LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2613, 22 August 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE LEGEND OF GORIB GRANGE

(Continued,)

The bad was tome distance from the wall, a fact which I thought might be attributable to the skirting board, which projcted. I examined the old carving upon the bedstead, and acknowledged it to be beautiful. Still somehow, I wished it out of the room for I surely it had seen the deed of blood which bad been committed there. It was the only witness left, but there it etrod, silent and sombre, as though the scene was nnf jrgotten which had taken place so long ago—so long ago. I had no desire to hasten to bed. It reminded me of a large plumed hearse. But my candles were burning low, and there was nothing for it but to hurry between the sheets. Onre, there, sleep soon fell upon me and thought was obliterated. How long I slept I know not, but suddenly a sensation of horror overcame me. I felt as though I were chained to the spot, spell-bound, unable to move band or foot. The moon was shining with a cold white light into the room ! it fell upon the lower curta na of my bed, making them seem like spectres. It gleamed with an unearthly whiten lbs across the bed Itself, and from thence across the room, glancing upon the white panels of the door; I was constrained to follow its course, and observe upon what it shone. Nothing but the door; I could see its gilt beading". Nothing but the door. Still it had b horrible fascination for me, and I watched it, though I strove with all my might te look away, I could not. All_ my senses were centred upon it; it enchained me—it drew me. By degrees I sat up, my eyes rlvetted upon it. Great heaven ! was it my fancy ! was I going mad ? It opened—slowly; how slowly and stealthily 1 . . I was in an agony. I clutched at the bed clothes with my clammy, death cold hands ; great drops of sweat broke out upon my brow. The moon shone in, white and more coldly than ever, and from behind the door cautiously there peered in—the face of a blaikman. He rolled his large dark eyes around the room, and the moon shimmered upon them as they turned round and rourd in their sockets, and at last fastened tbemse’vos on me with a demoniac glare. Never have I suffered as at that moment. I strove to scream—it was in vain; my tongue clave to the roof of my month. I could utter no soond. His hand crept ronnd the door, and, gleaming there in tbe moonlight with a cruel flash, 1 saw a long slender knife. Still I canid not speak. He entered the room ; a large powerful negro, H© turned his back to me, and noiselessly closed the door. I made a superhuman effort; I struggled to free myself from the fearful terror which rendered me powerless to save my life. I sprang from the bod, thanking God there was room for me behind it, and my awful visitor advanced in the moo alight as I crept yet closer against the wall. I could see him between the curtains. He had not noticed that I had deserted the bed. He stood beside it, and a cru.l laugh broke from him ; his white ferocious teeth glistening like those of a wild heist. His eye balls seemed to emit fire. Wi;h a devilish chuckle he raised his knife, and brought it down suddenly into the shadow where I had lain.

A cold shiver ran through me; my teeth chattered Ini my head ; my knoeea shook under me. Nothing but my intense fear, and an instinct of self preservation, prevented me from fainting. He drew out his dagger like knife, and looked npon it, eagerly for my life blood—it was not there. He crouched like a tiger about to spring upon h a victim, ■a wild beast baulked of hi* pray ; his breath came thick and hot and furious ; it rose like steam from hia dilated nostrils, I watched him, I could not help it. I felt I must see what he was about, even if it o.st me my life. Suddenly he discovered me, and crept after mo with a cat like movement behind the bed. As he followed me I moved oa, hiding by turns behind the curtains. We both kept stopping to look where the ether was, and each time, between the curtains, I met his crnel rolling eyes and his demoniacal grin. He was gaining upon me 1 I never stayed to look at him now, and yet I could see the horrible gleam of his eyes and teeth as he rushed on tbrough the moonlight. I could feel his breath upon my neck as ha pressed after me more closely. On I sped for my life, faster, faster, faster. The whole room seemed to be whirling round and everything In it; and I could go no quicker; yet I knew that be gained upon me. I flung ap my eyes wildly ; I saw the flash and gleam of his upraised knifej I felt that It was descending—l shut my eyes that I might not see it—but I conld utter no sound. It fell with a cruel, sharp, sudden pain, and I sprang forward with a fearful, prolonged yell. My screams resounded through the oid ■house, scream upon scream; awaking my aunts and the servants, from sound slumber into terrified consciousness. They huddled together in groups of peculiar, if not picturesque, costumes ; and still my unearthly screams fell upon their ears. They armed themselves with pokers and other fireirons, •-the bnt’er taking the lead with a loaded revolver. Thus this motley crew entered my room. 1 was screaming still sitting up in bed, staring in front of me with dilated, te rifled eyes. The women servants who carried lamps raised them, and they looked at me. The unusual noise and the moving - I : ghta quickly aronsed me, together with my aunts’ voices.

• Toay, Tony I’ they exclaimed ; ‘what is the matter t What have yon seen ?’ ‘Matter enough,’ I replied foolishly, ‘I

ha ye seen Sambo’s ghost!’ The women servants shrank closer together, and shivered, and all present exchanged uncomfortable glances, while the bntler, finding his enemy could not be reached with powder and shot, showed no inclination to remain in the ghostly precincts. As I looked at the rampant curl papers of my aunts, a sense of ludicrous hors overcame me, and I began to laugh, ‘Poor-dear, ha is quite hysterical,’ cried one of them anxiously. ‘ you shall never sleep here again, Tony, be sure of that.’ But I con.dn’t help laughing still, for the ourl papers were so animated. Nothing would persuade the dear old ladles but that I should ha very ill, and they hustled me into a dressing-gown, and hurried me out of the room to a snug little box near their own, where my clothes were deposited by the butler, who could not, however, be induced to go back for my razors and brushes, which he had-forgotten, but promised to fetch them In the morning. The door of communication with the haunted wing was locked and bolted, and those who had beds returned to them, while I rolled myself in my railway rug, and finished my night in an easy chair. I have told you before that I am not a coward ; and I should have had no objection to resume my sleep on the old oak -bedstead. But my aunts were obdurate; they would not permit it. The next morning at breakfast my eldest aunt began, * Anthony, wo'ra going to pull it down.’

