Marshall County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 2, Plymouth, Marshall County, 20 November 1856 — Page 1

THE BLESSINGS OF GOVERNMENT, LIKE. THE DEVS OF HEAVEN, SHOULD FALL ALIKE UPON THE RICH AND THE POOR JACKSON.

VOIL. Ä.NO. 2.)

business g-i rectory THE MARSHALL DEMOCRAT, PUBLISHED EVERT TIICR3DAY 3IORNIXG, BY A. c. Thompson & p. McDonald TERMS: f paid in ad ranee,. At the end of six months,. . . It delayed until the eud of the year,.. . ADVERTISING: ;...2 50 One square (ten lines or lea,) three weeks !,. 1 00 23 '." 5 00 . 8 00 ..12 00 , . 8 00 .15 00 ,.25 00 ..14 00 ..24 00 .45 00 of one Echail'Utionai huhtu'mi, M Column three months, ? Column six mouths, "i-i Column one roar, ...... 1 Column three months, 2 Column six months, Column one year, 1 Column three mouths,.... 1 Column six month?, 1 Column one year, TV. Yearly advertisers have the privilege change free of charge. Ck Jicmotrat loli (Dflice! PLAIN IIULES, AND ML TYPE & MISS, CUTS, Sec, Sec. Our Job Department Is now supplied with an extensive and well selected assortment of new styles plain and faney 3-ob tJOsrTn7 Which enables us to execute, on hort notice and reasonable terms, ail kinds tf l'lain and Ornai.ienJOB PRINTING! NEAT, FAST AND CHEAP; SUCH A3 CIRCTI.AR3, HANDBILLS, LABKL3, PAMPHLETS, BUSINESS CARDS, BLAME DEEDS t mortgages; CATALOGUES, Ami in short, Blanks of every variety and description. Call imd see specimen?. ft - rcii T T - PfifTYTV T? rPPHl.TP AT. & by I. Mattixci.v, riymouth, led. -r-nmvf.F.V. A- SIIIKT.KY. DEALERS IN f5 Dry Goods and Groceries, first door cast of Michigan street, I lymouth, liul. RtWTlHvNS DEAIdTTx DILY J3 Goods and Groceries, corner Michiwm and Ii Porte streets Plymouth, In 1. C PALMER, DEALER. IN DIIY GOODS A: m Groceries, south corner La Porte nnd Michigan Erects, rivmou.th, Ind. -VT H- OULE3HKE & Co., DEALERS IN J3 9 Dry Godd& Groceries, Brick torc Michigan street riymouth, Ind IV T II?. DUNHAM, MILMNE'l & MANTUA ':! . r.i ...t. g .iKfr, nuioiiiii, i. tu M. BROWN, DEALER i HARDWARE, Stoves, Tinware, &c, Plymouth, lud A DAM VI NN EDGE, WHOLESALE and Kctad urocer, nymoutn, mi. TTM. L. riATT, MANUFACTURER OF VV Cabinet Ware, Plymouth, lad. ;T IV. SMITH. JUSTICE OF THE TEACE, cflt::c Mic'.iun s-t., lyr:aouU, lnl. i i inrr i- r.. VAVTiVArrniiFlN nr Wagons, Carriages & Hows, riymouth, Ind. C OLLINS k NICHOLS, MANUFACTURers of ash &c l'lymoutli, ImiTOHN D. ARMSTRONG, HLACKSMITH, JI south of the Bridge, Plymouth, Ind. BENJ. BENTS, BLACKSMITH, riymouth, Ind. A K. BRIGGS, BLACKSMITH, 1'lj mouth, Ind, E DWARDS' HOTEL, BY W. C. EDWARDS, riymouth, Ind. A C. CAPRON, ATTORNEY L COUNselor at Law, Plymouth, Ind. HAS. H. REEVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW i Notary Public, Plymouth, Ind. II OR ACE COR1JIN, ATTORNEY AT LAW Plymouth, Ind. JOHN G. OSBORNE, ATTORNEY AND cousellor at Lnw,oJHec over C Palmer's store, cor. Iiporte and Mich, sts., Plyuouth, Indiana. RAZER i'lFuGUrfr ATPORN E YS AND Counsellors at Law, Plymouth, Ind. AML. B. COR B A LEY, NOTAEyTuHLIG Plymouth, Ind. D R. J. E. BROOKE, PHYSICIAN & SURpeon, Plymouth, Ind. riIIEO. A. LEMON, THYSICIAN, SURJL GEON &I)mpgi.-t Plymouth, Ind. R UFUS BROWN, PHYSICIAN & SUR GEON, Plymouth, Ind. S IIICr.INBOTHAM, PHYSICIAN k SUR- . GEON, Plymouth, Ind. JOHN H. SHOEMAKER, WATCHMAKER and Jeweler Plymouth, Ind. K LINGER k BRO. DEALERS IN LUMBER etc,... Plymouth, Ind. H E N R Y PIERCE, DEALER IN CLO thin;; & r umishing Goods, Plymouth, Ind. AUSTIN FULLER, MANUFACTURER And dealer in Flour Plymouth, Ind. H ENRYM. LOGAN & Co., DEALERS IN Lumber, &c. Plymouth, Ind. BARBERING AND IIAIRDRESSINO, BY Alfred Billows, Plymouth, Ind. LEAVELAND L IIEWETT, DEALERS in Dry Goods, etc., Plymouth, Ind. J IL CASE, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, ; . . . . Plymouth, Ind. . . Plymouth, Ind. DR. J. J. VI N ALL, HOMEOPATHIST, .. 1TlceoTCr Pahner store, Plymouth,' Ind. VX HUME, HARNESS MA KERi -f - Plymouth, Ind. WM. R U DD, MANUEACTUiTeR "of notfl and Shoes... ... . riymouth, Ind. " A ' C, STALE Y. MANUFACTURER AND t JTjL. dealer in Boots' & Shoes, Tlymoutlf, Ind. . UAUJU.N, BY A. P. GILBERT. ROOMS VJ t over Th'Jortton'i G.ottry,. . Plyinoath, lud-

