LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2236, 2 June 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE MINISTER'S DREAM. (Continued.) 'Come, you are a trump,'l saw written plainly on Jack Hill's face ; and he settled himself to listen to the remainder of the ministers's story in a manner which could not be considered other than complimentary. Duly and truly I knew quite well he had already devoted the first five-guinea cheque he received to the poor of that minister's parish. 'By the road,' proceeded onr host, ' Dendeldy ia distant from here ten long mile», bat by a short cut aoross the hills it oan be reached in something under six. For me it was nothing of a walk, and accordingly I arrived at the manse ere noon.'

He paused, and, though thirty years had elapsed, drew a handkerchief across his forehead ere he continued his narrative.

' I had to climb a steep brae to reach the front door, but ere I could breast it my friend met me.

'Thank God you aro come,' he said, pressing my hand in his. ' Oh, lam gratefu!.'

'He was trembling'with excitement. His face was of a ghastly pallor. His voice was that of a person suffering from some terrible shook, laboring under some awful fear.

'" What has happened, Edwsrd ?' I asked. I had known him when he was_ a little boy. 'I am distressed to see you in such a Btate. Rouse yourself; be a man; whatever may have gone wrong can possibly be righted. I have come over to do all that lies in my power for you. If it is a matter of money ' — * "No, no; it is not money,' he interrupted ; ' would that it were I' and he began to tremble again so violently that re illy he communicated some part of his nervousness to me, and pnt me into a state of perfect terror. ' " Whatever it ia, Oawley, out with it,' I said ; ' have you murdered anybody ? ' ' "No, it is worse than that,' he an swered. • ''Bat that's just nonsense,'l declared. ' Are you in your right mind, do you think ?' "'I wish I were not,' he returned. 'l'd like to know I was stark, staring mad ; it would be happier for me—far, far happier.' 'lf you don't tell me this minute what ia the matter I shall turn on my heel and tramp my way home again.' I said, in passion, for what I thought his folly angered me. ' Come into the house,' he entreated, 'and try to have patience with me; for indeed, Mr Morrison, lam sorely troubled. I have been through the deep waters, and they have gone clean over my head.' We went into his little study and sat down. For a while he remained silent, his head resting upon his hand, struggling with some strong emotion ; but after about five minutes he asked in a low subdued voice—

' Do you believe in dreams ?' ' What has my belief to do with the matter in hand ?' I inquired. 'lt is a dream, an awful dream, that is troubling me.' I rose from my chair. ' Do you mean to'say,' I asked,' ' you have brought me from my business and parish to tell me you have had a bad dream ?'

' Th»t is just what I do mean to say,' he answered. 'At least it was not a dream—it was a vision; no, I don't mean a vision. I can't tell you what it was; but nothing I ever went through in actual life waa half so real, and I have bound myself to go through it all again. There is no hope for me, Mr Morison. I sit before you a lost creature, the moat miserable man on the face of the whole earth.'

' What did you dream ?' I inquired. A. dreadful fit of trembling again seized him; but at least he managed to say, '"I have been like this ever Bince, and I shall be like this forever more, till—till—the end comes." '

' When did you have your bad dream ? ' I asked.

'"Last night, or, rather, this morning,"' he answered. ' "I'll tell you all about it in a minute ;" ' and he covered bis face with his hands again.

' I was as well when I went to bed, about 11 o'clock, as ever I was in my life,' he began, patting a great restraint upon himself, as I could see by the nervous way he kept knotting and unkuotting his fingers. 'I had been considering my sermon, and felt satisfied I should be able to deliver a good one on Sunday morning. I had taken nothing after my tea, and I lay down in my bed feeling at peace with all mankind, blessings vouchsafed to me. How long I slept, or what I dreamt about at first, if I dreamt at all, I don't know; but after a time the mists seemed to clear from before my eyes, to roll away like clouds from a mountain summit, and I fonnd myself walking on a beautiful summer's evening beside the river Deldy. * He paused for a moment, and an* irrepres* sible shudder shook his frame.

