triumph of the girl, the figure outside the door stole swiftly in and swung aloft

a heavy axe

Loud knocking, and my sister's voice at the door: 'For goodness' sake get up quickly, Henry, there is some one in the house!'

I arose hastily and opened the door. trembling with affright.

There stood my sister and aunt,

'O Henry!' my sister said, 'we have heard such fearful noises in the house. Such woful sounds! I am sure some one has broken in upon us.

There are burglars here, you may depend!'

Said my aunt: 'The house is haunted!'

Dressing ourselves as speedily as possible, we descended to the diningroom, where we lighted the lamps, and whence I made a careful search over the building. Windows and doors were all fast, and the only sound I heard was the dreary pelting of the rain and the perpetual murmur and sobbing of the wind in the pines. There was surely no one in the house.

Looking at my watch, I found the time to be about six o'clock, corresponding with my awaking the previous morning. I remembered my fearful visions distinctly, but forebore adding to the evident terror of the women by relating them. Sufficient unto them was the evil whereof they knew.

We ate no breakfast that morning, the uneasiness even of my aunt having deprived her of her usually good appetite. As for me, I was constantly repeating my two nights again, and dreaming those terrible dreams of Beauty and the Beast. We drew our chairs together near the kitchen hearth, and I piled great logs upon the glowing fire. The flames roared fiercely up the chimney and flashed a deep red lustre out into the room, but still the apartment wore a doleful look, and still the dreary and uncomfortable dampness hung about the house.

At length said my aunt: 'How much like a grave-stone this white marble hearth is; it should wear 'In memory of' upon its surface.'

'Look!' my sister cried, 'the ashes have formed a Death's head near its centre, and an ugly crack divides it there!'

Surely a whimsical fancy might trace some likeness to the outlines of a skull in a little collection of ashes, whisked together by the draughts that wandered uncertainly about this strange house.

We left the kitchen and established ourselves in the dining-room. Toward noon my aunt brewed a dish of strong coffee, and I fetched a bottle of old Madeira from the cellar. Sipping the coffee and the wine, our spirits rose to that extent that we ventured to partake of a slender and cold dinner — the remains of our yesterday's provision. Shortly after the sun came forth, the clouds rolled away, and outside the house, at least, a certain cheerfulness began to prevail. The sun-shine was soon followed by my friend the agent, who knocked at the kitchen-door and then entered without a bidding. He came in quietly, but with a certain concern visible upon his face, and seated himself without a word. Then he looked about him with the air of one who has come expecting to hear complaints of some sort, and is prepared to answer them, but

who hesitates to open the subject. No one volunteering any thing save the common salutations and a word or two upon the weather, he at length ventured to remark that he hoped we had found the house sufficiently commodious. Quite so, we assured him.

'Not so lively, perhaps,' he queried, 'as we had been accustomed to?' 'Not quite,' my aunt remarked, and yet not altogether free from noise.' The agent looked disturbed. 'The wind does make an awful moaning through the pine-trees of windy nights,' he said, 'but then we shall not have such nights as the last two, long, I hope.'

'I shall not, for one,' quoth my aunt, with great firmness of manner; 'I shall leave the house this day.'

'Then I shall go, too,' said my sister; 'I would not pass such another night for any thing in the world.'

The agent did not seem so much surprised at these rather startling announcements as I should have anticipated. 'Heard any noises, ma'am?' said he to my aunt.

'Most fearful ones,' she said. 'The house is haunted!'

'Just so!' quoth the agent with imperturbable gravity; then turning to me: No mention was made in our agreement concerning any abatement in rent on account of a ghost, I believe?'

'None at all, Sir,' I said.

'I've heard talk,' he continued, 'of there being noises here, but I never put much faith in the stories. There has n't been a family in since I had charge of the property, and I had an idea the noises were all child's play. I did n't want to lose the chance of a tenant, so I did n't mention the nonsense to you. Any how, I reckon my principal will want his cash for the year, whether you stay or go.'

'Alice and I must leave this fearful place to-day,' said my aunt, ‘and I hope and pray you will not think of remaining in the house, Henry.'

'I think I shall try the ghosts one night more, Aunt Mary,' I said. In fact, I had become interested exceedingly in the tragedy that haunted my slumbers, and I wished, if possible, to see it played out. My skepticism was still so strong that I felt no fear in connection with our nocturnal visitations, being inclined to believe that I could yet explain them by other than supernatural causes, and to hope that they would cease to return if I faced them boldly. So I said: 'I think I shall try the ghosts one night more, Aunt Mary.'

It was vain for the women to endeavor to deter me from my purpose, I had become too earnestly determined to see the end of the business, and they finally relinquished the attempt as useless. Then came the question as to where they should go for the night, for it was as vain for me to urge them to sleep again in the house, as it was for them to argue me into flying from it. The agent said his wife had expressly commissioned him to say that she would be happy to accommodate any or all of us. Possibly I would go, too, ‘just to humor the ladies!'

'You knew 't was haunted,' cried Alice, and you had no business to let us come here without telling us.'

'That was just my business,' he replied; 'I was acting under instructions from the owner.'

Presently the agent drove away, promising to return at nine o'clock in the evening to drive the ladies to his residence in the village. We passed rather a dismal afternoon and evening, even the hot tea and biscuit, produced in my aunt's well-known style, failing to cheer us, and I felt somewhat relieved when nine o'clock brought the agent, and ten minutes past nine carried him and the ladies off to the village.

