Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-11-15
ABT1ann5REergIe3dI. j. . &ss'Sd6HtltIS S!TH8As sEsgo ESsgoAs T9PRfR7 ..==-;=s.r BY AMERICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION, rso:
CHAPTER I.

StTalnlHs eNtS NaillN suusHt lo IhSASa the gloom of the night the soughing of the wind through the great pines fore told the oncoming storm.
 4 feeling of intense depression seized me. Why had come? At this moment wished myself miles away. What q senseless quest this upon which l had entered! Suppose were to find my old friend; would she be glad to see me? Was it not an unpardonable intrusion to arrive thus, unheralded, at dead of night? Was there, in fact, any greater imbecile on earth than l. driving here, near mid night, over miles of rough country road in search of Portia Vane?
 Ten years had gone by since Portia and I were graduated from the Canadian convent in which we had spent four happy, uneventful years. During that time we were as inseparable as any schoolgirl friends. had idoliZed the beau tiful, amiable southern girl, whose tales of plantation life in all its tropical color and incidence had completely captivated me. Born and brought up in a rigid northern atmosphere, the glimpses got through her conversation and letters of Portia's home life werevisions of fairy land Portia was stately, clever and talented. was poor, inferior and plain. But the loveliest and wealthiest girl in the convent singled me out as her friend, and my gratitude and devotion to her were unbounded.
 After our graduation we correspouded for two years. during which time l was employed ill teaching and laying by money, for intended some day to visit Portia ill her southern home. She wrote me of her approaching marriage, urging me to be one of her bridesmaids, which pleasure was forced to forego.
 Ireceived few letters after her mar riage. in which she spoke in glowing terms of her new life. Then heard no more. We drifted apart. as all school friends invariably do.
 It is always the unexpected which happens Whoever would have fancied that from his numerous train of rela- tives my uncle, John Mason, would have selected me. poor Prudence Mason, as the heir to his great property? When had finished gasping over the announce ment his lawyers made me, my first thought was of Portia. and that would seek her at once to tell her the good news. Perhaps we might travel togeth- CT: perhaps she was poor and needed as- sistance. Possibly there were children for whom 1 might do something. Re member an obscure plain teacher has few friends, and never in all my desolate, cOlOrleSS existence had 1 so clung to any human being as to POrtia Nane. 1 thought of her now as the carriage went joltinE through this wilderness over the uneven roads, occasionally banging against q stump or the root of a tree. 1 saw her sweet face and heard again her gentle voice and remembered all her gracious and kindly acts.
 Will We soon be there:" I asked my driver
 He was a typical specimen of the southern cracker" and i'll the monoto- nous, mellow accents borrowed from the negroes drawled out:
 Putty soon. ma'am. It ah bout tn mile. Soon's we uns git by Dead Mans swamp ye kin see the lights down yon- dah'
 Dead Mans swamp repeated in voluntarily. What horrible-a dis nal name"
 Dismal place, tu," he replied, ''thah hain't white noh niggah dah go in thah at night. All sorts O Curus an awful goin's on thah."
 What do you mean:" asked.
 ''Waal,' he droned, T hardly know myself what du mean. Thet's it. You know. ma'am. thet it's the mystery thet's what skahs Now, if ye knows what's happened, it takes half the scah off. but if thahs only stories an nobody willin to find out it's kind O awful l-Sy Yo1t I,,S h0h lights seen in thah at midnight and ter rible sounds heard An some says, all they don't hahdly like to whispah the word, thet thah's whah the voodoos meet.
 The voodoos:" l said. Yes, niggahs, ye know, what do un- l earthly things-eat dead babies, tah cut folks hearts an play with sahpents"
 Oh. don't tell me anything more.' I exclaimed. I've read of them" 1 "Waal, ma'am, it is somethin disgustin 1 an awful to think on. I'm allus powah- ful glad when I'm past the place"
 \ few rods farther the great forest 1 broke away q little. and ill the pallid light could discern under the scattered trees stretches of morass, black. slimy and filthy. From the gaunt trees the long gray moss hung like lfeless figures dangling and dipping in the sullen sur face of the stagnant pools. The swamp seemed interminable, reaching away in endless gloom under the low hanging 1 branches. The moon came out from the clouds for one moment and sent a cheerless light down on the forbidding scene, but quickly withdrew, as if alarmed at what she saw.
 It was a frightful place-weird and uncanny. The wind shuddered through the trees, and ghostly shadows seemed tc turk beneath their swaying, writhing branches.
 What a horrible place." 1 exclaimed
 Horrible? Yes, this hyah is Dead Mans swamp" whispered my compan ion.
 Though was oppressed by these hid eous surroundings, vet was at the samt time unaccountablv fascinated. and lean ing out looked as far into the blacl vistas as the waning moonlight would permit. It seemed to my excited fancy that the trees beckoned me, and that tn, moaning wind muttered that this awfu place held secrets for me. I was con scious of a strange mental exaltation- almost clairvoyancy. Away, away il the depths of that melancholy swami was there not something calling me?
 Hark! What was that?
 With frantic grasp clutched m. , companions arm as out of the night ont of this dismal swamp, trembled ant shrilled an awful cry like the vail of tn judgment day.
 It reverberated through those blacl mysterious avenues and was caught u by hundred mocking echoes, then slowl, died away.
 ..AIv Gndl what is if" cried