Los Angeles herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1900-1911, 1909-03-21
MARCH 81, 1902 Los ANGELES
HIS GHOS T
ntinued Twelve.

nerves were at fault, that what he saw
was but the working of disordered
brain, he would have laughed the idea
to scorn. Did his nerves play him
tricks 'cross-country. or when he got
the last ounce out Of his motor? Hith-
erto he had laughed at the idea OF
ghost, but once convinced, his brain
was not turned by the discovery. AS
became a Pittsburg ironfounder, wy
land was leyel-headed; he took that
ghostly lady's presence as matter OF
course. For reasons Of which he knew
naught, for which he cared even less,
she who had once been born in the
house which was now his was content
to honor him with her company; 1t was
enough for him that he should guard
her secret inviolate, should shield his
winsome guest from the gossip and
prying inquiries of the profane. MOI
for the world would he have shared
those uncertain and fieeting visits with
another. Let the villagers whisper OF
the Halingdon ghost, the wrinkled OLD
bag in that preposterous ruff; for his
part, he was sure that naught that saw
ored of evil could share his home with
the lady of the deep brown eyes ana
softly smiling lips. He called her his
''mascotte," looked forward with the
yearning Of a lover to catching q
glimpse of her and lived in dread lest
she, with woman's waywardness, might
forsake him and mis- house.
1t happened late in the following au-
tumn that the hounds had met some
fifteen miles from Halingdon, and
Naunton Wyland, an hour later, found
himself in a country with which he
was unfamiliar. But the scent was
breast high, and if the fences were
binder and closer than on the eastern
side of the country the going was good,
the pace even better. Ali but the best
were quickly left behind, and the
American was among the few who mad
reason to congratulate themselves ON
the fact that the horses they rode could
stay as well as jump. But, in spite OF
the mad exhilaration OF that still Mo-
Vember afternoon, Wylands thoughts
had wandered unaccountably from the
business on hand. Though the end was
near, the quarry sinking, the field left
far behind his mind was not set on
the country before him, but seemed
irresi5tibly drawn to his home and its
former owners. The flick of bramble
on his cheek as his horse crashed
through a hedge reused him from his
ay-dream, and he pulled himself to-
gether at the sight of timber and
brook at the farther side of the pasture.
For a moment he looked about him;
field ahead was a huntsman, whip
and a solitary rider, and between,
bank surmounted by posts and rails.
and the reed-grown water. In another
moment he had gathered his horse for
the leap; they rose 10 the rasp OF
breaking woodwork, the horse lurched
sideways and Naunton Wyland lay
stretched on the grass, blind to the
glory of the autumn sunset, deaf to the
music of the disappearing pack.
His limbs seemed numb, his head
swimming, when the squire of Haling-
don woke to consciousness in the road
side inn. The room was small, SPARSE
ly furnished-in semi darkness, for
curtain was drawn before the window
and very still. Wyland stared about
him in the dimness, at the low ceiling,
at the dull brown paper upon the walls,
tried to raise his head, and sank back
upon his pillow with a groan. He
closed his eyes for pain, and at the
same moment was aware OF light
football, the rustic of a woman's skirts,
and a shadow moving in the dimness.
Then a hand swept his brow, cool
liquid trickled between his lips. and,
moaning, he sank to sleep.
Naunton Wyland slept much that
bleak December, or lay in a waking
dream, with strange sounds in his ears,
wild fantasies in his brain.
He knew that he was in the Red
Lion inn, two miles from Uckheld, that
they had carried him there that day
when he had ridden at the post and
rails, that he was i'll, that he had been
worse; at times he was conscious of
voices whispering in the darkness about
him, of all but invisible forms moving