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART.

:.- A CEUMAX ROMANCE. i : . I have a talo to tell; with a true German flavor, of a - huntsman' of the olden time, and of the ringing of a shot in the recesses of a forest. It is a tale, taken, from the lips of the people, and it may be true. I hare its kernel from a German -writer, Edmund Hoefer. From village to town, and back from town to villacrc no matter where the nar3 .... row footpath runs at one end through smooth meadows, then descends intoT a wide holiow, of which the whole sweep is filled with a glorious old wood; but at the other end the path runs through the standinir corn. From villago.to town, or back from town to village, men, women, , and children hurry through tho wood. No trodden grass betrays feet that have been truant to the beaten path. " Kot jtr from the bottom of the hollow there is an open space in the dense forest, and the trees on one ride stand apart, as if at tho entrance to a narrow avenue; but tho avenue is no path now, if it ever were one. It is choked up with underwood, matted with brambles and wild vines, and the narrow footway strikes directly across the forest lawn of grass and flowers in the littlo open glade; there is no sign of wavering in any wayfarer no turning asido to be delected. There was assuredly another path here once, for here there was set up a guide-post, unless for such purpose nor, and overgrown with ivy. One of its three directing boards being destroyed, or having rotted off, it .looks like a rudo cross set up in the forest; and the peasants of the district though they are by this lime all Protestants look up at it with a prr.vcrful ejaculation as they hurry by. A party of English travelers dwelt for a few days in tho adjacent town, and soon discovered that the grand old forest oaks wcro good to din j under. They knew generally that the place was accursed and was believed to harbor spectres, if not worse tilings. Before this generation was born, a lord of tho castlo had gone suddenly abroad, and his lady-mother, - who remained at homo, had cursed tho forest, and permitted 1.0 wood to be felled no labor to bo done in it. This curso the family kept up, and except tho use of the necessary paths, the forest had, been for almost a century untouched by man. It wa? ! tha more luxuriant for that; and the smooth j plot of grass in which the guide-post stood, with broad boughs and blue sky above, were floor and ceiling as it seemed, to the best of pic-nic dining rooms. Only their servants went with tho holiday makers, who had dined well, and were dancing merrily when the first shadows on tha turf began perceptibly to lengthen. The few rustics who came to and fro upon tho path, had all day long looked more or less aghast ät their proceedings. Tho last who had passed by even presumed to stop and urge thdt they would return homo before twilight closed. Tho wood, he said, is never safo for Christian men, and evil things lie yonder. His hand waved hurriedly towards tho ancient avenuo. and he stepped on apace, for he had been venturesome in making any halt at all. 'Why, there is a full moon to-night,' said Clara Hough, one of the party; 'tho best of the pic-nic is to come. If anytairies should appear, we'll join our dance to theirs, as for ghosts, I should like to sec one! Is this one of their walking days? What says the calander?' 'It is the Feast of St. Egidius,' said Eustace Wenn, who hoped indue time to convert Miss Hough into Mrs. Wenn. St. Egidius' day is nothing in particular. Of course we shall go home by moonlight, but I vote for an ad venture. Let us break open the path-way, and find out the demon of the wood. Something, of course, lies yonder. Who joins the exploring party?' Women, and men too, grow superstitious in the twilight, wise as they may be. There wcro no volunteers. 'My dear fellow said tho host, join our next dance. m The path, you see, is impervious.' Mr. Wenn, leant among the trees," and shouted back intelli genco that it was easy with one pair of hands to cut a way there, even for a lady. 'Then, said Miss Hough following his lead, 'by all means let us go.' 'Let them alone,' said tho host, 'they are lovers, and they would not thank us for our company.' The dance, therefore, was formed, and tho young people went alone into tho wood. The green leaves, the gleams of sunset coloring, tho twittering of the birds above, tho moss and flowers under-foot, tho pleasant exercise of fighting down such obstacles as thorns and tendrils oflered, the young gentleman smoothing tho way for the young lady, as ho hoped to smooth her way on other paths, vhen sho was an older lady, and they traveled over years of life that seemed to bo before them all such things mad tho little expedition as agreeable as might have been desired. Thcro was another small break in the wood, and

