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'KiS"' j AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. jk1riS"
Vol. "V. IN'ow BlooiuflcM, Ph., rTiiOHany, .Tuly 35, 1871. IVo. 30.
J Fnbllshcd Weekly,
At New Bloomfleld, renn'a.
BY
FRANK MORTIMER.
SUBSCRIPTION TERMS.
ONE DOLLAR 1'EJl YEAR !
GO Cents for 0 Months 40 Cents
for 3 Months,
IN ADVANCE.
Intercepted Letters.
fields wcro turning brown; tlio plt-
. iloss wind was stripping tho trees of
their gay dresses, ono melancholy robin
piped plaintively from the tall elm at tho
foot of the garden. Tho whole world was
putting on sackcloth and ashes, it seemed
to Syl, as she stood at the garden gato bid
ding Stephen Lawrence good-by.
" It will only be for a littlo while," ho
said, looking tenderly down into tho tear
brimmed eyes. "Before you begin to
think of spring, I shall como back come
back to claim my wife ! Syl, darling, be
true to me, whatever they say, whatever
happens 1"
"I will," answered Syl.
"I will," she murmured, over aud over
again to herself, watching him until the
turn in tho road hid bim from her sight,
"whatever happens, whatoverthey say!"
"They" meant her mother and Aunt
Jano j Aunt Jane, especially. The sitting
room door was ajar, and Syl heard hor
voice as sho went into tho house.
"You have been very imprudent to al
low hor to go with him so much, Susan,"
she said. "I never had any opinion of
theso city young men that como along as
sure as tho summer docs, to turn all tho
girls' heads, and artists are always poor as
church mice, overybody knows. As for
tho notion he has got into Sylvia's head
that sho has a wonderful talent for draw
ing, It is all sneer nonsenso, oi course.
She's got no money to pay to learn, and if
she bad, and could bo a great artist, sho
couldn't make so much money as sho'U
have whon she is Derrick Hurst's wife,
without tho trouble of earning it. For my
part, I am very glad that dreadful smooth
spoken Mr. Stephen Lawrence is going
away, and I hopo Sylvia has got a littlo
common seuso left, and wont insist upon
writing to him. Wo must get her safely
married to Derrick Hurst boforo Christ
mas 1 But I cm suro I don't know where
her wedding outfit is to como from. Oh,
that wo should huvocomo to such poverty '"
Syl didn't care to hear any more. She
stole softly up stairs to her room, aud shut
the door to put out tho sound of tho voices
down staiis that it mado her almost frantic
to hear. It was not that she cared so much
for what Aunt Jane said, for sho was al
ways suro to have something to worry and
complain about ; the slightest thing would
do. Syl remembered, wondering when sho
was a very littlo girl, what Aunt Jano
would do when sho got to heaven, where
thero would bo nothing to fret about. Aud
that was before she bad any real trouble
Now sho woio w idow's weeds, and there
wo 10 traces of suiVering in her face. Six
years before her husband had gono to Cali
fornia to seek his fortune. lie was suc
cessful even beyond h is expectations, and
in a year started for homo with money
enough, so ho wrote, to make them all in
dependent for lifo. But ho never reached
home. Ho was seen at Allston, a town on
ly ten miles distant, on a stormy winter
night, and be was never soon again. Ho
seemed to drop out of existence complete
ly, then, leaving not tho shadow of a traco
behind ; whilo at home they waited and
watched for him in vain. Tho road from
Allston was long and lonely, to bo sure,
aud ho was a careless man, and might have
boasted of the money ho was carrying
home, but robbers were very uncommon
thero, and nobody had seen any strangers
about. His disappearance created a great
excitement for a time, and then was forgot
ten, as such things are, except by his wife
and sistor Syl's mother who waited and
watched, and caught their breath at tho
sound of every footstep, In the long, dreary
nights and days, and grow sick at heart as
the suspense settled down into a certainty
that he would never come ; and yot, not
nultn certainty, for even now a sudden
knock at the door, or a loiter in au un-
known handwriting, would mako their
hearts thrill.
So, remembering Aunt Jane's troublo,
Syl tried to be patient with her continual
complaints and her interforenco with all
her affairs. But she did think sho might
be allowed to marry without her consent.