' "Go on," I said, for I felt afraid of his breaking down again. ' He looked at me pitifully, with a hungry entreaty in his weary eyes, and continued—- '" It was a lovely evening. I had never thought the earth so beautiful before. A gentle breeze just touched my cheek, the water flowed on clear and bright, the mountains in the distance looked bright and glowing, covered with purple heather. I walked on and on till I came to that point where, as yon may perhaps remember, the path, growing very narrow, winds round the loose ox a great crag and leads the wayfarer suddenly Into a little green amphitheatre, bounded on one side by the river and on the other by rocks that rise in places sheer to a height of a hundred feet and more." '"I remember it," I said; "a little farther on three streams meet and fall with a tremendous roar into the Witches' Cauldron. A fine sight in the winter time, only that there is scarce any reaohing it from below, as the path you mention and the little green oasis are mostly covered with water."

' " I had not been there before since I was a child," he went on monrnf ully, '' but I recollected it as one of the most solitary spots possible, and my astonishment was great to see a man standing in the pathway with a drawn sword in his hand. He did not stir as I drew near, so I stepped aside on grass. Instantly he barred my way. * " You can't pass here," he said. • << why not?" I asked.

' "Because I say so," he answered. ' " And who are you that say bo ?" I inquired, looking full at him. ' '• He was like a god. Majesty and power were written on every feature, were exposed on every feature; but oh, the awful scorn of his smile, the contempt with which he regarded me ! The beams of the setting sun fell upon him, and seemed to bring out as in letters of fire the wickedness, and hate, and stn, that underlay the glorious and terrible beauty of his face. '" I felt afraid, but I managed to say '" Stand ont of my way ; the river bank is as free to me as to you." ' " Not this part of It,' he answered; " thiß place belongs to me." • Very well,' I agreed, for I did not want to stand there bandying words with him, and a sudden darkness seemed to be falling around. 'lt is getting late, and so I'll e'en turn back.'

'He gave a laugh, the like of which never fell on human ear before, and made rsply—- ' •' Come closer, and I will tell you,' he said.'

' I did not speak ; I only turned around, and made as fast as I could for the narrow path at the foot of the crag. He did not pass me, yet before I could reach the point I desired he stood barring the way, with the scornful smile still on his lips, and his gigantic form assuming tremendous proportions in the narrow way, ' "Let me pass,' I entreated, 'and I will never come here again, never trespass more on your ground.' ' "No, you shall not psss. ' " Vfjio are you that takes such power on thyself ?' I asked. ''' Come closer, and I will tell you,' he said.

'I drew a stop nearer, and be spoke one word. I nave never heard it before, bat I knew what it meant by some extraordinary ntuition. He was the JEvil One ; the name earned to bo taken up by the eohoes and repeated from rook to rock and crag to crag ; the whole air seemed full of that one word ; and then a'great horror of darkness came about an, only the place where we stood remained light. We occupied a small circle

walled round with a thick darkness of night. ' " You mnst come with me," he said. 'I refused; and then he threatened me. I Implored, and entreated and wept; but at last I agreed to do what he wanted if he would promise to let mo return. Again he laughed, and said, Yes, I should return ; and the rocks and treea and mountains, ay. and the very rivers, seemed to take up the answer and bear it in sobbing whispers away into the darkness.' . He stopped and lay baok in his chair, shivering like one in an ague fit. 'Go on,' I repeated again; ' 'twas but a dream, you know.' 'Was it?' he murmured mournfully. 'Ah, you have not heard the end of it yet.' ' Let me hear it, then,' I said, ' What happened afterwards ? ' 'The darkness seemed in part to clear away, and we walked side by side across the sward in the tender twilight straight up to the bare black wall of rook, With the hilt of his sword he struck a heavy blow, and the solid rock opened as though it were a door. We passed through, and It closed behind us with a tremendous clang ; yes, it closed behind us, and at that point he fairly broke down, crying and sobbing as I had never seen a man even in the most frightful grief cry and sob before.' The minister paused in his narrative. At that moment there came a most tremendous blast of wind, whloh shook the windows of the manse and burst open the hall door, and caused the candles to flicker and the fire to go roaring up the chimney. It is not too much to say that, what with the uncanny story, and what with the howling storm, we everyone felt that creeping sort of uneasiness which so often seems like the touch of something from another world—a hand stretched across the boundary line of time and eternity, the coldness and mystery of which make the stoutest heart tremble. (To he continued.)