PLYMOUTH, THUMeA,

a broader avenue of smooth turf pierced the trees beyond it. Upon a hillock of large mossy stones, that seemed at .one time to have, been assembled together by an idle man, the lovers sat to rest and talk, for five minutes or longer, of their own affairs. The gentleman spoke most; the lady looked much downward, and trifled with her little foot among the moss upon one stone larger than the others. 4 Why, thcro is a great cross, and there arc three unreadable letters scratched upon this stone!' said she. '.The first, I think, is a G.- Let us go on! let us go on! This heap is shapen, I think, liko a grave. Or shall we go back? I have a dread tipon me.' But tho way forward was easy, and the sky was light, and to go on was to remain quietly together. Tho' young people went on, with their hearts open to each other, impressible enough, and quite as serious a3 they were happy. One or "two fallen trees wcro the difficulties in tho way by which they reached a third and larger open space. Passing by a carved stone fountain, full of a dry growth of moss, they saw a decayed house With its out-buildings. The houso was of gray stone, that seemed to lean against a slender round tower, bound with ivy to the top-most turret. There was a terrace before it with grass, and there were vestiges of flowerbeds. Over tho arched entrancegate were set up throe pairs of decayed antlers; into tho wall wa3 fixed a rusty chain with an iron collar, to which there was yet attached tho skeleton of a dog. All was silent, for tho twilight had set in; the birds were in their nests; and in tho old house it was evident that that no man lived. The door stood half open. Tho two enter ed. .Though uninhabited, the house was not unfurnished. Rusty guns and hunting knives hung on tho walls; mouldering benches wero in the outer hall; an inner room, of which the w indow was darkened by the foliage of an untrimmed vine, had two soiled cups upon the its table and a nisty coffe-pot. Thcro lay on a chair near it a half-knitted stocking. . Out of this room a door led into a smaller chamber, full of hunter's tools, in which thcro was a bed still tumbled; and thcro was, among all the man's furniture in that room, a chest containing a womans's clothing and the clothes of littlo children. In tho recess of tho window a silver cup was set up, as in the place of honor; and on a tablo by tho bedside lay an old hunters cap, a hymn book, and a bible. 'The books,' said the Englishman, 'will tell us who lived here. Opening the bible, ho read to his companion tho house-hold cldonicle sot down-on its first leaf: 1744. St. Bartholomew's Day. My father, Hans Christoph, died. The" lord count, who was present, made mo his euccessor as head foreseer. Hans Conrad Ducker.' '1752. St. Favian's day. I married Gertrude Maria, peasant Seinfurt's daughter. Yas, on tho above day, thirty years old, and my wife will be nineteen next St. Bridget's. My happiness is complete; may Heaven bless our union!' 417ß4. On tho twelfth of July our first child born. He shall be called Hans Christoph.' A cross follows, and tho remark 'Died at midnight, on the first of January anno 1755. MTflo. Annunciation day. Our second son born. I am very glad. God bless him. He shall be called after my brother Peter Michael.' A cross follows, aud the noto 'Died on St. Walpurgis, 1C57.' ' 1 755. St. I lubert's day Won the silver cup with a master shot. Tho lord count praised my shooting before all the gentlemen. 175G. St. Annes day. A daughter born to mo. Heaven bless her. Sho shall be called Gertrude Joanna.' '175C. St. Egidius' day. My wife Gertrude Maria died of a shot in the wood. I will not curso her. God be a merciful judge to us both.' 1771. My lord the old count died on St. Valentine's day. The young Lord Leonard Joseph Francis takes his place.' There iras nomoro to bo read. One entry in tho list excited the samo thoughts in both tho lovers. This man, it was evident had killed his wifj on St. Egidius day; and they had on tho samo day whispered their heart's love over tho murdered woman's grave. Then, again, why did tho old huntsman register his son as born into his household, but his daughter as only unto himself? Theso things tho lovers noticed as they read the little chronicle; but they spoko only of tho hunting cup, the marksman's prize, still in tho window, looked at it, and returned into tho other chamber. Another door seemed to lead from it into other rooms. They walked in that direction, and tho young man saw that they wero following a trail of dark stairs on the floor. Ho did not point them out to his companion. Tho door led to a narrow stair; perhaps tho trail was there, but there was no light by which it could be seen. Tho stair led to a room that had been prct-

