The Portland daily press., 1894-08-13

| ~ O1iO gu oAAS AAOou VI ullCiAA 49,
dwelt purpose ever growing in plan ana
desire. Miss Fitzhugh was at once the
beauty and life of every gathering.
With all her love of life and pleasure
she was singularly free from boldness or
unreserve. Of fine family, with much
pride of the highest type, a lady to the tips
of her dainty feet, she yet possessed
longing for adventure, delight in some
thing outside the quiet propriety of her life.
Perhaps some old piratical ancestor had
bequeathed his rebellion to her in mild
degree. Whatever it was, before the party
reached their homes that lonely evening
Patty Fitzhugh had made up her mind to
spend that night in the haunted house.
Her health and nerves were robust, she
argued. She had from a child been as free
from fear as her brave brothers, and why
should this bit Of adventure in this tame,
uneventful life be denied her?
She hated not being open with her par
ents-she was singularly free from Sc
crecy and deceit-but she quieted her con-
science as she babe them good night. She
had often saddled and bridled her own
spirited yet gentle mare, and after the
house was still she crept down to the sta
bles in her riding habit, feeling like
thief in the night Horse and rider stole
out the driveway every football of Zenoni
sounding loud and ringing in the still
ness. Miles and miles the two traversed,
coming at last to the woods. For the first
time Miss Patty thought of tramps. She
did not fear spectral foe, but she did not
fancy an encounter alone and unprotected
with lawless men. Still she went on,
grasping her dagger, prepared to use it If
necessary. The house stood before her like
weird specter. She rode her horse into
the front room. 1t was safer, and there
Zenoni was company. So the two-beast
and maid-kept their lonely vigil Hours
passed. The wind moaned and uttered
strange sounds. Sometimes it seemed as
though footsteps were nearing the house
Then the stiffness grew insupportable.
Miss Fitzhugh Strengthened her stiff,
cramped limbs and began to call herself
names for her uncanny, uneyentfuA expe-
dition. She was very tired. How could
she keep awake?
Then came something that made every
sense alert Sobbing mournful cries came
from the west There was strange sense
of the supernatural in the atmosphere
Miss Fitzhugh sat erect and full of antici-
patton. A girls form in soft white wool
stood before her.
A sweet, sad voice said clearly and dis
tinctly: my time is short. You alone
have braved the danger You alone have
cared to hear the truth. I did grow to
hate my husband. was SO desperate. I
SO craved the air, the beautiful outer
world-my freedom. A stranger came one
day to know the truth of the rrmors afoat
in the county. He bribed old Dinah to
let him see me- He came under my win
dow, and begged him to take me away,
to free me from my prison. I would have
done the same if he had been old and hid
eous. I never loved him. I only looked
upon him as my deliverer from my terri
BILE life. He planned my escape. made
no promises. I never intended to marry
him. He never limited at love, only COM
passion. He appeared at the time appoint
ed. My husband came upon u.s. He shot
at the man, but sprang between them
and received the ball in my heart. I do
love my husband. know now that his
brain was diseased. He has never known
a moments peace since. Poor, unhappy
man! Oh, girl, as you value your own
happiness, never, never marry jealous
man.
Miss Fitzhugh shook herself roughly.
There was no longer the vision of the
sweet faced maiden. Only Zenoni paved
the floor impatiently. Miss Fitzhugh
walled, then, shiyered with excitement.
She sprang on her horse and dashed reck-
lessly out and on toward home, her
thoughts in whirl, her heart beating
like trip hammer
She ventured to tell the story to her in
innate friend, who laughed at her creduli-
ty. "Your dreams always were SO tragic
al and interesting" she said. "Of course
you slept, and the vision was dream of
all you had pictured.
But Patty Fitzhugh shook her head
She firmly believes in her vision, and she
never wants to repeat her adventure. She
prefers the monotony of her existence
Rhodes Campbell in Philadelphia Times