The daily morning journal and courier., 1904-06-09


 reached my chair they stopped, and I distinctly felt something like a light touch on my face. Then came the soft patterings again, away from me this time, and the door closed as slowly as it had opened. While I sat there too | frightened to move I heard a rustling, and there by my feet was little green
 snake wriggiing his way out as fast as he could. He went, too, either through
 the closed door, or else he disappeared in some other way. l screamed then;
 the snake and footsteps together were l too much for my nerves. When Anne came she found me in mysteries. Since that afternoon the servants have heard those footsteps and seen the snake that follows the sound. Every one but Anne left yesterday, and I shall go. too, as soon as you can take me away
 T gazed at my sister in astonishment, thinking the mind had become unsettled by her loneliness of the place. Do you think believe all this nonsense?' I said, increduIously. Surely you must have imagined it.
 You shall see for yourself was all the reply she made. and nothing more
 would she tell me; but late that after noon, as we two sat in the sewing room, the door slowly opened and the scene my sister had so wildly described was enacted before me, corresponding in every detail with her story. The moe casined footsteps. the light touch on the face, the wriggling figure of the snake that vanished so mysteriously-all these compelled me to believe that something, I knew not what, was in the room and held possession of the house. Like an Indians seemed the soft tread of the moccasins, and the air was vibrant with the presence of something vague and intangible, but still there.
 T was dumbfounded at what I had heard and seen. I had never believed in spiritual phenomena of any kind. but the strangely audible footsteps and the elusive reptile were certainly unac- countable. I sent my sister down to Bangor, wIlila I remained here to in vestigate the mystery. The strange sounds still continue. and I am as far away as ever from solving the uncanny problem The agent from whom rent ed the house confessed that every ten ant had left suddenly, always giving the same reason-they couldn't stand the snakes and phantom footsteps. For years, the agent told me, Pine Bar lrens had remained empty. Then he re- ceived orders to repair and rent it, but no tenant ever remained very long.
 After my sister left and had, with difficulty, procured a housekeeper, took pains to investigate the past his tory of the place. It was long time before I succeeded, but finally, when in Montreal, I discovered an ancient dame who had been cook at Pine Barrens during the old regime of the C. family. In broken English she told me. all that she could remember of the tragedy that occurred when she was an inmate of this place. Irf true, the crime perpetra- ted here at Pine Barrens is one of the most cruel and barbarous I have ever heard of. I have only the word of an ignorant woman as testimony, and, still more convincing, the moccasined foot steps that ever haunt these rooms.
 Mrs. L., the mistress of Pine Bar rens, was beautiful Spanish woman. whose husband was a famous sea cap tain of the long ago. He first married Mrs. Us sister, by whom he had one child, little Dolores. This baby would be great heiress when she became of age, as she would inherit the property of a distant relative for whom she was named. If Dolores should die then the |vast estate descended to her mothers sister All this sounds rather roman tic and far fetched. but I am giving these details in order that you may bet ter understand what followed. The old French woman learned this family his- tory from the nurse of little Dolores. Soon after the first wife died Captain L. married her sister. and left his ship long enough to build home for his young bride. whom he brought back with his little girl to his native town of Meddybemps. Here they remained, and the captain went to sea again. He wor- shipped his baby daughter, while the
 foreign woman,' as the villagers called her, seemed to dislike the bonny child. No sooner had Captain L. sailed than there appeared at the house a myster- ious old negress of sable hue who took charge of Dolores and claimed to be her nurse. Coinciding with this wo- mans advent was the arrival of the snakes that now infest the house. It was whispered that the mistress and uurse knew more about these reptiles than any one else, and it was said that Dolores was taught to play with these repusive creatures. In late afternoon the little girl, who always wore Indian moccasns of peculiar and beautiful workmanship. a gift from her father, would run up to the nursery (now the sewing roonn), with pet snake gliding along behind her.
 ''The village people were mortified at the strange tales the servants spread broadcast through the town. All sorts of gay doings went on with Madame L., the foreign woman,' at the head of ev- erything. The child was more and more neglected and given altogether into the charge of the old nurse.
 'One day a terrible thing happened. The winsome Dolores died very sudden ly, from the effects of snake bite, the doctors said, though none of the snakes found in the cellar was deemed poison ous. There were those among the ser- wants who did not hesitate to say that cabra had been seen in the nursery that morning, and that the foreign wo- man and old nurse had brought it there. Nothing could be proved; the captain was away, and little Dolores was bur- jed long months before her father came