CHAPTER III.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2209, 4 September 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 111.

I said nothing of my night adventure when I camp down to breakfast, for I did not like to lay myself open to ridicule ; and as I have always expressed a firm opinion that there are no ghosts, I felt the confession of having seen one myself would surely raise a laugh at my expense. Afterwards I forgot about the circumstance until that same evening, when, strolling with Agatha over Cliftondown, something was said by her of a ghost story rehting to White Lidies'road. My strange experience of the foiegoinjj night th*n recurring to *ny mind, I turned abruptly to her, and asked the question, " Agatha, have you ever heard the house you live in is finnnfnlV ' She gave a violent start. ' Haunted ! Cyril. Oh, why do you ask ?' ' Don't be frightened, dear,' I said, soothingly. ' You know I place no brliet in ghosts, but certainly something minium/ appeared to me last night.' ' What did you see '? and I could feel her hand trembling on my arm. ' 1 saw a tall, gaunt old woman, with a very stern face, standing in the middle of my lied room floor, and looking steadily at me,' I replied. Agatha's blue eyes opened widly. 'At what time, Cyril, was that?' 4 1 do not know. 1 did not look at my watch to see the time ; but I should think h»lf the night had passed.' 1 Then you had been asleep ?' said my betrothed, quickly. * Cyril, don't you — think it was a dream?' ' No, I do not ; in fact, I am quito sure I was not dreaming. I saw tliia woman as plamlv a.s I sec you now. The moonlight shone fully upon her, and I thought at lirat that some old lady staying in the house had mistaken my room for her own.' ' Whit undrcpMvd you r' ' llvr sudden di«;ippe/imnee. This convin 'cd mo at once it must; h.'ive b< e r » a uho-t ; no hiimnti beiny could \ani>-h like a flash of lijrhtninp, a* she did.' ' Was the door Hosed ':' a^ked A 'rath a. 1 Not on.y rlo^id, bur Iwkul ' I turned the key owrniifhr. and jt was unnunvd when I examined the room. Another pi oof th it., whatevr-r I &,tw,ifc was nothing' of fli-h and Unn-V 1 But. no o'm> else has ever been div tuibed in th.it room. Why should you see -hi nppirmon r Cyril, I do not Jilcp it at .ill ; oh, I do hope nothing i-, to befall j mi.' cried nn darling. ' [ hope ><>t, I>ut my str.injje visitor uttpred no predit:ti.>n "f doom,' I replied, with :i ,-mil< . ' t\o-j>t. that, of course, c>nu feel- .i ceit iin p'culinr fenr iv seeing n. t'lio-t Th^io w.i- nothing \ery harrowing in this .•ipp'-.itMiK.e.' • I »ul it -;•< ak .-' • Not. u woitl It '.Miked to the toil->t, t'bli', pointed .it si mm thm<£ upon it, and, when I looked round, was — yone !' ' And wh.it w\i- on the table : Did you ndfici' y ' 1 »h mid think -<< ; I wk out of bwl in n mi'iiif nt . but nothing wai there b- -id > rn\ biush :uid comb, -;\w a ),,u- ( fJnoii ' Tritit'-. tbf ridiculous p:irt of tii- m-i t f ( r. What cui'd .'my well-con-diwft'd "lio^t nio-in by waking me up in t)\f ttiiddl' of fheniL'ht to look ,\t—a pin-m^/i'i-ii'! Iciio.l, w ith a .smilp. 1 in i no ai.swfuii^r «mile cime to A>f •Mih 1-'1 -' lip B he li «d dropped my arm, -aid w,h .staudinor iinitply, looking -traijjrht before her into space. Suddenly she 0 ivcrnd hor fnco with her hands. I put mv trms round her. 'Wh it i-< tbp matter ? You are trembling like a loaf!' I crmd. 'Oh, Cyiil, I am afraid! Tbpre is leoincthinj.' in this we cannot fathom,' she replied. ' Thit pin('ii«bion was givf-n m^ by my Aunt Barbara on her death-bed. ' ' -\itrl did ?l»e die in that room in which 1 slept?" I a«ked. 'She did I'oor. poor Aunt Barbara ! T> must h.ive been her spirit that yon saw ! But what is it troubles her that she cannot re^t in her grave ?" 'We niii«t endeavour to find out, \githa. Was site fond of you ?" • SS r Hs, Always " ' Tlien thit is the explanation of her coming to me," I said. • They must know in the ne\t world what p.vsscs in this, so your aunt, no doubt, was aware we are to be minied, md that our interests were to be identical " My love looked puzzled. 