‘Pull it down’’ I repeated; ‘pull what down. Aunt Jem ?’ ‘ Why the wing to be sure—what else S’ ‘ Pull down the wing ?’ I echoed aghast ; ‘just after having It all so beautifully done up—and for me, too ! Ob, nonsense, my dear aunt; what is she matter with it ?' ‘My dear Anthony, it shan’t stand one brlok upon another after what happened last night,’ ‘Well, and what did happen, do yon think ?’ • You saw —oh, I can’t bear to speak of it, it Is too dreadful—and 1 never believed In it; really I never did.’ ‘ Believed In what ?’ I questioned, ‘ Why, in tho legend attached to tho house.’ ‘ Nor have 1/ I replied quietly, ‘and never will.’

‘ What! not after seeing it ¥ cried all m y aunts In a breath. ‘ I did nothing of the kind, my dear aunts. It was a dream ; nothing but a nightmare, I can assure you, I ate veal for dinner, and it never agrees with my digestion. Don’t give it me again, and £ shall see no more of my friend Sambo. Ho Is a ferocious looking follow, and once was quite euougb, I can tell y a.' But all I could say was of no avail. Another bedroom was prepared for me, end orders ware that very d»y issued for the destruction of the old wing, which had held its own against time and tradition so long. 1 continued to expostulate. It seemed such a pity to pull down the plsca because I h*d dreamt that Sambo had paid me a visit; and so I told roy aunts. ‘Yon may call it a dream, Tonv,’ said ABPt Jem, solemnly, ‘but we consider it a

vision. It ought to have been razed to the groaug long and long since.’ What was to be done with the bail stead and all its wonderful old carving 1 I begged that it might be preserved, it was so_ handsome. It would make into a splendid sideboard, book shelves, and dinner waggons. But my aunts were resolute. If the story were true at all, the murder had been committed on that very bed ; it should be burnt. They had kept It, believing the legend to be a romance ; t ut now they had changed their opinion, and nothing should remain connected with the deed of blood, I felt a sort of pity for the noble bedstead, and for the old rooms too, since it was through me that they were to bs demolished. The modern furniture had been removed to tho other part of the house, and tho work of destruction was about to begin. I felt constrained to go and look on at it, I found tha workmen were already roughly pulling down the royal old bedstead, I should have liked to save It even now, but I could hit upon no plan to induce my aunts to change their rather strong minds One of tho posts fell heavily, and the whole fabric came down with a great crash, falling partly against the wa'l and the projecting skirting board. I noiiced a sharp click, and wondered what It could be, but amid the noise of the falling oak it was not heeded by the workmen. When the wreck of the bedstead was removed, I eaw that the slanting skirting board had shifted, and pointed it out to one of men. They gathered round and examined it, seemingly much puzzled ; for the board had a con* cealed spring which had burst open from concuss'on The builder, ‘after looking at it a few momenta in silence, carelessly replaced the skirling board, saying there was nothing to stare at it in that. Hut when the old was safely out of the way, he ordered the men to continue their work of demolition ehewhere, and then ha came and touched me on the arm. •la there any truth, sir, in the tale that peopls tell about the murder of an old miser in this room ?*

‘You have asked a question I cannot answer/ I replied ; ‘my aunts* great-great-father, Mr Eow% is said to have been murdered her© by his negro servant, and because I dreamt I saw Sam the other night, my dear old aunts will pull the place down/ ‘ Perhaps they are right, sir/ answered the builder; ‘have you any objection to telling me all you have heard about the murder ?• ‘ Not in the le*Bt, if you really care to hear such rubbish/ And I told him in as few words as I could.

‘And now, air, would you think ma Impertinent if I beg yon to te l me your dream ’ I waa rather amused at the request, bat I did as he asked mo. He listened attentively, then regarded me gravely. ‘ That was no dream, air; there is more in thithan you sesm to think. I shou d not be surprised if wo come upon something in puking down this wing At any rate, I should like to work out the meaning of this spring in the skirting-board.’ ‘All right,’ I laughed; ‘do as yon like, and I’ll see fair play,’ The builder lay down upon the floor, removed the board, and peered In; aftqj - a few momenta he glanced sharply round the room, and his eyes rested on a cupboard. He at ones rose and went to it; opening the door b e remarked quietly—‘ Ah, I thought as much.’ I followed him and looked over his shoulder. Ths back of the cupboard had swung round, and there waa a narrow passage beyond. Wo both gazed eagerly into it, bat it was dark as night. ‘We moat have a lantern,’ ha said, and I offered to fttch one—an offer which he accepted, and remained on guard at the door. It waa some time before I returned, for a lantern coaid not at first be found. When I did. he was still waiting by the cupboard, We crept along the narrow passage, he leading the way with the light. The air was damp and offensive. ‘ Let ua get out of this horrid hole,’ I gasped, hardly able to breathe in the close, foul atmosphere. The passsge, which had been so narrow as barely to admit of our shoulders, now turned two ways. One down some steep steps, and the other np some scarcely lees_ steep. We therefore descended slowly, for it was very slippery. We were brought np suddenly by a thick, clampad door in the wall. ‘ This has been a secret entrance, evidently, ’ said the builder ; * but the bars are rusted in, and the key is gone. (To he continued)