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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, May 28, 1871, Image 6

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026214/1871-05-28/ed-1/seq-6/

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By Martense.
How every footstep falls upon my heart,
And how it throbs and aches beneath the tread I
From deathlike stillness to pulsation starts,
Then trembles back to silence like the dead I
In vain thou listenest, heart; he will not come,
For whom thy every pulse was wont to beat;
Ho more thou’lt thrill with joy at love’s fond tone—
Those hours were blissful, but *twas poison sweet
Those words of love, that could so mildly thrill,
, Are breathed to other ears, more blessed than
Oh I foolish heart I why wilt thou not be still—
Why grieve for love that never can be thine ?
Break if thou canst, thou foolish, floating heart!
’Twere sweet to sleep in peace beneath the sod;
Thou canst not play the faithless, trifling part—
No earthly love is thine—look to thy God !
I’d be so strong, save for thee, weak, fond heart I
My pride should bear me through the dreary
Why at each touch of memory fondly start,
And, bursting, cry for love no more thou’lt taste ?
Be silent, heart; be still, and pain no more;
Nor e’en let joy awake thee from thy sleep;
Be still within my breast, until the door
Of Heaven be opened to my weary feet.
He was in bare time to catch the stage-coach
that returned to Oakenfield, nor did the jour
ney outside that sober-going vehicle in the
chill night air in the least cool tho sickening
rage that filled him.
Tfrere was only one course for him to pur
To return to tho lone house and endeavor to
ascertain from his treacherous confederate, tho
old hag of the “Willow Weavers,” the particu
lars of the escape of tho girl his heart was now
set against with all the rancor of love turned
to hate.
It was a long walk from tho place of alight
ing to :tbo place in question, and as he strode
swiftly along the dark road, Mr. Phantom’s
mind was ; busy with cunning schemes and de
vices for compelling Mother Wheeler to dis
close all that she knew, however much, at first,
she might be averse to doing so.
“ I’ll snend my last guinea to compass my
revenge,” ha muttered. “Money is of no value
tome now,; life itself is as naught. Penalties
have no terror for mo. I only live for the
achievement of one object, for tho attainment
of which I would sell my very soul.”
Somehow it had not since occurred to him
that his confederate might have abandoned the
solitary house at the same time that her charge
either slipped from her hold, or, by her con
nivance made good her escape.
Great was his astonishment, therefore, on
making for the rear of the premises by which
he had hitherto gained access, to find the win
dows shrouded in darkness.
“She has decamped, curso her!” was Mr.
Phantom’s mental ejaculation. “She has
taken the bribe, and returned'to her villainous
husband, making sure that I shall not dare
follow her there. But she’s mistaken. I’m
not the same meek and mild person she has
been accustomed to deal with. There’s as
much difference between the, Joseph Phantom
of yesterday and to-day, as bet..een a tame,
purring cat and a wild cat of .the forest.
nine lives. I wish that sZtg, the viper, the
sweet-faced trickster who has so villainously
cheated me, had nine lives. I’d take ’em all 1
I’d crush them out all at once. .1 wouldn’t
leave her so much as a minute of the very last
one to say a last prayer in.”
But he had yet another surprise in store for
Not in the least expecting but that the door
was as fast as bolts and bars could make it, Mr.
Phantom laid his hand against it, and it yielded
to the slight touch, and swung well open.
His hopes revived.
It was clear that Mother Wheeler had not
His acquaintance with her was of no long
standing, but he knew enough of her to be
aware how extremely unlikely it was that she
would run away and leave her valuable goods
to the mercy of any tramp who might chance
to come that way.
Ho entered the house and called aloud.
There was no response.
It was pitchy dark, and he had not the least
idea in what part of the establishment might
be discovered materials for making a light.
He ventured to advance a yard or so further,
Bnd again called out. and listened for a reply.
Bid bis ears deceive him?
Was it a human voice that responded?
Not in spoken words, but by a muffled moan
ing sound that was frightful in the biack still
Mr. Phantom was by no means a man of
Still he was desperately circumstanced.
If it was a human voice, it must be that of
Mother Wheeler.
Where was she ?
Stealthily and on tiptoe he made yet further
way into the house, and finding that all was
Btill, he again ventured to call out.
“If it is you, Mrs. Wheeler, say where you
are. It is I, Mr. Phantom.”
But the next instant he repented his rash
As though it was against his very back, all in
the darkness he heard a scratching accompa
nied by a groan, that was even more dismal
than the one that preceded it.
Mechanically stretching out his hands, Mr.
Phantom’s fingers came m contact with what
unmistakably was the lock of a door.
Of the cupboard door in which Black Lutter
loh’s insensible body had been bundled many
hours before.
If fright had not held such complete mastery
over Mr. Phantom, there can be no doubt that
he would at once have made speedy exit from
a place fraught with such horror and mystery.
But his legs declined to second the urgent
prompting of his coward nature, and would
make no movement at all, except in the way of
“Who—who is it?” he gasped, still holding
on by the lock of the cupboard from whence
the awful sound proceeded.
A dolorous groan was the only response.
“Is it you, Mrs. Wheeler?”
Another groan, accompanied by a feeble
Shaking of the fast-secured door.
“I see it all now I” Mr. Phantom muttered,
savagely, to himself; the pretty, tender crea
ture, on whom I was fearful that the wind
might blow too roughly, has been at her pranks
here! There has been a struggle between the
two women, that is evident, and the young vi
rago has conquered and made her antagonist
a prisoner while she effected her escape.”
Then, in a more conciliatory voice, he called
“I would let you out, my poor woman, if I
could, but I can’t find a light, and I don’t know
how to open the door without a key. Can’t
you speak just a few words and tell mo where
the matches and candles are kept? There, I
will place my ear at the keyhole ; now I shall
be able to hear the merest whisper, if you will
make the effort.”
Mr. Phantom’s hearing was singularly keen,
and what he heard was an awful imprecation
involving the eternal ruin of some one’s eyes
and limbs, but utteied in a low, growling tone,
as by a person in great pain,
“She wishes that she had hold of her, I
think she says,” the man of the notched nails
whispered to himself. “Sodo I, the heartless
vixen! Who knows? Maybe this desperate
and enraged woman, if she is not too badly
hurt, might be disposed to assist me in my re
venge. I might be glad of the assistance of
her friends, even ; I wish I had a light.”
Another groan, an J an impatient rattling at
the inner side of the door, made the wish all
the more urgent.
Opportunely, it flashed to Mr. Phantom’s
mind that, when at the height of his felicity, a
few hours since, he had indulged in the rare
luxury of a cigar, he had likewise purchased a
box of cigar lights. They were in his Docket
Btill, and he hastily struck one.
The first glaring glimmer of its blue and sul
phureous flame, however, did not reassure
It showed him blood on the ground !
Blood from the door to tho loot of the stairs,
a yard or so distant (indeed, the cupboard was
under the stairs), all bedraggled and smeared,
making it evident that the wounded person had
been dragged that distance.
The blue light, however, showed him some
thing that was more to his purpose.
A broad-bladed clasp knife.
The implement with which Mr. Lutterloh
had forced back the catch of the window, when
he effected an entry into the solitary house,
and which had dropped from his wounded
hand when Nelly Blisset’s shot brought him
Picking up the knife, Mr. Phantom struck a
second fusee, and by tho light of it essayed to
shoot back th© bolt of the lock, all the ti.no ut
tering w’ords of comfort and consolation to un
fortunate “ Mrs. Wheeler” within, and begging
her to bear up until he could effect herrciease.
i He, howevqj*, was not expert at lock picking,
and another and still another light was struck
when, lo 1 just as he had kindled a fifth, with
a shock like that of sudden thunder, the door
flew open with a crash, and with such force as
to send him spinning against the opposite
wall. But that was not the most startling
part of the calamity. o
h The fuse© was at the height of its lurid blaze
as tho door was protected open so unexpect
edly, and there was revealed to his appalled
gaze, not a bleeding, faint, and prostrate wo
man, but tho ghastly figure of Black Lutter
loh 1
? Of but brief duration was tho light, but it
revealed enough to make Mr, Phantom utter a
scream of terror.
> Blaci Lutterloh, with his face deadly whita.
