Year: 1862

Written for the Sunday Times.


1t was All-Hallow Eve-a cold, winrry
night, with drifts of ieecy clouds chasing
each other across the moon, and alternate
ly hiding and unveiling the frosty sparkle
of the stars night when all things had
a look of mystery, when ghostly lights and
shadows lay upon the paths, and the dis
mantled boughs rustled and cracked as
though whispering to each other-a night
for timid men to shrink from lonely paths
and quicken their steps as they passed near
white-stoned churchyards-a night which
might well have tempted those uncanny
things of which old stories tell us, to walk
abroad and play their strange pranks on
mOrtals


An unlueky night for wedding, said
many village gossip, as the lights began
to glitter from the windows of the hand
some house upon the hill, where the great
est beauty of all the country round sat
decked already for her bridal. But she,
that young fair bride, knew nothing of
these whispers, and would have laughed
such idle words to scorn if she had heard
them. The night which was to give her to
her lovers arms mist be the most blessed
of all the year. III


she heard, as s{fe sat smiling before her
mirror, folded in her soft white veil, and
looking strangely fair and spirit-like, the
soughing of the rising wind and the rattle
of the long bare branches of the oak trees
on the roof She heard also the shrill
voices Of the boys going from door to door
along the quiet village street, according to
their annual custom, with the merry cry of
''Holly Eve Holly Eve !" and above all
the distant clatter of a horses hoOf, far
away as yet, but coming nearer every mo-
ment Her impatient lovers steed, as she
believed, though she kept the thought in her
young heart, and said nothing of it to her
pretty bridesmaids OF to the old nurse, who
busted herself still about some little items
of her brides toilette, as though 10th to
leave her, even for moment. Faster it
came and faster, leaving the broad smooth
road for the grass-grOwn path which led
up to the dwelling, as she could tell by
the softening Of the sound, and, hating at
last beside the gate, then mans footsteps
echoed through the hall and up the stairs,
and a knock came upon the panels of the
door where the bride and her attendants
sat.


No bridegroom's timid rap: fierce an
CRY blow, which made the women within
start and tremble, and turned the brides
soft cheek to an ashy hue. Why, they
could not tell; bet there seemed to be an
evil import in the sound, and old Katha-
rine's hand shook as she unlocked and
opened the door. A man stood without
a tall old man, with iron gray hair. He
pushed past her almost rudely, opened the
door, passed in, and stood leaning against
it after it was closed, with both hands
clenched and foam upon his purple lip.


The bride had arisen, and stood with her
hand upon her heart, looking at him. She
knew the face well; it was that of the IA
ther other intended husband, but so strange
ly altered that at first she had believed it
to be that of a stranger. She dared not ask
him why he came there; her heart forboded
evil too surely. She could only stare at
him with her staring eyes and wait for him
to speak.


The words came at last.


"Put away your veil and your orange
blossoms, girl. The bridegroom will not
come tonight, and you would scarcely
welcome him if he should do So"


The blue eyes sought his in bewilder-
ment, and the young girl murmured:


"He not come! not welcome him
What can you mean? What awful thing
has happened?"


"He is lost to us!" said the old man
"Lost to US forever!"


''Dead!" she moaned, els he dead?"


81 wish it were that, cried the old man.
81 had thousand times rather tell you
that l had closed his eyes for their last
slumber than bring you the news l 10:
But it must be spoken. He has ruined
himself and broken all of our hearts. He
has robbed the man who trusted him, and
but for the mercy of that man would be
common felon. He is thief-a thief do
you hear that, girl ?"


''It is some falsehood, some base SLAM
der!" cried the girl. 81 am certain that
it must be so. How can you bear to