me.

But I wonder when he will come?' I knew he was somewheres."

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God bless you, darling! That very same was I thinking: that the country was beautiful, but I was lonely in it, for want of some gentle heart and glowing face. I have found you, Katy, and both of us are happy."

Again the stranger in the mountains pressed to his lips the simple and unresisting face which had floated to him like a sunny cloud in this high vale, and for a little while he forgot that she was "Dutch,” hard as his native prejudices were against that humble race, longer in the land than his own name of Quantrell.

CHAPTER V.

LOVE AMONG THE SPOOKS.

WHEN they returned in consciousness to the whitewashed great room of Jacob Bosler, Nelly was sitting near the fire, which had burned low, with Luther on her right and Atzerodt on her left. Atzerodt was telling tales of spirits and frightening himself, and hence drew frequently upon the jug of whisky to give him what Lloyd called "Dutch courage."

He told of the snarley-yow and the were-wolf; the phantom soldier and the white woman which announced a death; of the big Indian's shade with a light in him; and of the fox-fire in the fields which lay on the meadow-grass at night and turned to silver, but like the fire-coals when stirred by avarice were silver only at night, but in the morning ashes.

Atzerodt's sallow, furtive, somewhat anxious face, like that of one intense yet animal, brightened up between the drink, the superstition, and his enjoyment of the others' fears; his voice was shrill and responsive to his emotions, his frame thick set and his movements were agile, his eyes a keen blue, and no repose was in his soul.

"He's one of the best coachmakers to be found," said Nelly to Lloyd. "If he'd be steady, he could marry any girl, and be a rich man."

"I don't want to be a mechanic's wife," said Nelly, “unless I must."

Looking at him again, as if trying to read him, Nelly Harbaugh

said:

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Is your watch gold? Won't you give it to me? What do you do in Baltimore ?"

"Spend money," said Lloyd, "run to the fires, turn out with the Grays, and guard the polls."

"The Grays? That's soldiers !"

"Yes, we're all Union men.

Not a foreigner in the company.

Our motto is, 'Put none but Americans on guard.’”

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I hope everybody is for te Union," Luther Bosler remarked;

66 we're all for it up this a-way."

"Katy," Lloyd said, "do you believe in ghosts?"

"Oh, yes, Lloyd."

"Tell me about one."

Katy shrank a little at being called upon to take so much attention, but her ready impulses carried her along.

66

"There was a girl over in Smoketown," Katy spoke, "who wanted to sell herself to te divel❞—Katy here seemed to be saying 'The Words" again an instant—" she wanted to pe rich and not to work; she thought she was a lady, and not a poor Dutch girl. So she asked her mother to let her sell herself to te little lame man. Her mother told her to go sit by te spring and say:

'I want clothes, and I want gold;

I want nefer to pe old;

I want peauty as long as I can

Gif it to me, little lame man!'”

"What a nice wish!" exclaimed Nelly Harbaugh.

"So te little lame man came right to te spring, and he said, 'Put your right hand on te top of your head.' She put it there. Put your left hand on the soles of your feet,' said he. She was sitting down, and she did that, too. 'Now,' said te lame man, ‘you must say, "All that is between my two hands belongs to te divel."' She started to say it, and had got to te last word, when her mother ran there and shouted God!' so she lost the words and said, 'All that is between my two hands belongs to God!' Te little lame man run back to Smoketown as fast as his legs could carry him."

"But didn't the girl get any nice clothes, or anything, for being so good?" asked Nelly.

She got," said Katy, blushing, "a good husband, my mother told me, if he was a poor young man."

"Dot Shmoketown,” cried Atzerodt, “is an ole Shpooktown, py Jing! I come along tare one night purty trunk, riding a horse, and joost as I crossed te leetle stream dis side of Shmoketown an begun to climb te mountain road dat comes dis way, and had got into de glen petween te Short Mountain an te Plue Ridge, I see pefore me a black man with a white face like a chiny plate. I said to myself, 'Py Jing, any company is petter dan none!' So I jined te black feller, and he was de nicest feller I ever did know; he was rale shentlemans.

66

'Says he: 'It's cold; we'll drink together!' He handed me a flask. When I got done trinkin', tere was another man riding with us.

"As we come up te mountain through te chestnut forest, te moon shined on te road, an efery time we took another trink, tere was another man on horsepack, till, py Jing! I counted apout nine men, and de last man was a woman.

"Tey all seemed to know te black man with te white face; he was a rale shentlemans.

"He made speeches out of pooks and drilled us like a solcher company, and we charged at a gallop, an rode company-face, an right-countermarch, an had a good time, py Jing! I guess I was purty trunk."

"You're not far from it now," said Nelly Harbaugh.