Where it was not smirched red, and with his
black, gipej ejeg gleaming yyiclj de-rUiah
Another instant, and all was black darkness,
and he was pinned, and felt himself caught by
the throat, and flung to the ground.
“ If you eay a word, if you uttor so much as
a single syllable till I give yer leave, I’ll stran
gle yer as I would a thievin’ cat,” Lutterloh
growled in his ear. “ Are you alone ?”
Ho could tell, by the descending movement
of his victim’s lower jaw on his knuckles, that
he had nodded Ins head affirmatively.
“ Where is she?”
As ho asked the questien, ho slightly relaxed
his murderous grip, and enabled Mr. Phantom
to make feeble answer.
“She! Mrs. Wheeler? I don’t know. Oh!
Lord forgive me, I never thought ”
“Not she—t’other?” fiercely demanded tho
ruffian, giving tho prostrate man such a shako
as a great dog gives a lesser one. -“The gal,
curse her! Where isshe?”
With a prodigious effort, Mr. Phantom con
trived to ejaculate:
“I echo that! Though it be with my last
breath, I, too, say curso her! Curse her, now
and forever! But why—why should you, my
friend—my dear, kind friend, who ”
“Why should I curse her ?” Lutterloh fierce
ly interrupted him. “Why—because I hate
her; aye, almost as much as I hate you. Can
I put it stronger than that, eh ? Tell mo, Mr.
P’isoner, can you ?”
Mr. Phantom felt the knuckles .again indent
ing his windpipe, and hastened to acquiesce.
“No, no, my good Lutterloh, certainly not,
or, I dare say, it seems so to you just at pres
ent; but only give me a chance, and I will con
vince you of the cruel injustice you do me. It
is sheer madness for us to lie here grappling
each other m the dark. Release me, 1 say,
and give mo a chance in the light of proving
to you that, since we so cordially hate an ene
my, wo should lovo and help one another.”
But it wasn’t a light that Mr. Phantom
wanted to prove what was the quality of his
regards for the man who had him by tho
All that he required was liberty for his right
hand! —the hand that still grasped tho broad,
sharp clasp-knife I
At present he could not use it, as ho had
been flung down with his right arm under
him, and Lutterloh’s enormous weight kept it
there. (
He felt that his life hung on a thread; that
unless he got the upper hand of the desperate
gipsy he had but a little longer to live.
But ho had to deal with one whose cunning
was at least equal to his own.
“ Yes, we’il nave a light; but not aforo I find
my knife will I let you go, you old snake! I
heard you tinkering at tho lock with it; where
abouts did you drop it? Turn over, p’raps it’s
under yer.”
There was a moment when, had Mr. Phan
tom possessed the courage, ho might have
used the formidable implement, but the op
portunity required such prompt embracing
that his courage bungled over it, and it was
His fingers relaxed their grip on its handle,
and he pushed it a little away.
“Yes, it is under me—l can feel it,” said ho,
innocently; “just under the small of my back.”
Then he was permitted to rise.
“Go afore me, and keep on striking them
lights till we find whereabouts the kitchen is,”
Lutterloh growled, authoritatively.
•Not daring to disobey, Mr. Phantom led the
way, and now that the way was lit, easily
enough succeeded in finding the room.
Prom the ceiling of the kitchen an oil lamp
was suspended, and after a little difficulty, Mr.
Phantom succeeded in igniting it.
Then, for the first time, ho had an oppor
tunity of noting the appearance of his enemy.
He presented a terrible spectacle.
He wore a sort of smock of a whitish color,
and the lower side of it, under his left arm,
was as though it had been dipped in crimson
His hands, too, were stained in the same
sickening manner, and even his jet black hair
was smirched as though the wounded man in
his despair had torn at it with his wet hand.
Ho could not fail to observe tho effect of
these ghastly signs on Mr. Phantom.
There was a deal of horror m the glanoo of
the man with the notched nails ; but there was
something else besido his expression that
seemed to say, “If it came to the worst, I
think I might get the mastery in a struggle
with a man wounded as desperately as this
one is.”
Cunning Lutterloh read the glance bo, at all
“Don’t make rash kalkilashuns,” said he,
with a ghastly grin, “I ain’t hurt nothing to
speak of. If you had lost so much blood out of
your withered old carcase, it ’ud ha’ drained
you dry. It’s on’y a flesh wound, I tell yer,
and the bullet passed out. It stings, it’s true,
and I like it for that. I’ve got work of a sort
afore me that a man needs spurring up to.”
And he scowled and nodded in away that
made Mr. Phantom’s heart quake.
“ The bullet 1” ho faintly ejaculated. “ What
“The ono as she, your dove, your delikit
angel—may tho devil tame her—the bullet that
she, egged on by that other beldame, shot at
me—at me,” continued Lutterloh, shaking
both his clenched, hairy fists, “ whose on’y ob
ject was to do her a good turn. Paugh!
Whereabouts is kep’ tho brandy, or the beer,
or summat ? It makes me sicker than my hurt
does when I think on it.”
And, favored by fortune, he spied on the
dresser a bottle containing the identical liquor
in requisition, and greedily drank it.
There was not very much in tho enraged
ruffian’s last observations, but to Mr. Phan
tom’s shrewd ears it furnished a clue almost to
the entire mystery. Nor, indeed, was he long
kept in any sort of doubt, for, with his chilled
blood excited by the brandy, Lutterloh at once
launched into a furious account of his injury
from first to last—including his great inciting
grievance, the “trick” that Mr. Phantom in
tended to put on him in the matter of the
poison that was given to him to doso John
Gauntlet’s ale.
“But it is all as one !” exclaimed Black Lut
terloh, with a diabolical grin, as ho took an
other pull at the brandy bottle. “I began to
be afraid that luck was dead agin me, and that
I should be done out of the treat wot I’ve long
promised myself. I s’pose it don’t mako no
difference to you how soon it comes off?’’
“What—what do you mean?” Mr. Phantom
asked, aghast. “ What treat ?”
“Toe treat of seeing you kick the bucket,”
Lutterloh coolly rep.ied. “S'pose we seo
about it at once ? 1 feels as though I wanted a
livelier after being so long boxed up in that
confounded hole under tho stairs. Como, I’ll
bo more generous to you than you would have
been to me. I’ll give you a choice : shall I cut
your throat ”
Mr. Phantom gasped out a cry of terror as
he clutched at tho edge of tho dresser for
“ Or would you prefer the more gentlemanly
process of hanging,” continued the now more
than half drunken gipsy, his maliciously
twinkling eyes showing how much in earnest
he was. “If so, here is a handy bit o’hemp,
and with that there hook in the beam over
head, we are sot up with all tho tools wot ar©
necessary to complete tho job neat and ’spec
In despair, Mr. Phantom’s eyes eagerly
sought the door, observing which Black Lut
terloh took a few leisurely steps across the
kitchen and locked tho door, and put the key
m his pocket.
“I’ll give you half a minit to mako up your
mind,” said he; “a pious creetur like you, wot
attends his chapel reg’lar, can’t want longer.
You oughter be grateful to anybody wot’ll give
you a lift out of a world wot’s so full of wicked
And tho ruffian chuckled at his own wild
sarcasm as he proceeded with great care to
make a running noose in a length of clothes
line that was lying handy.
“Or,” he remarked, sneeringly, as ho sud
denly desisted in the operation, “maybe you’d
like to die genteeler still. What about that
pisen stuff? Was it all used up that time when
you thought to play me a trick, or have you
got any leit ?”
All the time that tho reckless villain was
speaking. Joseph Phantom had stood trembling
in mortal dread.
It was terrible, after all his pains and trou
ble and scheming and money spending, to be
murdered in coid blood, as though his life was
of no more account than th kt of a rat 1
“Lutterloh,” he exclaimed, with a desperate
endeavor to speak calmly, “ we are wasting
time, precious time, in this mad talk ; let us
converse like reasonable men—as men who
have lives to save as well as revenges to grat
ify. You have drunk too much brandy now,
and it blinds you to your own interest.”
But Lutterloh, as, with the air of a connois
seur, he tried the strength of the slip-noose he
bad just completed, laughed his ugly laugh.
“A man’s interest is to get all the walus he
can out of his feller creeters, ’ said he. “ Wot
I’m goin’ to get out o’ you is your lifp. I would
rather have it than a hundred pounds, told
down I”
“Or five hundred?” Mr. Phantom suggest
ed, quakingly,
Mr. Lutterloh coolly nodded assent as he
leapt on to a table and attached tho cord to tho
hook before mentioned.