'But I cannot see what connection there is between our interests and a pincushion," she remarked. ' Well. I must admit neither can I at present,'' I confessed. ' Would you know the face again you saw last night. ' Most certainly I should ; the moonlight hi ought every feature into relief.'' "• Was this it—Look !" She had unfastened a brooch from her collnr. It contained a photograph within, which she turned to my gaze. 4 Th© Very same !' I ejaculated ; a certain awe sto.ilin<r over my mind hs I beheld the presentiment of that i«tern. face trhteh had «o mysteriously appeared to me last night. 'There i» then no doubt about the matter. For whatever reason she revisited the earth, it was tho spirit of Aunt Barbara that you siw,' hiid A^'athii. We walked on iv silence while we both mused deeply. ' Can there be tiny *tory connected with that pincushion ?' at last I said. ' None of whi<-h lam aware. My aunt did quite suddeidj', in some kind of Kr, we thought. I was by her .side. Sh» < ould i\->t >pc i)c, but evidently erid»'avouied by s'gns to make me uuder.-taiul ••oui* 1 l.i «t w i-li As .-.he kept puiutiiiir to what Mvmt-'d to be 1 1 » if" vorj tiling wo ;ire -p>^ i ls i » t it of. 1" took it in my linnd, thinkiti',, as it h id beea embroidered, by her, that sb^ wished me to keep it iv ii>n\( j tiMi- nice Sue -^erned bttter sat^fi'.l. Im' s,:ll srrov" for hpeeeh until d. atli cirrte. I h ivp ofti'n wondered •.u, ch wliu it W'i^ sho \vi c hed to i?av.' • C tu^l it, b.tve bet n about any mnn°v she wished to leave you r Was .she ri'-h r' I :i-ked. ' No,' siid A'jtiHi i. 'We used to fancy she- had wealth during her lifetime, and pi.ia -ornetimes siid a- I was her favourite that, she would bequeath me a fmtuue. but when her things cjimf l to b^ « \amiiied, no trite of it whs found. They, my parents, have laughed often since over my yriud legacy, of a fdded pinciHion, v»v »u c I nn 1 * 1 always prized it for Aunt B- bin' - -iKe.' ' Was she an eeeentnc person ?' i ' Very. She had one strange hobby all ! her life, a perfect mania for collecting books about diamonds ; even a newspaper paragraph describing the discovery of a large gem she would cut out and treasure I up with car^ f and she was often to be

observed standing in front of jewellers' windows, gazing earnestly at the diamonds within. A sudden inspiration rushed into my ' Agatha !' I cxclaiiyaj^qjfus ifoge raT pincushion.' ■ - ' Cyril, what can be there ?' she asked, in A»tauiBhment. -. » *«-—^« ~ „— • Diamonds !' I cried. No cr.iss grew under our feet in that homeward journey, and no sooner had wC2JiBiM(i™tli^ttHP»Bbokl^hrt>»-'^¥O'Tnade-a-sunultaneous rush for my bedroom. Once t}iere a. wondrous sight greeted us —a sight which, nearly sent Agatha and myself wild with jay, for, as we opened the door, a mine of light seemed to be sparkling on the lloor. , A di aught of air from a window had blown down tbo old pincushion. It had broken, asunilev in the* fall,, and there, amidst tlie.iuins of faded sjlk and quilted hnm«r, Wib biasing hi crystal priory a quantity of large brilliant diainouds. 'iho mystery was solved. Here was the hoard which ' the dying woinau had , vainly struggled to reveal, aud iv .these gems hcrnipni'y hadbee,u expended. ' On you dailiujj-i '' ei.iculatpd Airatha ; ah douching on the ground, she pressed her fn\sh youn^ lips to the jewels 'This th 'ii w.is the legacy whieli Aunt B.i'rb-ir.i intended for rao. Cyril, dearest Cyril, you can now purchase that partnership, and this is why she appeared to you.' Then, ak I thanked my darling and drew her to my breast, she lifted her eyes to heaVen, and murmured softly, ' God bless you, Aunt Barbara, for the happiness ) ou have givpn this day to two hearts !' Aud Aunt Barbara troubles this eaith no more, now that her errand is accomplished ; but wo keep a certain faded pincushion as a sacred mementp of our kind benefactress.