Atzerodt looked into the darker parts of the room apprehensively yet saucily, and continued:

"We got most to te top of te Plue Ridge, when te black man said, 'Who's dat long feller amongst te horses?'

"There was a man walkin' in te road. He was a long man in black clothes. He looked up and powed and said, 'Good-evening, friends; we're 'most home!' 'Te devil you are!' said te black man with te white face.

"We rode along awhile till te captain, as I'll call him, begun whisperin' to us an saying: 'Look at dat feller! He's eferywhere at once; he's on dat side, and on dis side, and petween our horses, and I pelieve he's joost a devil. Let's ride over him!'

"So we looked, an tere he was, right amongst te horses, dis side, dat side, not a pit afraid—”

66

'Oh, don't," spoke Katy, " don't tell us the rest unless it's good." "Go to bed, Andrew, you desperate, brave man," Lloyd Quantrell said, drawing his arm tighter around Katy.

"Yes," Luther Bosler added, "it's late, and this story is too long."

66

Go on," said Nelly Harbaugh; "I want to know what became of the black man with the white face.'

'Let's ride over him!' said te captain. All right, py Jing!' says I.

'No,' says some, 'he's a nice ole man, and he says he's 'most home.'

666

'Put it to vote!' says te black man with te white face.

"Py Jing! it was a tie; one half was one way and one half was te oder way.

"Leave it to te woman!' says te captain."

"That was the right way," Lloyd Quantrell said.

are always for pity, Katy."

"The women

"Te woman," concluded Atzerodt, "looked a leetle queer an said nothing till te black an white man rode to her side and looked at her like a rale shentlemans. Den she leaned over an' kissed him, and she joost yelled, 'Charge!'"

Excited with the recital and the drink, Atzerodt had arisen unsteadily as he shouted this last word.

666

Charge!' yelled te woman, and on we put, py Jing! to trample dat long man in te road.

"The first ting I knowed, we was at te steep edge of te mountain, and te captain rode right over. Down, down he went, and efery feller after him, and last of all, for my horse had stumpled—” "Ah! ah! Andrew," spoke Lloyd, “surely, with your splendid courage, you were not in the rear?"

"I was pitched off te horse joost pefore he jumped over, and I was fallin', too, but I see te long man lyin' in te road, an' I took hold of his hand to save myself.

'Te moon showed him lyin' there dead, all cut with te horseshoes. Te hand I took was slippery with something, and I couldn't git a tight hold of it."

"Not with your stalwart fist, Andrew ?" exclaimed Lloyd.

I couldn't git hold of it," said Atzerodt, with a changed and lowered tone, because his hand was bloody. So down I went, hundreds of feet, and next mornin' tere I was found underneath te

mountain, and Nelly Harbaugh was py me. Py Jing! ain't it so, Nelly?"

Yes," said Nelly, after a pause, “it was last April; he was coming to see me to make me marry him. I went out to hunt him, and there I found him asleep in the road, and his horse going loose. So I woke him up and sent him to the right-about."

"Py Jing!" exclaimed the tipsy man, tears of various origin coming to his eyes, "I'm come agin to-day, Nelly, to ask you to pe my wife. Don't say 'No.' You'll preak me all up. I have got a shop at Port Tobacco, and all te work I want, but I can't keep sober unless you marry me. Come, make me a home! You needn't work in te fields no more. I'll save you from want, and you'll save me from wickedness. Oh, I'll promise eferything!"

It's worth considering, Nelly," Luther Bosler remarked, with grave emotion. "He's a good mechanic."

"Take the candle and go to bed," commanded Nelly Harbaugh, looking at Atzerodt; "if you intend to obey me, begin now. I will not give you an answer till you are sober."

She stood, beautiful and tall, with her blue eyes full of care yet spirit, like one with resources but in doubt.

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Oh, to-night," pleaded Atzerodt, "or I may dream agin!" "To-morrow," said Nelly Harbaugh, pointing to the door.

The common fellow, in whom seemed some real sensibility now, took the candle and staggered meekly toward the entrance. "Kiss good-night!" he muttered unsteadily.

"You are not obeying me," answered Nelly Harbaugh.

He threw open the door leading into the night and stopped, with a trembling of the candle he held up, and the words, "It's dark, Nelly!"

"Now, now, Andrew!" Lloyd Quantrell cried, "I know you're not afraid to go to bed alone."

"You're a loafer," shouted Atzerodt in sudden rage, uttering an oath. "You'll pe no good to Katy!"

Lloyd made a push for the door, and Atzerodt fled, slamming it behind him.

The cur!" exclaimed Lloyd Quantrell, throwing his arm around Katy, who had followed him. "You know he slanders me, Katy." "Oh, he must," Katy said, “you are such a gentleman!"

Her brother's eyes followed Katy tenderly to the fire, as if to reassure her of their guest's good character; and then seeing her, with