“Or a thousand 1” urged wretched Joseph
Phantom, “ a thousand pounds paid down, all
m gold. Paid down on the spot and counted,
I repeat,” lie continued, eagerly, perceiving
that Mr. Lutterloh paused in his job of gallows
making. “Bah I I thought you would grow
more reasonable presently, my dear friend.
You don’t like me; why, then, should you
make a sacrifice in my favor?”
“ I don’t mind to ; you get on with sayin’
your prayers, and don’t trouble yourself on
that score.”
“But, dear Mr. Lutterloh, you are doing so,”
now persisted the agon;zed Joseph ; “if you’ll
just desist from—from what you aro so busy
about, I’ll prove it in halt a minute. You may
take my life away from me, but you can’t take
it in wear to eke out your own. You can’t
hoard it up, and spend it for your pleasure.
But how is it with a thousand pounds? A
thousand pounds, I mean, that you take from
your enemy, leaving him penniless—a hungry
beggar, whose only resource is to bog his
bread. Think, good Lutterloh, what a blessed
feeling it must bring a man to know that tho
man lie hates is begging his bread—tramping
tne country, barefoot and ragged! An old
man such as I am, used to little luxuries and
comforts, reduced to beggary and rags, and
sleeping of Winter nights in barns and out
houses. ’ j ■
Lutterloh listened to desperate Mr. Phan-
tomf-fl extraordinary argument with disbelief in
ins eyes, though at the-same time with a-puz
xted air, as though, against his inclination, be
saw something m the case as .Mr. J?hantom
pu t it.
“ Where’s the thousand pounds ?” ho asked.
“This piece of paper represents it,” re
turned the .man of the.notched nails, inwardly
rejoicing at the prospect'of escape from death.
And, as be spoke, in a <mighty nurryhe took
from an inner pocket his pocket-book, and. un
•clasped it.
As he did so, and hastily groped among its
contents, a tiny folded paper slipped ••from.be
tween two other papers,, and fell unheeded to
the ground.
Lutterloh observed it, and as he leaped from
the .table, he placed his foot on it and kept it
•“Here is the thousand pounds;” said Phan
tom, unfolding a check for the amount; “all I
have in the world,.l swear, and all ready signed
and ready for presentation at the bank. I had
prepared it so because I -thought to .have.a
nasty use for it,” he.continued, with a savago
contortion of his white face. “Well, it is yours.
Take it and let mo go.”
Lutterloh regarded him attentively.
“Not I,” said he, with a cunning laugh.; “if
I take it I sha ll hold you fast till I prove tho
value of.it. I\ o heard, of such a thing as stop
ping checks afore now. Mind yer,” he contin
ued, “ I don’t say as I have altered my mind.
Like as not, when! have had a good think
about it, I may pay you a visit in the and
settle up in a hurry. I shouldn’t.go to sleep if
I was you. But come, we’ve had jawing
enough; now let’s get to roost for a liitle while.
I shall be glad of an hour’s snooze myself.
There’s a .heavy day’s work to-morrow for me.”
• “Yes, yes, let us get .to bed,” remarked Mr.
Phantom, eagerly, and with his mind occupied
with but one idea—escape ; “ don’t trouble
about me. I can find my way in the dark to
the room I have before slept in. Good night,
my dear friend.”
And he moved toward the door.
Lutterloh grinned.
“It ain’t no trouble at all,” said ho. “I’d
let you sleep alone with great pleasure, only I
know what a nervous old gentleman you are.
You’d be havin’bad dreams, and jumpin’out
o’ the winder, or summat. We’ll sleep togeth
er, and I’ll watch over you like a guardian
There was nothing for Mr. Phantom but to
submit, and, taking the light, he led tho way,
Lutterloh following closely behind.
To tho consternation of the man of the
notched nails, Black Lutterloh, as though in
obedience to an afterthought, had turned back
at the kitchen door to secure the cord in which
he had so ingeniously contrived a running
“Lay you down there!” exclaimed the gipsy
ruffian, pushing Mr. Phantom roughly toward
the bed.
With a quaking eye on tho rope, the latter
“Put this round your cussed old neck/’ and
Mr. Lutterloh extended the noose.
“ Mercy 1 mercy ! my dear- friend—my good
friend! You promised
“I’m agoin’ to keep my promise,” tho gipsy
interrupted him with a brutal laugh. “I’m
agoin’ to hold you last while I make up my
mind. Put your head through, I tell yer.
That’s the sort. Now, don’t yer see, I can let
you know it without wastin’ of words. You’ll
feel a sort of tightening about your gullet, and
there’ll be an end on it.”
Sweating with fright and rage, Mr. Phantom
was compelled to do as the ruffian bade him,
and when the cord was adjusted to Black Lut
terloh’s satisfaction, he flung his burly figure,
his blood-stained garments, and his great un
clean clout boots on the dainty white counter
pane, and wound his end of the cord round and
round his hand.
“ That’s comfortable,” said he, as he made
the line fast so taut that the least movement of
his victim would be made known to him. “Now
you can go to sleep and dream that yer mother
is a rocking yer in the cradle.”
Mr. Phantom’s imagination was vivid, but
scarcely equal to the task Black Lutterloh had
imposed on it.
The cradle of his childhood must have been
a thorny one indeed if it in the least resembled
the couch ho so unwillingly shared with his
For a little while, Lutterloh was restless,
groaning and muttering as though with tho
pain caused by the bullet wound in his side, .
but gradually the fumes of the brandy he had
drank overcame him, and Mr. Phantom’s
anxious ears were greeted by the sounds of
Was there no means of escapo ?
It was horrible to lay there, like an animal
tied in the shambles awaiting the pleasure of
the slaughterman. - ;
The room door was ajar.
So confident was the gipsy in his method of
securing his prisoner that he had not thought
it worth K’hilo to adjust the fastening.
Oh, for a knife 1 For that knife that reposed 1
idly in Black Lutterloh’s pocket not a foot dis
tant from his hand, but which for his life’s sake 1
he dare not touch.
Could he untie the knot?
Cautiously, and an inch at a time, ho raised
his hand, and essayed the task, but Lutterloh 1
was an old hand at setting traps and snares,
and it would have been more easy to have un-« i
twisted welded wire.
His teeth were yet good—would it be possi- 1
ole to gnaw the cord through ?
Stealthily he wriggled his head lower on the
pillow, so as to get the line in his mouth ; but,
at that instant, Lutterloh started in his sleep,
and gave it a jerk, so sudden, that Mr.
Phantom's eyeballs felt like starting out oi his 1
No, no ; it was of no use.
He must lie there, living an hour of torture
in each moment, until the ruffian who had him
so completely at bis mercy awoke and decided
his fate.
* The suspense was terrible.
There was a cnurch at some distance, and
Mr. Phantom could hear its chimes tolling the
weary hours—one o’clock, two, three, until day
began to dawn.
Then his quick hearing detected a strange
That of horses’ hoofs on the highway.
They must have been far away indeed when 1
he first beard them, for it seemed half an hour
at the very least ere they came quite close.
There was more than one horse.
Two, at least.
Clearer and louder came the sharp click,
click of the hoofs, until they could not have
been more than fiity yards distant.
“ They will pass, and I shall presently hear 1
the sounds dying away in tne distance ” 1
groaned tho miserable wretch. “Ah! if I
could only call out, and make them understand
tho peril I am in. No doubt they are honest
yeomen who would instantly halt and render i
me assistance, if I might call out and let them
know the peril I am in through this devil. But
I dare not I Ere my voice was heard, tho vil
lain wouid wake, and tighten tho cord, and I
should boa dead man.”
But Mr. Phantom was mistaken in his dole
ful forebodings.
The horsemen, whoever they were, did not ’
pass'the lone house. i
His anxious ears could make out that they 1
drew rein, while still at some little distance,
and that, walking their steeds, they came to a i
stand still by the gate of the garden. 1
What did the strange visit betoken?
Who were the horsemen ? . •
And, again, were they friends or enemies?
Friends 1
Tho mere thought of the word caused Mr.
Phantom to set his teeth together bitterly.
