Year: 1876


Shakspeare's matchless creations, and wonder
ed whence the inspiration that he drew O
Hamlets Father and Duncan's Ghost.


Taking up one of the elegant little volume
I had placed beside me, found it to be Muir
rays pocket edition of Byron's dramas, ane
opening it, my eye fell upon the following:


"When the moon is on the wave,


And the meteor on the grave;


Shall my soul be upon thine,


With power and with sign.


Though thy slumber may be deep,


Yet t6y spirit shall not sleep;


By q power to thee unknown,


Thou canst never be alone


Though thou seest me not pass by,


Thou shalt feel me with thine eye,


As thing that though unseen,


Must be near thee and hath been.


And when in that secret dread,


Thou hast turned around thy head,


Thou shalt marvel am not
| AS thy shadow on the spot"


Enough of that for once" I muttered
rather lugubriously, closing the diminutive
volume. "These utterances of the Spirit oi
the Alps are not particularly inspiriting, tc
say the least, however confrmatory of oul
view of Miss Girard's belief. Let me turn
for relief to page of the immortal Dickens
I took up another book-a work of the
great novelist-and read brief but vividly
drawn picture of travel, wreck and suffering
concluding as follows:


"As recall the dispersal and disappearance o.
nearly all the participators in this once famous
shipwreck Thoughts of another kind o
travel come to my mind. Thoughts of voyagel
unex pectedly summoned from home thoughts o
this unhappy wayfareri in the depths OF his sorrow
in the bitterness of his anguish, in the helpless
ness of his reproach, in the desperation OF his
desire to set right what he had left wrong, and dc
what he had left undone. For there were many
things he had neglected. Little matters while he
was at home and surrounded by them, but things
of mighty moment when he was at an immeas.
urable distance. There we're many, many bless
ings that he had inadequately felt; there were
many trivial injuries that he had not forgiven
there was love that he had but poorly returned
there was friendshiptha he had too lightly prized
there were million kind words that he might
have spoken a million kind looks that he Nigh,
have given; uncountable slight easy deeds in
which he might have been most truly great and
good. for aday (he would exclaim) for but one
day to make amends! But the sun never shone
upon that happy day. Why does this traveller
fate obscure the other histories Of travellers and
| q
make his journey? Even 80. Who shall say that
may not then be tortured by such late regrets
that may not then look from my exile on my
empty place and undone work? stand upon
fall, and may little heed them but with every
wave the sea is rising, and I know that it will
float me on this travellers voyage at last.'


I laid down the book in thoughtful silence.
If these mighty men, whose genius had
been of such incalculable benefit to the hu-
man race-whose spiritual insight into the
profoundest depths of our common nature
can only be fully appreciated by the centuries
that succeed them-if these and kindred souls
held such faith, might there not be in Miss
Girard's theory truth and reason beyond
anything had yet conceived?


Without doubt-Yes!


Under the impulse of my thoughts, l arose
! ttonuy 10 ssdvbessn-fasias -aad-de~ss,
I had taken halfdozen turns, more or less,
when gliding foot-step on the stairs caused
me to pause abruptly.


Was the looked-for hour at hand


glanced eagerly at the ormolu clock on
the mantel for an answer.


1t was in the act of striking, as the whir-
ring wheels denoted, and the hands pointed to
the hour of one.


Simultaneous with the stroke of the clock,
and while the air was yet vibrating with the
resonant ringing, the door was pushed open
and Miss Girard entered.


Her dress was the same as that wherein she
had left me. She had evidently only lain
down. If there was any difference in her ap-
pearance, it was undesirable, save in, per-
haps, a greater frmness of carriage and
slight rigidity of limb and muscle. Her eyes
were wide open, but not staring; the long,
graceful lashes raised inquiringly, but not
apprehensively.


She passed me so close that involuntarily
stepped aside to avoid collision and though
her eyes rested for single instant full upon
my face, yet she gave no indications of seeing
me.


She went on till she reached the door of
what led from her fathers room, with SEEM
ing directness of purpose which showed no
signs of wavering


Herewith one hand upon the knob, and
the other outstretched to grasp the key-she
recoiled; while form and features became
convulsed with agitation.


|. I had turned when she passed me and soft
ly followed, keeping some pace with her.


I now stepped briskly to her side, as doubt,
hesitation and rising terror appeared fast
gaining the mastery-turned key and knob,
shot the bolt, and threw open the door.


A faint, musty odor-inseparable from
disused rooms long closed to the outside at
mosphere-came pouring out.


had placed hand in restraining readi-
ness to intercept any flight on the part of
Miss Girard, should she attempt one; but it
proved wholly unnecessary.


AS the door flew back on its hinges, all
doubt and hesitation vanished away-like a
step once taken that can never be retraced.
She seemed to recognize it as such, for a
glow of Joy instantly illumined her features,
merging her stately beauty for the moment
in the angelic.


Without pausing to glance about her, she
passed through the room to door at the op-
posite end that evidently opened into the pri.
vate library of which she had told me.


The door was fast.


Remembering she had said the key was
lost, hastily looked about me for some in.
strument to aid in forcing an entrance.


An old sabre, evidently of Revolutionary