Aunt Jano had a horror of poverty, and so
had Syl's mother, and poverty was knock
ing loudly at thoir door. Syl's father bad
died when sho was a baby, leaving his wife
and child littlo besido tho farm they lived
on ; and, wanting shrewd brains to tako
caro of it, that littlo bad dwindled rapidly
away. Of late, the harvest had proved a
failure every year, the farm was mortgaged
at first, then passed entirely out of thoir
hands, and Aunt Jano declared they should
all go the poor house unless Syl married
Derrick Hurst. Her mother said less,
but Syl knew that her heart was
as firmly set upon her marrying Derrick
Hurst, as Aunt Jano was. Before Stophen
Lawrence camo, sho had thought that she
might somo day do as they wishod, if thero
woro really no other way to kcop them from
starving, but now, not for worlds ! not if
they all had to beg thoir bread, she said to
herself, every timo sho heard his namo
mentioned. She had never liked Derrick
Hurst. Sho remembered him as a surly,
ill-natured boy when they went to school
together; she had always preferred auy
one of the other boys for a cavalier, and
been annoyed and indignant when the
girls teased her about him, for ho always
insisted upon drawing her sled and brought
her applos and candy, aud mado himself
her devoted slavo. Ho. had never been a
favorite iu the villago until of lato his evi
dent prosperity aud wealth had mado him
popular. Whon his father died, seven or
eight years before, they had been poor, ov
erybody said ; tho farm on which they lived
three miles out of tho villago, was all "run
ning down," and the house going to decay;
and for two or threo years afterward Der
rick had sceinod to have no ambition to
make things bettor. But all at once there
was a change. Derrick went away to tho
city, and stayed nearly a year, and mado
money in fortunate speculations, people
said. At any rate, tho farm soon began to
hold its own with the best farms in the
country ; and it was no wonder, the old
farmers said, considering the money that
was spent on it. The bouso was repaired,
too, but now that was not fine enough for
Derrick. His new house in tho villago was
almost done a stately mansion, witli a
French roof, and bay windows, and all mod
ern appurtenances, finer than any body in
Densboro had ever dreamed of having.
And of this fair mansion Syl was invited
to bo mistress. A lucky girl, everybody
said. Thero wasu't another girl in Dens
boro who wouldn't jump at tho chance,
even if there were some who woidd consid
er Derrick an incumbrance Ouo couldn't
expect to have such a position in life with
out some drawbacks. And Dorrick was a
fine fellow, with the dress and manners of
a gentleman, aud, if the Hursts had been
a rather worthless drinking set, tho Der
ricks, his ancestors on his mother's side, j
wero the first people in the country. Of
course Syl had only leen flirting with that
artist from the city to teaso Derrick ; she
was always a bit of a coquette. Sho would
novor bo such a fool as to refuse Derrick.
Syl had refused Mr. Derrick Hurst, but
ho did not seem able to realize, any moro
than tho rest of tho villago people, that
sho could bo in earnest iu declining such a
position in life as ho offo red her, or else, as
his face indicated, ho was not tho ono to
tako no for an answer, not tho ono to ac
cept defeat whilo there was a shadow of a
chance of victory. And ho said to himself
now, that ho had moro than tho shadow of
a chance of viutory, with Aunt Jano and
Syl's mother, on his side, and their farm in
his hands.
Syl walked her chambor floor, that after
noon, and considered what sho should do.
" Oct hor married to Derrick Hurst before
Christinas, indeed !" Aunt Jane would
see 1 And they would not go to the poor
house, either. For had not Stophen Law
rence declared that sho had wonderful tal
ent, and, with tho instruction he had, giv
en her, might paint pictures that would
sell, might become in time, a famous ar
tist? Already Syl fancied herself present
ing the deed of the farm to hor mothor on
hor own wedding day the day whon she
should be married to Stephen Lawrence,
with scarcely a remonstrance even from
Aunt Jane. For when she should be a
millionaire, by her own labors, who would
presume to dictate to her ? And so Syl
reared her stately castle, and its founda
tions, in the talent that she felt and know
she possessed, looked so solid, that sho
would have laughed at any body who call
ed it a castle in the air.