He had no friend—no, not one in all the wide
Who, then, were his enemies?
The curtained window was within easy hand
reach of where he laid, and commanded a view
of the garden and the road beyond.
Could he peep out ?
He triod tue daring experiment, and instant
ly repented.
The deadly noose tightened about his throat
with a jerk, and Black Lutterloh started up
right on the bed.
“What! you would slip your leash, eh?”
growled the still half asleep ruffian, “Come
closer, curse you, and lay quiet.”
And, unceremoniously, as though Mr. Phan
tom was a restive dog, Lutterloh nauled at tne
“No, no! Look—look out at the window!
They aro there I” was all that bis wretched vic
tim could gasp.
“They! Who?”
Black Lutterloh was quite awake now, and
oft the bed (still wita the string of Mr. Phan
tom’s hempen collar in his grasp, and peeping
out at the window cautiously, and with a cor
ner of the curtain raised.
Joseph Phantom had but one desperate
hope, and that was that the horsemen might
turn out to be police officers.
Bad be not given information concerning
Its suspicion of Lutterloh’s complicity m the
murder oi Joel Burke ?
What was more reasonable than that the po
lice had tracked the desperate gipsy as far as
tho “Willow Weavers,” and there obtained
from Mr. Wheeler information that enabled
them to continue the pursuit ?
If this were so, he had norn-ng to fear.
Nothing—except that Black Lutterloh might
suspect him, Mr. Phantom, of having a hand
in giving him up.
But at that instant the gipsy himself solved
the all-important problem.
“I can’t quite make ’em out—it ain’t light
enough,” he growled; “ but there’s two of
“ What, constables ?—mounted constables ?”
Mr. Phantom asked, with rash eagerness.
“Why? d’ye expect consiabies? You ask
arter ’em as though you would be disappointed
if they didn’t come.”
And, with suspicion gathering in his savage
eyes, Lutterloh eyed the other keenly, still
with a hard grip on the cord.
Mr. Phantom at once saw his danger.
“My dear Lutterloh,” he nastened to ex
plain, at the same time affecting to bo much
terrfied, “ you misunderstand me. Do J want
constables here? is it likely? If you know
all, you wouldn’t ask so preposterous a ques
tion. I—l am in as much dread of constables
as—as even you can be. Let us look out, good
Lutterloh ; you and I, t wo - wo’ro
for ’em.” ' v
i At this moment a loud rapping at the door,
• ■at the. rear of tho house, was heard.
Lutterloh’s face twitched nervously as ho
again peered out at tho window.
“They, ain’t constables/’ said ho. “I-can
seo the horses at the gate, and the saddles and
bridles on ’em, and there’s nothing of the
mounted police in tho cut of ’em. They’re gen
tlemen’s horses, and—eli 1”
And as the gipsy uttered- the startled excla
mation, ho raised tho curtain higher and
looked out more boldly.
“ What—what is it?” Joseph. Phantom asked,
new terrors seizing him.
■ “ I knows one of them horses,” Lutterloh an
swered, through his set teeth; “I ougbtor
know him, since many a score times I’ve
groomed him; it is Fury.”
“What, the squire’s horse—Squire Regi
nald’s horse ?”
“Aye, and it is Squire Reginald, and a curso
on him and all his dealings, who is at the door
now,” growled Lutterloh, furiously, as with a
single jerk he brought Mr. Phantom close to
him, “your master, you whey-faced old dog,
and a friend of his. What do they want here ?
Is it you or is it mo? Who set ’em on the
track, eh?”
And he gave the cord that still encircled Mr.
Phantom’s neck a twist round, his great fist,
causing Mr. Phantom’s eyes to star! unpleas
antly from his head.
“Not I, not I,” gasped the poor wretch. “ I
swear, though it is my last moment, that the
salvation of my soul depends on it, that I have
no hand m their coming here. Don’t, don’t for
God’s sake, man, squeeze so hard ; let me
speak 1 1 swear that Vipert is my enemy no
less than yours, and that I will help you, will
ingly help you kill him—him and his friend,
whoever he may be.”
Hypocrite as the gipsy knew him to
was that in his tone which bespoke hia desper
ate earnestness.
Beside, might there not be some truth in the
old man’s assertion ?
Had not the Master of Monkshood that morn
ing, when ho defied, and as good as turned him
out of the room in the London Hotel, ex
claimed :
“Be offj Rang Mr. Phantom and you, too l
I wash my hands of you all as rogues of the
same feather.”
Meanwhile the beating at tho outer door
with the whipstocks oi the horsemen grow
louder than ever.
“You’ll stand by me?” Lutterloh asked,
“To tho last—to the very last,” rejoined
Phantom, eagerly.
“ They’ve come armed, we may safely reckon
on that,” spoke Lutterloh, as he released tho
other’s neck oi the halter. “Wo shan’t have
much of a chance unless we are armed, too.”
■“ There’s a pistol in that trunk,” tho man of
the notched nails answered readily, as he
pointed to a new leather portmanteau, his
private property. “It is already loaded. But
the key! Let mo consider—where is the
key ?”
“Here, that’ll do just as well,” said tho
gipsy, making a heavy lunge at the lock of the
trunk with his iron-shod boot, and causing it
to fly open in an instant.
“ Only one 1 well, you .take that, you’ll do bet
ter with it than with this little tool,” continued
Lutterloh. unclasping his great Knife. “Our
safest way is through that blessed door they’re
hammerin’ at.”
“ Why not by the front ?” Mr. Phantom asked.
But Lutterloh shook his bead cunningly.
“The fox is as knowing as the fox hunter,”
said ho ; “these two, may the burn ’em!
haven’t come alone ; it isn’t human natur’ for
two men to find pluck enough. They’ve got
the traps with ’em, and they’re lurking in the
front, while clever Squire Vipert and his friend
are beating us up at back. It is because they
think that escape will be attempted at tho front,
that I shall try tho back. ’Sides, since some
body’s got to bo knocked on the head, it may
as well be one wot you hold a grudge agin.”
“To be sure, to be sure,” remarked Mr.
Phantom, read.ly enough, but with a sinister
expression in his eyes that boded no good lor
“You know how to use a pistol?” tho latter
“ Trust me ; I’m not good at long shots, but
at a few paces I’m a certain aim, my dear
And, being now in tho possession of the weap
on, almost a grin overspread Mr. Phantom’s
ghastly face.
“You go first; I’ll keep close behind you,”
he said.
“ We’ll go down as we came up, if it’s all the
same to you. It ain’t polite to walk aforo a
gentleman,” sneered Lutterloh.
Mr. Phantom bit his lip ; but, with affected
alacrity, stepped in front, and commenced tho
descent oi the dark stairs.
As before remarked, ho waa a rapid as well
as a subtle thinker.
If this was the Master of Monkshood at the
door, who was it with him ?
Perhaps the man whom, in bis coward heart,
he feared more than the ruffian close behind
What if the second was John Gauntlet ?
John, released from Newgate through the
communication he, Joseph Phantom, had made
at Scotland Yard, and now bound en a mission
of vengeance!
The impatient hammering at the rearward
door still continued, and Phantom could almost
persuade himself that he could recognize John
Gauntlet’s fiercer knocking from the other.
His only chance was to make a little favor
Black Lutterloh was his late master’s most
dajigerous enemy.
Might he not earn some claim to merciful
consideration if he put tho reckless gipsy past
making mischief?
This was his thought, and the source of tho
sudden light of satisfaction that lit his ca
daverous countenance when Lutterloh handed
him the pistol.
He would have shot him from behind, and as
ho was ascending tho stairs, had not the other
been too cunning for him.
He, however was only balked, and not beat
en, in his villainous intention.
But be was altogether at fault when he sup
posed that Lutterloh was not to the full as cun
ning as himself.
Not a movement or a glance escaped the
watchful gipsy’s observation.
The door at which the two horsemen were
knocking led directly into the front kitchen—
the kiteneu in which Lutterloh had made such
deliberate preparations for hanging Mr. Phan
tom on a meat-hook.
As they softly entered the place, tho eyes of
tho latter rested on tho hook and the beam,
and lie gripped bis pistol vengefully.
Softly as they trod, however, thosa without,
who listened, heard them.
“ Open the door I Whoever is within there,
open quickly, or bo prepared for tho conse
quences of further refusal.”
