The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-08-16

"Queerr'
Isn't it? You're not In a hurry. are
you2 Let us get in behind that great
chestnut there, and have a smoke while
We watch"
'An right. Anything to pass the time.
But come halfway up the avenue. There
Is a hollow there in the bank, where we
can lie and take a whiff-but will not the
smoke frighten off the ghost2'
Better not smoke, then" laughed
Watts Il would really like to see a bona
Come this way" Hnlhouse said. step
ping inside the gate. The place is quite
! familiar TO me Should the owner chal-
! ienge US for trespassing. I shall tell him
mat | was merely having a look at the
old place. By the way, who lives here
now, l wonder?"
An elderly man and his wife, hear.
and the White Lady, of course"
The two walked over the grass a few
steps, and lay down in the hollow of the
| bank; but though they lay there talking
over everything until the twilight deep
ened into night, and the moon sank be-
hlnd the encompassing hills, and only the
/ aim starlight showed their faces, no ghost
as yet appeared.
Il guess it's a fruad," said Watts. Let
US go down to the town. Where do you
AT the hotel. for the present. Yes, as
/ you say, this haunting business Is evil
IDENTITY fraud. Still, the place will al
ways be haunted for me. l passed the
best and purest hours OF my life in this
| same spot" remarked Hillhouse. getting
/ up to his feet, and signing audibly as he
looked down the avenue.
| Watts, who was already on foot, did
not reply. He was peering intently through
| the trees.
I could swear I saw a CLEAN OF white
just now" he said. in a whisper.
/ shows the power Of Imagination, my
| dear fellow" laughed Hillhouse, but at
| that moment his arm was clutched as in
a vice b. the hand Of Watts. while the
other was extended before him with
pointed finger.
rs that Imagination? My God! Look
| at that!' he whispered tensely, and
| gliding round the end of the house. COM
Ing straight toward them, moved a figure
! IN white All White save for the dark
hair, which hung tangled upon her Shout
ders and about her face.
| Woman or spirit, whatever It is, we
shall see" Watts continued. Let US
| hide behind this tree"
| Pasively and without a word Hillhouse
| suffered Watts to drag him in behind
| the tree, and in a few minutes they were
| certain that IL was no ghost; the crunch
! ing of her shoes upon the gravel declared
her to be some human being walking leis-
urely along
Watts craned his neck and peeped
round the tree, and swiftly drew into the
| shade again.
IT'S a woman" he breathed; she is
quite clOSe-shH
But Hirhouse looked round the other
I
of them he sprang out. and with a wild
cry caught her fast in his arms.
Anna! Anna! oh, my darling! What
is this? Why are you here? Speak to
me, Anna; have l startled your"
1t was Anna, but she was not startled;
nothing on earth could startle her any
more. IL would have been natural had
she fled shrieking from the sudden rude
grasp in which she was so unexpectedly
EMBODIED, but Anna had drifted into a re-
gion where there was no expectation and
no disappointment, no sorrow, no Joy, only
a strange and visionary calm.
| Dear Archie, you know l love you all
ways, and when you are a great and IA
nous painter you will cine for me, will
you not? You will come for your little
wife? You will like auntie's husband, 1
know you will. Did you know auntie
married an old gentleman? Isn't it funny,
at her age?' Here she paused to laugh;
a low, musical word-sounding laugh that
made the blood curdle. ITO think of old
| auntie being married before US. Archie
But we will be so happy. Auntie's hus-
band has bought back the old place, and
we are an going back to the Luggie side
again, and you and 1, Archie will walk
in"
All this she said, with her thin face and
sweet eyes full of love looking up in dim
ness to his without surprise or emotion
| of any kind whatever, while HilIhouse
| stared at her with slow, comprehending
| horror. Watts had heard of no tragedy
| connected with the place. Heavens! here
was the tragedy of murdered soul look
ing love into the eyes of the murderer
| Suddenly she wrested herself from his
slackening grasp and glanced fearfully
| around.
''The shadowsr' she whispered, 1.-THE
shadows! Where do they come from?
They brighten me! the shadows, oh! the
shadowsr'
A mufied shrek escaped her, and she
fed down toward the house and disap-
! peared.
Watts. who had been a spellbound wit
| ness Of the scene, drew long breath
and stepped forward to Hillhouse, and
| laid his hand on his shoulder. He was
still gazing at the spot where she had van
ished a cold dew glistened on his pallid
face his hands felt like ice, he shook
| like one in an ague fit.
| Come, old boy" said Watts, kindly
and Hillhouse, shivering, suffered him
self to be led away.
In eloquent silence they walked slowly
down toward the town. They were enter
! ing it when Hillhouse, under a lamp-post,
| stopped and turned his wan and haggard
! face in piteous appeal to Watts.
''Watts-you are a decent fellow, and
believe in things more than do. Do you
| think God will ever forgive me for that
| that murder up there?"
Il don't know, Hillhouse-how should I
know? Can you forgive yourself?"
CThe End)