I had determined not to go to bed this night, but rather to keep myself awake in my study, and so take the ghosts at an advantage. As a preliminary to my watch, I lighted a lantern, and beginning at the garret where the old man of my dreams mocked me from the canvas on the wall- made a thorough exploration of the house. Every thing was in perfect order, all doors and windows fast, and so far as bolts and bars could protect me, I felt safe from harm. It was only when I reached the cellar that I recollected that I had no sort of weapon in case of an attack from mortal foes. As this thought struck me, I noticed an old and rusty iron bar standing in one corner of the cellar, which I appropriated and conveyed to my study. It was a somewhat clumsy weapon, but still formidable enough to repel any ordinary attack. Placing it at a convenient distance from my seat, and taking down a volume of 'Percy's Reliques,' I lighted a cigar and resigned myself to my watching.

I watched long and wearily, consuming cigar after cigar. It must have been past mid-night when sleep at length overcame me, and my head sank forward upon my arms, folded before me on the table, in which position I found myself on finally awaking from my third horrible night-mare in this house.

It appeared to me that I sat in my study-chair, smoking and taking occasional sips of brandy-and-water, until the kitchen clock had struck twelve, one, two, three, four and five. The little bronze receptacle for cigar-ashes had long since risen to a gray mound upon the table, from the summit of which appeared the Cupid's head that formed the handle, peering out from the midst of dust and ashes. The bottle was half-emptied; the book was stale, and the loves of King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid had no charms. Still I sat there, and it was now past five o'clock when I heard a singular sound, as of something unwieldy and unhuman stumbling slowly down the broad stair-way. It cer tainly was not the step of one person, nor did it sound exactly like the steps of two. I listened, holding my breath, and then arose and stole quietly to my study-door, which opened directly at the stair-case foot. There they came, surely. A most horrible spectacle, too. She, old, ugly and shaking with terror, bore upon her shoulders something bulky and limp, that trailed behind her-white, red and black. He followed, holding aloft a candle. A cloth bound about his head rendered yet more conspicuous the ferocity of his face, while the terrible fear that possessed him added to his evil aspect.

But what is it borne slowly and painfully by the woman, one end upon her shoulders, the other striking flabbily and dully from step to step as she descends? See the white night-robe and the long, black hair dripping blood

down the stair-way as the toilsome descent continues; and observe in the masses of the hair those pearls, unsought and uncared for, now that lust has brought forth death!

'Hurry! hurry!' whispers the phantom with the light, 'the day dawns and men will be stirring!'

'How can I hurry,' hisses the grizzly phantom tottering below him, 'with this cursed body on my shoulders? Why could n't you let the girl go in peace?'

'I did n't kill her!' cries the other; ''t was none of my doing!'

'Ha! but she would have killed you but for me; she would have killed you in one minute more! '

'Well! well! Hurry! hurry! for day-light is coming, and men will be stirring !'

'What will you tell them,' cries the phantom with the burden; 'what will you say when they ask where your ward is?'

'Let us bury her first with dispatch, and hide her clothes and her cursed jewels, and then we will consider what we shall say.'

'Murder will out, though-murder will out. Why were n't you satisfied with me, without bringing us to this, through your cursed fancy for a pair of white arms and a round shoulder!'

''Twas the jewels, I tell you, the jewels! Who ever saw before such diamonds, such opals, such pearls! I never intended to kill the girl.' 'No, but she meant to kill you! She'd have done it but for me.' 'I wish she had!' groaned the man; why do you stop at the foot of the stairs? the day-light!'

on my soul, I wish she had! But We must get her out of sight before

'get her out of sight! I tell you

'Get her out of sight!' sneered the hag, she will be found if you sink her a thousand feet!'

With her back to the other, the woman could not see as I could, how dark his brow grew at these words, and what a dangerous light glowed in his eyes as he looked down upon her. Still he only said: 'Hurry! hurry! for daylight comes and men will be stirring.'

Then the phantoms raised the body between them, bore it slowly past me, without heeding my presence, and passed with it into the kitchen.

Drawn by an impulse perfectly irresistible, I followed softly.

They bore it toward the door leading to the cellar-stairs, and in doing so passed the fire-place. Here the old man paused and uttered a low ejaculation, which caused the other to drop her end of the burden to the floor. As it fell, the pearls knotted in the hair clashed together, but the twain took no heed of the sound.

The old man pointed with a grim glee to the marble hearth-stone. 'There is a hollow beneath that stone,' he said, 'that I provided long ago for the concealment of precious things. We can place it there without fear of detection. Quick-lime will keep our secret for us. Only hurry! But wait till I get the bar.'

Hastily the figure with the light glided through the cellar-door, leaving its

companion with darkness and the body. He soon returned, bearing a bar so like the one I knew to be in my study, that only the keenest longing to see the dreadful end restrained me from returning to ascertain if it were still in its place. He inserted one end of the bar between the stone and the flooring, and with an almost supernatural strength turned the slab over. I saw beneath it a dark and empty space, more than sufficient to contain the body.

They lifted it and placed it within. Then the old man made as though he would replace the stone.

'Wait,' cried the woman, 'I must have those pearls!' and she stooped over the vault.

As she did so, he swung upward the bar and brought it down full upon her head, into which it sank with a dull crash!

'Dead men tell no tales!' he whispered, as he turned the stone back to its place. It fell with a loud reverberation, and lay as before, save that it was cracked directly across the centre.

I was broad awake, raising my head from my folded arms. My lamp had burned out, but a cold, clear dawn breaking through the windows showed me the otherwise unchanged aspect of my study. Before me on the table lay a pile of cigar-ashes. At my elbow stood the half-filled bottle. Within easy

reach was the bar I had fetched from the cellar. Grasping this, with my nerves strung to the very highest pitch, I hurried to the kitchen. With some labor I pried up the hearth-stone.

In the shallow pit before me lay some bits of rags, two piles of bones, and a mass of night-black hair, from which peeped out, here and there, fair pearls.

I dropped the stone, and threw down the bar, and through the cold, gray dawn I fled the house, nor looked behind me as I fled.