It was not Squire Vipert’s voice.
Il was not John Gauntlet’s.
Mr. Phantom heard it, and at once recognized
It was Lord Lavering’s I
This was better.
It gave him an infinitely better chance than
if it had been tne young farmer.
“ You stand o’ this side, and I’ll stand o’
that,” whispered Lutterloh ; “and I’ll nfr the
bar, so that the next time they press against
the door, they’ll come tumbling in. Tuen a
stab and the touch of a trigger will do tne
“Tobe sure, the touch of a trigger!” re
sponded Mr. Phantom, nerving himself for the
desperate deed he meditated.
“Are you ready?”
Lutterloh stooped to lift the bolt, but a slight
noise behind him caught his vigilant ear, and,
turning about swift.y, he caught Mr. Phantom
in the act of taking aim.
In an instant, however, his arm dropped.
“I—l—am ready, quite ready,” said Phan
tom, in a fright, “undo the bar, man, quick.”
Lutterloh stood regarding him for several
seconds with an expression of count, nance
tnar is indescribable.
“You look like a man who is ready,” said he;
“ why, you are quaking like a partridge under
a hawk. You want a stimul nt. It’s lucky
that there’s a drink of brandy left in the bottle.
Put the pistol down a minute, and reach it
down off tne dresser.’?
Afraid for his life to disobey, and being not
at all averse to a drop of the fiery liquid to sus- -
tain bis courage, Phantom d.d as he was de
But, as he turned his back, Lutterloh swiftly
withdrew from his pocket a little packet.
That which the evening before had unsus
pcctedly dropped from Mr. Phantom’s pocket
book, and was secured unobserved by the
cunning gipsy.
He swiftly undid tho folds of the packet, and
hold it open in the hollow of his hand.
“ Give it here,” said he, stretching out his
other hand towards the bottle. “ I’ll have firat
drink, and leave you the rest.”
Before be handed it back, however, ho dex
terously slipped into tne black bottle the
powder out of the paper.
All unsuspiciously, Mr. Phantom gulped
down the contents of tne bottle to tho last
“ That’s nice ! That’s invigorating ! ” he ex
claimed, with savage satisfaction, as he re
possessed himself of the pistol. •* Now, I shan’t
flinch, bold Lutterloh 1 Unbar the door. Quick,'
before I ”
Lutterloh made no move towards unbarring
the door.
With the same devolish expression of counte
nance as before mentioned, hie stood regarding
his victim.
“Before you what? Speak up. You ain’t
drunk, you know, and it’s no use your sham
ming it I” said he, with a villanous grin.
Mr. Phantom looked like a drunken man, at
all events.
His white face flushed purple, his hair reeked
with sudden sweat, and be seemed to be fast
loosing power over the muscles of his mouth.
“ I—l don’t know,” he faltered, staring be
fore Yiim wildly; “it was such a little drop that
it couid not have overcome—have overcome—l
don’t understand ”
And bis falling knees compelled him to sink
down into a chair, the loaded pistol falling
idly from his hand.
“ P’r’aps I can help you to understand,” cried
Lutterloh, his swarthy face lairlv alight with
develish glee. “Can you read? Can you read
any think in a paper wot ain’t got no reading
on it ? Can you read this ?
And as the savage ruffian spoke, he impaled
the feta? that hail contained the while
powder on tho point oi his claps knife, and held
it within a few inches of Joseph’s eyes.
The effect wasinstantan eons and terrible.
With a piercing shriek Joseph Phantom
threw up his hands.
“Ha I ha! ”»iXutterloh laughed, “ you’re a
schoiard in every lesson wot may be learnt in
the devil’s school, read it • read it out and tell
•a hignorant man wot it ses.”
“ Poisoned ! poisoned! poisoned 1” shrieked
Joseph Phantom, slipping from the chair and
writhing on the fioor. “ Oh, curse you, curse
you! Help without there! Break the door!
Burs it in !• He shall not escape—thus shall—”
And in his agonized writhing his hand en
countered the fallen pistol, and he would have
grasped it had not Lutterloh stamped it out of
his weakening hand with his heavy foot.
Then he made ;for the door, which, at that
moment was violently burst in, and Mr. Vipert,
with Layering, rushed into the room.
They passed by the gipsy standing close by
the wall, and hastened to Mr. Phantom, who,
roused sufficiently to raise himself on his
while the Master of Monkshood leant over him.
But it was too late for aid now.
All that Phantom could do was to fix his fast
glazing eyes on Lutterloh, and, as he pointed
at him with his extended finger, feebly gasp
the single word—“ Poisoned I ”
But ere the two gentlemen could take any
action towards securing the murderer, he had
cleared , the threshold .ata bound, and was off
and away.
When Reginald Vipert and Lord Layering
looked down again, all that remained of subtle
wily Joseph Phantom, was his distorted and
huddled-up dead bodyl
LTo be continued.]
Nearly everybody thinks he.ean tell a story,
yet nearly everybody tells a story when he says
ho cannot. Story-telling is one of the rarest
accomplishments. Ninety-nine men out of
every hundred who attempt a story bore their
hearers. And the hundredth man is just bare
ly endurable.
As story-telling is generally conducted un
der our imperfect civilization, we are not en
tertained at all, and, therefore, under no ob
ligation. It is the narrator whom we oblige
by listening—when we are obliged io.
Wo have heard a thousand mon attempt to
tell stones, in our brief wrestle with the world,
the.Hesh, &c., yet we know but two good story
tellers. The remaining nine hundred and
ninety-eight thought they conld tell a story,
but the trouble was, no one else coincided with
Or all bores, the story-telling bore is the
worst. Under the guise of entertaining, he
subjects you to the very refinement of torture.
We have heard all his stones a hundred times,
and could probably tell them better than he.
He pounces down upon you at all times and in
all places. No use to plead urgent business or
other engagements. He seizes you by the col
lar on the street, or pegs you up in the corner
of a room, and you must hear it, whether you
will or no.
A few years ago, a society was formed in New
York for the suppression of story-tellers. Ar
temus Ward, Ban Bryant, Billy Florence, and
men of that ilk, constituted the active mem
bers. Their plan was, when a man commenced
a story, to get up and saunter away one at a
time, leaving the unhappy man to complete
his narration to the chairs and other articles
of furniture.
• One day Ban Bryant so far forgot himself as
to begin a story, forcibly brought to his recol
lection by some incident of the occasion. Ward
got up and sauntered out, whistling a low,
melancholy air.
One by one the remainder followed suit, with
troubled looks and a sad shake of the head,
sometimes sighing deeply. By the time Dan
had reached the middle of Ins story he was
alone. As the last man passed out, Dan
turned to a picture of George Washington,
hanging on the wall, and remarking, “Here,
old fellow, you’ve got to hear the rest of this
story; I’d like to see you get down and walk off
on your ear,” completed his narrative, the Fa
ther of his Country and Governor Posey, of
Indiana, listening to him with that calmi be
nignity so characteristic of them. It is need
less to say, the story extinguishers, who were
listening outside, enjoyed this part of the yarn
at least.
Speaking of Washington, he couldn’t tell a
story, and was ready to acknowledge it. He
told his father ho couldn’t, when a little boy,
although as things then looked, a story would
have let him out. It is a pity there are not
more people ready to say, with Washington,
“I cannot tell a story,” and .never try it.
peppSeT eyes.
A. Taayis Adventure—Tlie Fate of an
GIA Dover—Kow Peace was Brought
About In a Divided House.
The Fourteenth Ward, Pittsburgh, was the
scene, a few days gjjnce, of a rather interesting
adventure to those who witnessed it. The
facts of the case are about as follows : Some
years since, a very handsome and well educat
ed young lady became attached to one of our
well Known business men, and in due course of
time they were married.
Among those who bad been paying attention
to the lady was a young man of tnis city, who
is very well known in certain circles. ' Since
the lady’s marriage, the individual referred to
has frequently met her and insisted upon talk
ing to her. Did he meet her on the street, he
would gracefully lift his hat and take his
place by her side, accompany her to church, to
market, and on shopping excursions, notwith
standing the fact that she had frequently re
quested him not to recognize her, save in the
presence of her husband. To this request he
paid no attention, and eventually his officious
ness came to the ears of the lady’s husband.
