
AS he was DESTROYS of learning something OF
the history Of the church and Of the causes Of
its present state of decay he. with some diff
Guilty opened the crazy old gate and went to-
ward them But though he succeeded, by dint OF
questioning in ecitng most Of the facts. OF
which the reader is already in possession, he
found the woman far from communicative and
evidently anxious to be gone. Once only did her
natural love of gossip prompt her to impart UNI
solicited information.
"volks hereabout du say" she began. ''ez how
she had a hand But here. as though
frightened at her impulse, she broke of
abruptly and. turning short round. ambled off
at the top of her speed. closely followed by the
girl. without shutting the gate behind her. The
stranger heard the patter Of their feet hurrying
down the lane. and smiled the superior smile
of an educated man.
''Some superstitious fancy" he said to himself
Choosing fiat tombstone. he lay down al full
length thereon, and gave himself up the full
enjoyment of the lovely summers evening. The
pure physical pleasure Of IL, to who had
so lately been an invalid, was most grateful and
soothing.
The intense quiet Of the place, amid the sound
sleepers beneath the sod its touching air of de-
serton and it's uncared-for aspect. the history Of
the abandonment of the church-all appealed
strongly to his Imagination. and he lost
in dreamland Of musings. At length. warned
by cold gust of evening air that he was hardly
strong enough yet to risk being out in the dew.
he rose TO go.
He was amazed to find that he must have
been there over two hours II was getting dusk
and his watch told him that it was half past
8. He turned to take one last look at the lorn
church. and as he did so, caught a glimpse Of
1.-THE white drapery Of a wOman's skirts in the
act Of disappearing round the northwest corner
of the tower.
He had a strong distaste for anything like
intrusion on the privacy of one who was posi-
bly, visiting the grave Of relation. and he ac-
cordngly left the churchyard without again
turning his head.
But he was conscious that It cost him a strong
effort to do So owing to a most extraordinary
craving which he could not for the life OF him
explain, to lock round the corner Of the tower.
On his emerging from the lane, he saw the cheer
full glow Of the blacksmiths forge some way
ahead. Salter had done some work for him. and
1t might, he thought, be as well to ask the loan
OF topcoat for the rest Of his way home. In
height and build they were much alike. So
ne turned in at the half-door of the forge.
my sakes" said the blacksmith heartily why
it's Muster Cortram. Glad TO you, sir. out
an ABBOTT though tits maist too sharp a even
ing. and you not quite set oop. as we may say
"True. salter. and 80 I've come to ask you to
lend me an overccat"
Right you are. sir. and welcome too; but set
We down and have warm first"
And the blacksmith, mindful Of the duties Of
hospitality, drew his shirt sleeves down over
his mighty arms. and proceeded to light pipe
by way of company to Mr.. Cortram's cigar.
"Tis a quaint spot this close by YOU" said
over to Salter.
Meaning quered the smith. as he held
the match over the bowl.
"Ashchurch."
Salter let the match drop.
What! Have you been there at this hour o
night?"
''Hour OF night indeed. Why. It is barely dusk
and what Is more some lady or other is probably
there still"
This time the blacksmith dropped his pipe
and II was smashed against the anvil in the
fall. The man was pale as death.
What ails you, Salter. my man? Here. have
q cigar"
Salter took notice Of the prOfered cigar
case With an effort he drew himself up to his
full height and in the deep shadows and strong
lights of the forge he looked like prophet Of
the olden time as he said. most earnestly and
solcmnly:
Mr.. Cortram cir. go we home do ye now.
and pray tonight when we seq yer prayers, as
in coorse We do. that no harm may come this
night to you any av yer famuly."
Mr.. Cortram respected the mans emotion.
though quite at a loss TO guess Its cause. and.
without bothering him further about the over
coat walked briskly home.
Next day ne sailed forth usual In the
evening for stroll. but had not gone far when
ne met mounted messenger from the tee
graph Office OF the neighboring town. who rec
ognzed him and handed him a telegram. 1t
announced the sudden death OF an uncle the
previous evening at half-past o'clock The
H.