' It scorns to mo you were out a good
while," said Aunt Jano, whon Bite went
down stairs. " Mr. Hurst was up hero to
see you. I guess he'll como again this
evening. I suppose you know that tho
rent is due, and there s no way that I
know of to pay it. It isn't vory pleasant
to bo dependent on anybody that you
treat as you do Dorrick Hurst !"
" We are not going to bo dependent on
Dorrick Hurst. I have a way to pay tho
rent, and I don't think ho will have to wait
for it more than a month, at the most."
Aunt Jano opened her eyes wido.
" O, you expect to earn the money by tho
exercise of your talent, I suppose 1" sho
said, scornfully.
"Yes," said Syl, with provoking cool
ness.
' Well," said Aunt Jano after a pauso,
making a feint of wiping hor eyes with her
handkerchief, "If John had only lived,
your mother and I shouldn't bo obliged to
depend upon a silly heartless chit of a girl
like you. Talent, fiddlesticks 1" she cried
removing hor handkerchief as her wrath
began to rise again" I'd rather have com
mon sense enough to see which sido my
broad was buttered on, thau all the talent
in the world 1"
Syl withdrew from the contest thon, for
however long it might last, Aunt Jano was
always suro to have the last word.
Derrick Hurst mado his appearance that
evening, with his black brows a littlo un
bent from their usual frown ; now that tho
coast was clear ho was sure of winning.
But tho reception Syl gave him was an y-
thing but promising. " We shall ask you
to wait only a little while longer for your
your rent, Mr. Hurst," sho said,with some
thing of a grand air, and a touo that said,
"of course, you could have como hero only
on business 1"
"Rent! don't talk to mo of rent!" said
ho, impatiently. " You kuow I am glad
and happy to have you live hero as long as
until you come to live iu my new house,
with me, Syl !"
Tho angry blood mounted to Syl's fore
head, and hor eyes flashed. " That will
novor bo !" she said, and left him for her
mothor and Aunt Jano to entertain, whilo
sho went to her own room, aud tried to for-
cot her aiiL'er iu tho delights of canniuo
and cobalt.
While Mr. Dorrick Hurst, taking his
homeward way, said to himself, with an ex
clamation which he would not linvo cared
to havo Syl hear :
" It will be ! it shall bo ! and soon, too
Syl's first picture was soon finished, for
sho put her whole soul into it, and worked
night and day. Sho sent it to an art deal
er iu the nearest largo city, and waited in
anxious suspense to learn its fato, on which
all her hopes depended. Stephen Law
rence had askod her to send it to him to
sell, but bIio know that if he wero unablo
to sell it ho would by it himself to save her
from disappointment, and let her think she
had been successful. So sho dotorminod to
win her way without help. It seemed an
ago to her before sho heard from her pic
ture. Then a brief discouraging letter
camo. Her picture was bold aud some
what original, but showed an unskilled
hand. By years of study and practico sho
might win success, but now the market
was lilleil with pioturos like hers, which
could find no sale.
So Syl's castlo crumbled, before her eyes,
utterly into ruins, soon, for Stephen Law
rence's letters suddenly ceased. Syl was
was sure at first that that ho must be ill or
dead, and kopt on writing to him, in vain
Aunt Jano and hor mother wero loud in
proclaiming that they had known, all tho
time, he was only flirting with Syi ; ho was
on the lookout for a rich wife : there wero
girls enough who could be fooled into mar
rving him, by his handsomo face and his
soft speeches.
It was long before Syl doubted him ; sho
conjured up a thousand things, probable,
and improbable, that might havo prevent
ed his writing. Sho never quite lost faith
in him. But what was she to do? Her
"mithcr pressod hnr sair," as in tho ' old
song; disappointment and suspense had
made hor pale and ilk and tho village poo
pie began now to shako their heads, aud
say that Syl Shepard was iu love with that
artist, after all, aud was pining away on his
account, and Syl was proud, and that was
hard to bear ; and, more than all, they were
dependent on Dorrick Hurst for shelter
by-and-by what would keep them from
starving, now that her talent had failed her,
So it camo to pass that Dorrick Hurst
went homo ono night.triumphant, leaving
his betrothal ring on Syl's finger. Tho
new house was finished and ready for its
mistress, and tho wedding was arranged to
tako placo in the last of January. Aunt
Jano and Syl's mother, and Dorrick had
arranged it, and Syl did not oven hint at a
delay. She feigned an interest in hor wed
ding preparations, and tried her best to bo
cheerful, even gay, for Syl was not ono to
wear her heart upon her slcevo. Sho knew
that sho could never forget Stephen Law
rence, and that happy sunimor past, but
sho banished all thought of them, ns much
as possible, from her mind. But she could
not give up her painting, though that re
called her teacher consolation ; the only
way in which sho could forget her sorrow,
for a moment.