The latter put a very different construction
upon the actions of the couple to what they
really were, and the information led to a do
mestic scene of a very disagreeable nature.
The lady in the case, faithful to her husband,
determined to bring matters to a satisfactory
conclusion, and having exhausted all the ef
forts toward entreating her old lover to pass
her by, determined to end the business in a
summary manner. For this purpose, the lady
armed herself with a package of Cayenne pep
per, and for several days, thus equipped, she
took her usual tours throughout the city, de
termined, if again insulted by her old lover,
that she would, if possible, put a stop to his
impertinence. As fate would have it, the fel
low met the lady yesterday, and renewed his
familiarities. The lady requested him to leave
her, but he was not to be shaken, and the re
sult was that the lady suddenly threw the
package of pepper in the eyes of her shadow.
As may be imagined, ho succeeded in a short
time m creating a sensation, as well as draw
ing a large crowd, while in the midst of the
confusion the lady withdrew and returned to
her home. When tae matter came to be un
derstood, the verdict of tiie people was “served
him right.” It is not likely that the “persist
ent lover” will interfere again, or renew his at
tention to the iady. When the matter camo to
the ears of the lady’s husband, he confessed
himself greatly pleased at the result, and
acknowledged that his suspicions oi his wife’s
unfaithfulness were entirely groundless, and
peace again reigns m a heretofore unhappy
A iiusbTwFstrategy.
A man named Shuman, residing in South
Baltimore, has of late entertained an idea that
his wile does not love him with that ardor
which should characterize a wife for her hus
band, and in order to test her affection for him
he penned a note to her, m which he stated that
he had insured his life for $2,000, and that she
’could collect the insurance when he had ceased
to live, which event would transpire ere she
read the note, as he intended to drown himself
in the Spring Gardens at Ferry Bar bridge. The
letter was handed to a small boy with a re
quest that he deliver it into the hands of Mrs.
Shuman, but the boy mistaking the directions
given him, left the note with a iriend of Mrs.
Shuman. The friend read the note, and
naturally supposing the suicide was premedi
tated by Shuman, she called Policeman Bant
ing and imparted to him her suspicions. The
policeman instantly started for Ferry Bar, and
when near that structure discovered Shuman
walking leisurely toward the water. The offi
cer cahed to Shuman to halt for a moment, but
instead of complying with the request he ran
upon the bridge, where he calmly awaited the
coming of the officer, who, without entering
into a conversation, conducted Shuman to the
station-house, and on the way there the sup
posed would-be suicide and his preserver were
followed by a large crowd of adults and chil
dren wno had heard of the contents of the let
ter, and which had been promulgated by the
lauy who received it. Shuman, after being
taken to the station-house, explained that ho
na 1 no intention of drowning himself, but that
he had sent the note to his wife tor the purpose
of ascertaining how she would bo affected by
the newt. Captain Deianty therefore ordered
his release. Alter quitting the station-house
Shuman returned to his home, expecting to
find his wife m hysterics, but was disappointed.
On the contrary she was as composed as a per
son conld be, and appeared surprised that her
husband had not drowned himself, as ho had
promised ho would do.
an~uprigTit judge.
An incident in the career of Hon. Thomas
B. Monroe, who ior over twenty-five years
occupied the position of Federal judge in Ken
tucky, will illustrate the high purity of his
character, and may serve to remind the judici
ary of our day how conscientiously judges of
the olden time held the scales of justice.
A student in the judge’s law scaooi one day
asked him if, in deciding a case, he ever feit
any bias or prejudice for or against the parties.
The judge promptly said :
“Sever but once; I’ll tell you the story.
There was an important case, which was
argued with great ability before me by the
most distinguished lawyers at the bar of
it took two weeks trial.
Every morning as the court opened, a little
woman, dressed in black, modestly and un
assumingly came into court, ns if unseen and
took her seat near the door.
“Just before the court adjourned, she re
tired, but not without making a courtesy. It
attracted my attention, and I inquired who she
was. I was told that she was a party to the
suit then on trial. When the cause was sub
mitted, and I was preparing my opinion, I
found it impossible to dismiss from my mind
theflittle woman and her courtesy. I began to
doubt whether I could do justice in the case.
I studied the matter very closely, and finally
decided in her favor. It involved the title of
all she possessed in the world. I never,” said
tho old judge, “was entirely satisfied that my
decision was correct, until it was finally unani
mously affirmed by tho Supreme Court of the
United States. I feared my judgment had
been warped by the simplicity and delicacy of
a little woman in black?’
A Man Marries Bls Former NV If e After
Twenty-six Xearsi Separation.
The Mount Pleasant, lowa, Journal says:
“If we were a machine for spinning roman
tic yarns, now would be our chance, ior wo have
an item out of which any literary caterer could
make a dish that would suit tho most ardent
lovers of romance. But wo are no chap for
fiction. Wo were borne to ‘ tell the truth and
shame tho d ’ emocratio party, and we do it
in plain and unvarnished words. What we
shall write comes to us from reliable parties
who are residents of Salem. Well, to begin,
we will take you by tho nape of the neck and
lift you back over twenty-six years of timo and
land you down in tho beautiful city of Salem,
which then, as now, was peopled with some of
tho best families of lowa. Here resided the
family of James McWhorter, and James and
his wife resided as happily together as two
people with a couple of big hearts full of love
could live. Everything was lovely and happy.
After a while there came the news of gold dis
coveries in California, and stories of how men
could find fortunes by just going alter them.
Like all mortal men, James McWhorter liked
‘spondulicks,’ and hearing these stories from
the Golden State he believed them, and de
cided to bid adieu to his wife for a short time,
go forth, fill his pockets with the glittering
metal, and then return to his Rebecca and
dwell together until death did them part.
“ The farewell was said, and the loving wife
and husband parted. McWhorter went to Cal
ifornia". The hearts of the twain were true to
each other, and letters came and went as fast
as Uncle Sam’s carriers could take them. As
the novel writers say, ‘ time wore on apace
the weeks walked off into months, and the
months galloped into years, and, era the story
comes to us, James McWhorter and his wife
were separated by the willful and malicious ly
ing and misrepresentations of evil-doers.
Word was sent back to the wife that her hus
band was the husband of another. Of course
this fell upon the love-warmed heart like a
bucket of iec-water. Letters ceased to go to
and from ; the separation became apparently
permanebt, and wound up with a divorce. Mrs.
McWhorter, in time, became Mrs. Abbott, and,
after a time, her husband died, leaving her a
widow. Some two years ago a gentleman came
from California, direct horn where Mr. Mc-
Whorter resided, and he denied all tho reports
that had been circulated concerning that gen
tleman, reporting him to be an honorable and
upright man, doing well and prospering in
worldly matters. After his return to Califor
nia was commenced, letters bearing words of
love again commenced to pass to and fro, and
one day lasfweek James McWhorter and Re
becca Abbott were again joined in the holy
bonds of wedlock. This is the story as it camo
to us.”
As the Chicago express train, on Wednesday
morning, the 17th instant, was thundering
along between Utica and Rome, at the rate of
forty miles an hour, a singular case of som
nambulism occurred. A young man named
William H. Walton, of Kingston, Ulster coun
ty, in company with Deputy Sheriff' Kerr, left
that place on Tuesday morning, on their way
to Albany in pursuit of a fugitive from justice.
Between Utica and Rome, Walton had a
strange dream, the burden of which was that
the engineer had left his locomotive, and that
the tram was doomed to certain destruction.
He arose from his seat, terror-stricken, the
most abject fear depicted in his countenance,
and, to the utter amazement and bewilder
ment of the passengers, who thought him an
escaped lunatic, rushed to the platform, call
ing to his friend, who was still asleep, to fol
low, and jumped from tho train.
The passengers ran to the doors and win
dows, and shuddered as they saw the body of
Walton strike the ground, and roll over on the
other track. The passengers requested the
conductor to stop the train, but he would not,
saying that “the man must be dead, and it
would do no good.”
Arriving at Rome, Kerr stopped aboard a
freight train, and went in search of his unfor
tunate friend. About half way between Rome
and Utica, the engineer discovered the body of
Walton lying on the track, and had just time
to prevent his train from passing over him.
