LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1043, 29 October 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

TWELVE O'CLOCK NOON. (Concluded.) He started and, I thought, turned a little pale at my story; but quickly recovering himself, he answered in a kindly manner, ' I am very sorry ; I wish you had consulted me first. But, however, least said on such a subject as this is soonest mended. I shall not persuade you to stay in the town after what has occurred ; but for all that, you can undertake for me the business on which I have called. T have often regretted that I have hitherto been unable to help you in your business; but at length I can put somethiDg in your way, by which you can easily make a hundred or so.' * It's like my luck,' I answered. ' If this had only come a month ago ! H owever, I will do all I can to help you, doctor, and thank you over and over again for all your kLidnesstome. 1 We shook hands sympathetically, and then the doctor told me his business. He said that a friend of his had lately died, leaving a large property, which had descended to him, he being the Only male representative of the family surviving. But he explained to me that there were several distant relations, who were far from being well off; and as the property .had come to him unexpectedly, he had decided to sell it all, and then divide the proceeds between

the poorer relations, of course taking a fair share himself.

I complimented him on his generosity, but he cut me short by saying, 'The place is situated near to C , which, as you know, is more than two hundred miles from here. What I want you to do is to go at once to 0 and make all arrangements about the sale of the property, and particularly to get a valuer to go over it with you. You shall have the deeds on your return to get the legal part of the affair ready.' Then giving me the names of some firstclass auctioneers in C , Dr. Stanton departed. Glad to do anything which might divert my thoughts from the painful subject upon which they were concentrated, I at once started for C .It was late at night when I arrived there ; and as nothing could be done then, I immediately went to bed. Next morning I called upon the auctioneers and explained my business. They could not go with me then to survey the property, but we made an arrangement for the ensuing day ; and as I did not know a soul in the place and had nothing to do, I said, if they would direct me to the house, I would go and look over it. They gave me the keys, which were in their possession ; and after a pleasant four miles' drive I reached my destination. There I drew up at a substantiallybuilt lodge. The gate was opened by an old man, who informed me, in answer to my inquiry, that there was no one in the house, i drove up a long winding carriagedrive, and at length pulled up in front of a large square old fashioned looking mansion situated in what I may almost call a dell, inasmuch as the garden and park rose up on all sides round the house and were thickly wooded with shrubs. The whole looked deserted and forlorn, and the bright hot mid-summer sun, which shone with great power and heat, seemed rather to add to the loneliness than otherwise. I placed the key in the door and with some difficulty turned it. The door swang back on its hinges with a harsh grating sound, and involuntarily I felt a horrible feeling of loneliness come over me. Almost instinctively I turned round; nothing met my eyes but the quiet country bathed in the sunshine, and then, laughing at myself for my cowardice, I entered the house and closed the door after me. It was completely furnished : but all the furniture und chandeliers were covered, and the carpets were rolled up in a corner. I wandered on from the I hall to the dining-room, then into the drawing room, my footsteps echoing through the whole building. I was making memoranda in my pocket book of things I wanted to ask the auctioneer I can remember the whole scene as thoagh it was only yesterday, and 1 swear that I had my senses fully about me. 1 looked at my watch and found it was half-past twelve; then I went up the lonely stairs and st H)d on the landing. Opposite to me was a long corridor of bedroom doors, at the end of which another passage crossed it at right angles. There was a little light in the passage I was looking down; but the other pas sage was lighted by some windows which were out of sight, so that the end of the. passage in which I was standing was brightly illuminated. No sooner had I ascended the stairs and noticed the particulars I have before mentioned, when I felt an involuntary repetition of the feeling I had experienced at the door, and by some horrible fascination my attention was fastened on the light at the end of the passage. Now is your time to laugh if you like, but I don't feel like laughing, although it all happened twenty years ago : but as I was standing in that passage, by Heaven, I saw Clwa Stanton come out of one of the bedrooms and walk down the passage! I felt my heart give one great leap into my mouth, and then it seemed to stop beating. My blood rushed all through me with a hot flush, and then I was cold as stone. I grasped the banisters for support and looked, again. There was no mistaking it. Clara Stanton was walking down the dark passage. Presently she emerged into the light part at the end, and turned her face towards me. 1 have told you that she always looked sad ; but the utter misery and wretchedness on her face at that moment, I shall never forget. Slowly she passed across the end of the passage, and then the wall hid her and she was gone. Soon my senses returned to me, and shouting 'Clara, Clara!' I ran to the bedroom door from which I had seen her come. I had expected to iind it open; but it was locked, although I know I had seen her come through it. Again the supernatural dread caught hold of me, and without a moment's thought I ran out of the house. It was hours before I recovered my equa nimity, and even then nothing would have, again pereuaded me to have anything to do with that lonely house, and so by the ne.\t train I returned to H —. The following day 1 sent a note to Dr. Stanton, and asked him to call at my office : but the messenger returned with a reply to the effect that the doctor Mas unable to come. Miss Stanton had died suddenly on the previous day. My feelings had been su wrought upon, that I can hardly say the news sm-prised me, although you may imagine my sorrow. I immediately hastened to the doctor, and found the good man in the greatest trouble. 1 told him what had happened to me, and he turned as white as a sheet. For some moments he could hardly speak. At length he managed to ask me if I recollected the time when I had seen Miss Stanton. I told him half-past twelve at noon. ' That was exactly the time she died,' he answered. Then he told me her story. The property which had descended to the doctor belonged to the young naval officer she had loved. They had known each other from childhood, and were fondly devoted. When the young man came of age they were formally engaged, and there had been great rejoicing at C amongst the tenantry. Clara had taken part in them. It had beeu arranged that her lover should go for one more voyage before they were married, and that voyage was his last; for he had been drowned, as I have before told you, and Clara had been heartbroken ever since. The doctor knew she was jll, but he had no idea how dangerously. The day she had died, and on which I saw her spirit, was the anniversary of the day on which she had heard of her lover's death. There is nothing more to tell. The doctor sold the property, but I had nothing to do with it. What it was I saw I don't know ; why I saw it I don't know ; but never you assort agaip, old man, it i* impossible for a ghpst to appear by daylight I know it is possible, because one.