It was only three weeks before tho wed
ding day. Thero was to bo a ball at Alls-
ton, and, after repeated urging from Der
rick, Syl had consented to go. Sho was
tho prettiest girl in Densboro', and Derrick
liked to display his conquest. To Syl, now,
such gayet ies wero torturo, and she was
glad enough to find it a stormy day when
she awoke.
"La," said Aunt Jane, "the storm wont
hurt you ! You may be sure that Derrick
wont mind it, for he is determined to show
you to the Allston folks."
And Derrick didn't mind, though tho
Btorm raged still moro fiercely, as it drew
towards night. Syl had been strangely ner
vous and excited all day. She felt a pre
sentiment of something going to happen,
whothor good or ill she could not. And,
though sho laughed at hor own folly, she
could not rid herself of it. Sho was gay
without an effort, and Aunt Jano and her
mother agreed with Dorrick Hurst that she
had never looked so well In her lifo. Sho
woro a whito muslin dross, caught up with
cherry ribbons over a cherry silk petticoat
that had boon Aunt Jano's, in the days of
her youthful gayoties, and tho ribbons were
not so bright as hor cheeks. Even the long
dreary rido through the storm to Allston,
with Derrick Hurst besido her, could not
tako away her spirits. When they passed
the Hurst farm, which was out on the road
to Allston, tho great lonely old house mado
Syl shudder. Thero were pine trees around
it, and they mado such a lonesome moaning
as the wind swept through them !" She felt
a thrill of thankfulness that that was not
to bo her homo. Derrick s mother was to
live there still, after he was married and
gono to his new house. She was very old,
and never went outside tho door. There
wcro stories about that sho had lost hor
mind, or was insano ; nobody knew exactly
what was tho matter, for nobody except
Dorrick and his aunt had seen her for years.
The aunt, his father's sister, was to live
with her still ; she was a stern, hard-
featured old woman, who never had lived
aud never would livo in any house where
she could not bo mistress. Syl had only
soen hor once or twice the Hursts had al
ways lived in a solitary way having very lit
tlo to do with tho village peopU) but from
that slight acquaintance sho had decided
sho could readily excuse her from living
with her.
Syl was the gayest of tho gay at tho ball,
but it was only bocauso of a nervous rest-
lossncss that had nothing to do with hap
pincss.
The storm had Increased witli every
hour after nightfall, and when they set out
on their return it raged fearfully ; the rain
and sleet drove into tho carriago so that
Syl was drenched, the darkness was intonso,
and tho horse stopped entirely every now
and thon, unablo to struggle against the fu
rious wind.
" Wo may bo able to got as far as my
house," Derrick said. " ou cannot possi
bly get home to-night. Aunt Joanna will
tako care of you and give you somo dry
clothing."
Any other timo the thought of passing
tho night in that house, that had always
looked so dreary and ghostly to her, would
have been insupportable to Syl, but now
in tho storm and darkness the light that
streamed from its windows looked cheery
and Inviting. Still, if it had been possible,
she would have preferred to go homo, and
she was sure Derrick would have preferred
to have hor, for ho always soemod averse to
having her enter that houso.
But Aunt Joanna mado an effort to relax
hor grim features into a smile, as she greet
ed her, and bustled about, with quite
show of hospitality, to get her some hot
tea and dry clothing. But when she usher
ed her Into tho room where she was to sleep,
Byl's heart almost failed her. It was
great desolate room on the ground floor,
with a damp uninhabitable fooling, and
looking as if nobody had entered it for
years. The dust lay thick on the clumsy
old-fashioned furniture, and the spiders had
festooned their webs over tho windows.