Upon reaching Walton, they found that he was
still alive, but insensible. In a few hours, he
revived, and told the strange story of his
dream. After a close examination, it was
found that although badly bruised about the
head, shoulders, and hips, no bones were
broken, and he will recover.
Mysterious Appearance in Canan
dAiGUA.—The Canandaigua (N. Y.) Messenger, of May
10, rebates the ioilowing ghostly mystery: A gentle
man and his wife, residing in a quiet locality in our
town, having no one else beside themselves in their
cottage, have for weeks past been the recipients of a
strange, mysterious visitation. The first intimation
of f he presence of this thing, whatever it may be,
wis about a month since. While sealed in thejr par
lor, reading, they became conscious of a sensation
similar to that felt when a current of cold air sweeps
through a room, which was followed by the appear
ance of a misty figure, perfect'y transparent, yet
cleary perce, tible, having something of the likeness
of a woman, clothed in long, loose garments. No
distinct features were observable, and no accurate
description could be written. This figure, appari
tion, ghost, or whatever you may choose to call it,
glided about the apartment, passing between the
occupants, and between them and the fire, several
times, and disappeared with the same rush of chill
ness with which it appeared. Since that time it has
become a regular visitor to the house, and is some
times accomi aned with a low, unearthly sound, like
tne unreal echo of a dead melody. Several persons,
ocher than those in whose house it appears, have
witnessed this strange phenomenon, and all are un
able to a count lor it on any rational grounds. One
of the gentlemen who witnessed the strange affair
one evening last week, relates that when he returned
home that night he was accompanied by something.
What it was he cannot tell; although invisible, it
was tangible. The footsteps were plainly heard,
sometimes by the side, and sometimes in front of
him, and they only left him when ha reached the
door oi his house.
Not a Parallel Case. —On one of
the marches of the Army of tho Potomac through
Virginia, the horse oi a well known chaplain of a
New York regiment “ p>ayed out,” and was left at
the side of the road, soon after which tho dominie
espied a fine looaing animal grazing in a field near
the road. It required but a few minutes’ time to
transfer the saddle, etc., to his back, and mounting
him, he was riding out on to tho road, when he met
a United States quartermaster, when the following
colloquy ensued:
“Where are you going with that horse ?*'*
“Go.ng with him ? Why, I’m going to ride him,
of course,” said the chaplain.
“ But you don’t mean to say that you’re going to
steal him, do you?”
“Certainly not; but my horse has given out, and
we are in the enemy’s country, and ”
“ Oh, that’s very well,’but my duty as an A. Q. M.
compels me to take possession of him; beside, I
don’t think it looks very well for a to be
stealing a horse, if his own has given out.”
“ But, my dear sir,” said the chaplain, “ don’t you
remember that on a certain occasion our Saviour
commanded one of his disciples to saddle and bring
him an ass, that he might ride into Jerusalem ?”
“ Yes, I know all about that, but this isn’t a paral
lel case, sir; you ain’t our Saviour, we’re not going
to Jerusalem, and that animal ain’t a jackass; so
you can get right down off his back just as quick as
you pease.”
Tlie argument of the quartermaster was too pow
erful, and an unconditional surrender of the horse
was at once made, the poor parson having to jog
along on foot as best he might.
The Hero of “ Lothair. ” —The
Catholic heio oi “Lothair,” the young Marquis of
Bute, although admitted to bo the greatest “catch,”
matrimonial y speaking, in Great Britain, and one
of the laigest land owners in the realm, has never
yet made his respects to the Queen at court. This
singular circcumstance is now accounted fur by the
Court Journal, which states that the young Marquis
promised his mother on her deathbed never to per
mit himself to be presented to Queen Victoria. The
reason of this extraordinary promise which the Mar
quis has religiously kept, is to be found in the im
placable hostitity of the Marchioness to the Queen.
The late Marchioness of Bute was the sister of Lady
Flora Hastings, the young and beautiful maid of
honor, whom Queen Victoria, then a girl of eigtheen,
suffered soon after her accession to the throne to be
driven from her presence, and hunted to death by
slanders long Since disproved. The cold and cruel
canduct of the young sovereign at that time the fam
ily of tho victim have never forgotten or forgiven.
When the Queen some years ago visited Rotnesay
Bay in her yacht, and lay for several days in sight of
the suuerb residence of the Marchioness of Bute,
Mount Stuart House, the Marchioness not only re
frained from attempting to pay her court to the
Queen, but actua.ly ordered all the bl nd s of the
windows in Mount Stuart House to be kept closed so
long as the royal yacht lay within sight of them.
Time has not soitened in the son tho bitter sense of
injustice which hardened the mother’s heart. It is
even said that horror at the notion of being obliged,
to consider Queen Vi toria the head of his church
plays no small part in inducing the Marquis of Bute
to al andon that church for the communion of Rome.
The “ Aire.”—A -writer in the Over
land Monthly gives the following interesting descrip
tion oi what the people oi Buonos Ayres can the aire:
—He was silting with the American proprietor of a
quinta, one warm noon-time, with doors and windows
all open, and sipping a g.ass of wine, when he ex
per enced a sudden but not unp;easant sensation,
like a quick, light chill, which lasted not longer than
a quarter via second, At tmj game lime a shorn
Sunday Edition. May 28
click rroceeded from the bottle and wine glasses, air
if they had been lightly rapped by some small object,-
“ 1 hat’s the aire."
“ What’s the aire ?’*' asked the guest. j
«If you attempt to lift tho bottle,” said the both
you will find it cut in two; and you will also dis*
cover that tho glasses have shared the same fate.” i
This was found to be true. No satisfactory expla*
nation can be given of this phenomenon, but it 18
thought to be entirely electrical. If a dog or othec
animal should happen to be heated at the time if
comes in contact with the aire, it is instantly fixed
in its then position. If a dog is about to scratch his
ear, his hind leg would be held rigidly as if in tha
act for several successive days. Mankind are not
wholly exempt from its influences, and people whq
have been caught in that position by the aire, ar®
frequently seen with their heads turned half round,
as if looking over their shoulders. The effects ar©
readily reduced by pou’ticing, and have never occa
sioned serious afflictions.
The Knights of the Round Table.—
Tho legend of King Arthur and the Round Table i«
always an inviting subject for the poets; and we know
not how many have tried their hands at it with
more or less success. Mr. Tennyson has added to
his laurels largely in his “Idylls of the King,” and
Lord Lytton has followed not ignobly in the wake of
the Laureate. But we have a slight quarrel to pick
with these Arthurian singers. We hear of the good
Sir Lancelot and Galahad the pure; but where is Tom
Thumb ? From the sublime to the ridiculous i|
proverbially an easy descent; but the fact remains,
that the real, original Tom Thumb—for Mr. Stratton
is not the original Simon Pure after all, whatevej
Mr. Barnum may say to the contrary—the real, ort!
ginal Tom Thumb was an important character al
King Arthur’s Round Table. A work was printed in
the year 1630, which boars the following title:—“,Tonr
Thumb, his Life and Death: wherin is declared mans
maruailous Acts of Manhood, full of Wonder and
strange Merriments. Which little Knight lived lu
King Arthur’s time, and famous in the Court oi
Great Brittaine! ” It begins thus:— 4
In Arthur’s court, Tom Thumbs did liutk
A man of mickle mignt;
The best of all the Table Round,
And eke a doughty knight.
His stature but an inch in height,
Or quarter of a span:
Then think you not this little knignt
Was proved a valiant man ?
Sam Houston and His Picture.—
When Sam Hous.on was in Congress, he wore at on©
time a full beard, and apparently had abandoned th©
use of tho razor altogether. While his beard was at
its fullest growth, covering the greater part of his
face, and his hair long, he had his daguerreotype
taken by one of the “ professors” of the art on Penn<
sylvania avenue. It was a most excellent likeness
and made a very striking picture. Among the Sena?
tors to whom he showed it was Governor Corwin,,
then a Senator from Ohio, who thought he would
quiz the general, whose vanity he well knew. He
looked at the picture very attentively for a minute
or two, and then, with a serious face, asited Houston
what it was. He replied:
“ Don’t you see ? Look again. Perhaps you have
not had a good light”
Corwin accordingly looked at it again, more intent*
ly than ever, viewed it on all sides, turned it over,
and then said:
“ I give it up, general. Pray tell me what it is.”
Houston, not having the least idea that Corwin Wftf
quizzing him, said:
“ Why, it is my daguerreotype I ”
Corwin, giving one of his peculiar smiles, whicH
no one can describe or Imitate, exolaimed:
“ God bloss mo! I thought it wae the head oi
Fremont’s woolly horse!”
A Heartrending Incident.—A cor
respondent of an English paper relates the following
sad incident of the siege of Paris : The Breteuil bat
tery, close to tho ruins of the palace, commenced its
fire against Point du Jour, and the journals record
its triumphant success. The inhabitants of St.
Cloud, however, tell a different story. The shot has
passed over their heads incessantly, falling mostly
m the parts where a large permanent eamp is being
erected. A shell of heavy calibre flew into one of the
rooms of the hospital. The building has not been
spared in the general conflagration, and lies in ruins;
but two rooms had been cleared of rubbish, and,
with the aid of rafters and canvass, converted into a
temporary hospital for the sick. Just at tho moment
of the catastrophe, the Sister Superior and another
Sister were at tho bed of a little child when the shell
dropped through the roof and exploded. The Sister
Superior was hurled many yards away and severely
hurt, the other bitter had both her legs torn off, and
the child was so bruised and cut toy the splinters
that it died. Tho Sister is not expected to live. To
see the people walking about among the ruins, and
clearing their houses of rubbish, trying to find soma
part of their valuables, and then to hear tho sound
of these shells, fired at them by their own country*
men, must be heartrending.
Nathaniel Hawthorne's Early Life.
—At the age of eleven. Nathaniel Hawthorne accom
panied his mother and sister to a township in Maine,
which his grandfather had purchased. That, ha
said, was the happiest period of his life, and it lasted
till he was thirteen, when he was sent to school in
“I lived in Maine,” he said, “like a bird of th®
air, so perfect was the freedom I enjoyed. But it
was there I first got my cursed habits of solitude.”
During the moonlight nights of Winter, he would
skate until midnight, all alohe, upon Sebago Lake,
with the deep shadows of the icy hills on eitbefi
hand. When ho found himself far away from hifj
home, arid weary w.th the exertion of skating, ha
would sometimes take re.uge in a log cabin, whera
half a tree would be burning on the broad hearth.
fie wouid sit in the ample chimney and look at tha
stars through tho great aperture through which the
flame went roaring up.
“Ah!” he said, “how well I recall the Summei
days also, when, with my gun, I roamed at will
through the woods of Maine. How sad middle life
looks to people of erratic temperaments. Every,
thing is beautiful in youth, for all things are allowed
to it then.”
On the Order of the Heathen
Chinee.— A few days ago, says the West Baton Rouge
Sugar Planter, on,the tine steamer Pargoud, while on
a downward tri , a party of four gentlemen were en
gaged in asocial game of “poker” in the barber
shop. They seemed to be friends, and no doubt
they were, as their familiarity was not of a character
to induce a contrary belief. Bet ting did not run very
high, even on the best hands, although the spirit ot
the game was certainly carried out in good earnest.
After an hour or two oi the sport, one gentleman
thought he held a hand hard to beat, and went all
his caips and spare change against his only adver
sary, the others having “ passed out.” After some
chaffing and beating about, the adversary “saw his
pile” and “calied.” Imagine the astonishment of
the players and by-standers when the gentleman
threw down his hand, exclaiming:
“ Three pairs ! ’
“ Who the h—l ever heard of three pairs in poker ?’•
roared the adversary, much excited. “ Well, if yoq
have got three pairs, I can beat it,” continued be,
“ Beat it! How ?” said the other players.
“Why, thusly,” and he threw down tive sixes.
Fortunately, the table and a fair division of tha
• “ chips” prevented a repetition of the scene between
Bill Nye and that heathen Chinee.
A Female Suffragist on a High
Horse. —Mis. M. G. Brown delivered a lecture
Alexandria, Va., a few days since, in which she said:
Eve was taken from the oosom of man; the devil
soon took possession of Eve, and caused her to bring
forth Cain. After he was born she awoke to her sir:
and then brought rorth Abel. What the devil delights
in was the b.rth oi children. He first secures tha
mother, and she transmits her sms to the child.
Woman had been since the world began, a prey to
the lusts of men, and been murdered and brutally
treated. Itwou dnotbe so much longer. Woman
would be taken from man. He would no longer have
her to attend to and minister unto him. The birth
of children would soon end. God was coming; chi!«
dren would be born but God would sow the seed.
She was disgusted at the meanness of men—button*
ing up their pockets and swearing to their wives that
they had not a cent—not allowing them enough mo
ney even to get a new bonnet. That was the causa
of so much stealing in ihe world. Mothers had to
steal money to provide clothes for the coming infant,
and consequently the vice was transmitted to tha
child. She never allowed any man to keep her purse.
A Woman Bewitched.—ln one of
the cells of the parish prison, s ,ys tho New Orleans
Picayune, is a colored woman charged with
ping a child. The gravity of the offense, and th©
dangerous character of tne woman, make her con
finement severer than usual. Whether it is this, oj?
distress of mind, or some organic disease, she baa
lately been afflicted with convulsions. The fearful
contraction of the muscles, and the bloodshot eyes,
the set teeth, and the poignant groans of the poop
sufferer are something terrible. To the supersti
tious minds of the col red people in tho same part
of the jail, these violent symptoms have but onq
meaning. “ She’s bewitched,” they say. He would
ea good reasoner who could convince them other*
wise. Anxious to know upon what grounds the idea
of sorcery was based, the reporter asked one of the
women why she thought so.
“Why,” said she, “she opened her mouth tha.
other day and a dbg ran out of it. She’s all the time
spitting pins; awd she sees the devil every nigat.”
This was certainly conclusive evidence, as far as it
went, and conceding the facts stated, the woman was
undoubtedly bewitched.
The Schoolgirl's Revolt. —A sin
gular revolt broke out recently in the public school
for little girls—Rue St. Jacques, Paris—until now
kept by Sisters of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul..
The pupils, on arriving, foun 1 that their usual teach
ers had been expelled by the Commune, and replaced
by a lay mistress and two assistants. All the exter«
nal signs of the Catholic religion had been removed,
and the only decoration to be seen was a red flag.
The girls, on recovering from their surprise, refused
to listen to the new comer*, and cried out in chorus;
“ Give us back the Sisters I”
The new directress endeavored to reduce them to
submission by scolding, but the oldest girls—thoso
from eight to twelve years of age—upset the forms,
and threw the books and slates about the room.
The classes had, consequently, to be broken up. A
similar scene occurred on the following day, and
order has been only since restored by the abstention
of nearly five-sixths of the puoils, the number of
those who attended having become reduced fron»
350 to 60.
Southern Laziness. —The stranger,
visiting the South, is particularly impressed with
the vast wealth of a country that can support in idle
ness so large a portion of its male inhabitants. Two
thirds of our citizens are only nominally employed,
and, nnder a pure pretense of employment, manage
to pass their time in complete indolence. This will
apply to whites as well as colored. There are num
bers, both classes, out of work and money, and yeft
who will not work. Oller a negro a dollar to cut up
a cord of wood, and he has not time—be has some
thing to do for somebody else; yet that something i&
not done. Offer a job to a white man, and the chances
are, ten to one, a shot from a pistol, or a thrust from
a bowie knife. Of the two, the negro is the only on©
ashamed oi his laziness, for he excuses himself, but
the white man is insulted. Yet neither of them ha®
seen a dollar for a week, perhaps, and both are lyin®
around a dram-shop wailing to be asked to drink by„
some acquaintance who has a few dimes,— GoodmcM
(Miss.) Central Star.
Experiences of a Diver. —A Missis*
sippi diver, whose business it is to rumage about
among the wrecks at ihe bottom of that stream, re<
lates some of his disagreeable experiences. Hi®
work has to ba done in total darkness. The sun<;
light cannot penetrate the turbid water, and no ar<
titicial light can be used. The diver has to feet;
about with bare bands, which are in constant dan
ger of contact with unpleasant things. “Divers,’**
he says, “ always shun a cornse, knowing that th®
touch is deadly poison to them with their hand®
softened by the w».ter. He complains bitterly of a
way the large fish and turtle have of running foul of
his legs, keeping them bruised and sorQ by tbeir

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