Miss Joanna mado somo half-muttered
apology for tho uninviting aspect of tho
room ; they so seldom had company that
she had got into tho habit of neglecting tho
rooms which they did not use. Even tho
wood-fire, burning in tho open fireplace,
did not take away anything of tho dreary,
uncanny look of the apartment. The
shadows of the firelight took ehastly
shapes on the walls; outside the wind
moaned and wailed through tho pines like
a human voico.
Sleep would not come at Syl's bidding.
She lay and listened to tho wind, and
watched the wavering shadows on the wall
that now wero ghastly faces, and now ghost
ly beckoning bands, while the night woro
slowly away. How could it bo so long, sho
wondered, ten was almost gono when she
left tho ball-room in the Allston Hotel?
Suddenly the heard slow soft footfalls iu
the hall, then tho door of her room swung
noiselessly open. Syl was not sure wheth
er sho was awako or dreaming, wheu
she saw the figure that entered a littlo old
woman with a yellow wrinkled face, and
white hair falling around it. As sho came
before the fire, so that its light fell on her
faco, Syl recognized hor. It was Derrick's
mother. She had seen hor often iu child
hood, but she had changed fearfully sinco
then. If sho had seen her anywhere else
sho would not have known hor, Syl said to
herself.
She went up to the bed and looked keen
ly, yet with a sort of terror in her face, nt
Syl. The blood grew cold in Syl's veins,
she had no strength to move or cry out. .
It isn't him nor his ghost," the old
woman murmured. " 1 ou ncedii t be
afraid ; they wouldn't kill a little girl like
you. But thero has boon blood spilled in
this house iu this vory room !" Her voice
sank to tragic- whisper ou tho last words,
and then sho moanod and rung her hands,
and paced up and down tho room.
Syl felt as if somo horrible nightman)
were upon her. And yet sho know it was
reality ; she was alouo with this mad
woman, and with no power to call for help.
She camo back to the bod soon, and bent
her lips to Syl's ear.
" There's blood on those walls besido the
bed ! They had it paporcd over, but paper
wont stay on it ; you can seo how It has
started off. I pulled up one cornor the
other day, and I saw tho blood ! Joanna
doesn't know that I eome hore ; sho would
kill me if she did ! she doesn't like to como
horsolf, and sho isn't afraid of anything
earthly. But this room is full of ghosts !
they are walking around horo, and crying
and groaning all night. I thought you
wcro ono of them, at first. Ho is hore
John Lyford, with that great gash iu his
throat, and tho blood streaming out riv
ers and rivers of blood ! Is it not very
strange that ho can como back when he
is buried so deep ? way down at tho bot
tom of tho old well ; you kuow where tho
old well is, out by tho piuo-grovo. They
carried him out there Derrick and Joan
na. It was bard, whon ho was only three
miles from homo wasn't it ? But tho old
well is deep, and no body will over know it.
And Derrick is a rich man, now, you know,
and nobody will ever know whero John
Lyford is. Derrick has built a new house ;
he don't liko to livo horo, bocauso John
Lyford's ghost comes here, and ho is going
to marry John Lyford's uioco littlo Syl
Shepard. She don't see tho blood on his
hands ; nobody can see it but me, Joanna
says ; but there it is, dripping, dripping all
the time 1"
Sho moaned and wrung her hands franti
cally,tind thon talked iucohorentlyland exci
tedly. Syl, straining her oars to tho ut
most could not catch an intelligiblo word.
All hor terror had vanished in tho oxcite
moet of tho fearful discovery she had mado.
Was it truth, or only the fancies of this dis
ordered brain ?
The gray light of dawn was just begin
ning to stream into tho window, and the
old woman took hor doparturo, firht coming
to tlio bedsido again, and looking, with
that same tetriliod expression, at Syl, as if
not yet sure that sho was not a ghost.
Syl waa not bewildered nor frightened,
now. Sho was filled with amazemont and
horror, but her brain had never been clear
er. How plainly the story had bean told.
And thore was not a shadow of doubt of its
truth In her mind. A hundred trifles
that she had scaroely noticed before,erowd
ed up In hor memory to confirm the story.
Derrick's nervousness at unoxpooted foot
steps and sounds, the sudden palor that