tily furnished, and of which the window opened at once upon a broad terrace that swept back toward the wood. Tho moon by that time had risen, and shone through the window. One pane had been broken, splinters of glass lay close Under it. The table was overthrown a broken lamp was on tho floor; also a book, handsomely bound, which seemed to be ground under the heel rather than trod upon, by a strong man. . Tho English lady stooped to pick it up, but as she did so, she saw, by the moon-light, stains upon the oaken floor, which made her suddenly recoil and lean., trembling, on her lover for support. They looked towards the sofa, an old piece of furnituie covered with blue damask; upon that too, there was a large dark stain, and over it the moon cast the shadow of the two young people. Tho shadow of a young man erect the shadow of a young girl clinging to it violently trembling. 'Look! look! Eustaco,' cried the girl. 'These arc notour shijlows!' 'Indeed, love, they.cDid you not tell m, this was St. Egidius day?' Both started, for thpre was a sudden flutter in the room distinctly heard. The young man promptly 'saw and pointed out that this noise was nothing supernatural.

Besides an unprcssed bed in one corner of tho room, there were some more handsonialy bound books upon a table, all in gilded aiid morocco covers. One of them lay open, and the evening breeze that entered through the broken panes of glass had totiched some of its leaves. Tho lovers are a ' long timo absent,' whispered partners :o each other, as they danced their last dance on the cnass about the guide-post. 'If they bo lost in the wood, and we have to go a hunting for them, it will bo a pretty midsummer's night dream.' Shrill whistling and loud shouting presently grew to be the only amusement of the company, and wero kept until the missing pair appeared. 'But you do look as if you had been seeing ghosts,' somebody said to them.' What are they like?' 'The nearest thing to a crhost that we have seen,' said Mr. Wenn, 'I seized and brought with me. Here it is.' lie took a little book out of his pocket a book bound in red morocco, and beset with tirnished 'gilding which ho oflered for the inspection of the company. Why, what fruit' is this to bring out of an oak wood!' cried raino host; 'a corrupt French romance!' The acc uut brought homo of tho forester's deserted house, that had been at last actually seen by an English geiitloman and lady, was in a day or two town news, and tho story to which it belonged had been duly fitted to it. This is the story: Conrad Ducker and his daughter one morning sat at breakfast many years ago. You arc spoiling my coffee, Gertrude,' said the old forester, a stern, daik-looking man; 'your thoughts are astray. You've been reading those detestablo red books. You must get married and be a housewife, girl.' I, father?' Yes, you. Peter from beyond the mountain came to ask for you this morning. A husban-1 like that would bo good luck for a princess.' "But I cannot leave you, father, and my hcartisinthe forest. I should not like to marry into the open land.' 'One may breathe the more freely in the open land, girl; though fohat 1 wouldn't leave the forest. Lctitpass. Marry Gottfried Schluck who lives close bv, and has gone down on his knees to you fivo times over.' Ho has been married twice, father; and no man loves a second wife.' 'Bah!' said the huntsman, scowling suddenly upn Iiis daughter's face. As you live, tell mo tho truth, Gertrude! What made you spoil my coffee?' Father!' 'What were your thoughts?' 'Nothing at least foolish. I was thinking only of this stocking that I am about, because it is so difficult to match my colwell, and I am gotting tired of red and green.' Tho old man suddenly roso and ßaid 'The count will bo here to-day or to-morrow, Gertrude. The girl's cheeks flushed as she replied, I know it. 'How, girl, how?' Francis, father, brought mo word lie was to como on St. Egidius' day.' 'Ah! does he?' murmured tho forester, pacing the room thoughtfully; 'ho comes on St. Egidius' day?'. 'I have made his bed,' tho girl said, 'and lighted his fire. Arnold helped me. But Arnold docs not treat mo as a littlo girl now, father, and you ' Again tho old man stopped with a stern faco before hor to ask: 'What wero your thoughts then, Gertrudo?' When, father?'

2,

When you spoilt my coffee. Oh father,' sho replied, sobbing, 'you arc too hard to me. You know that this is Egidius' day, and nineteen years ago my mother died, as you have set down i:i the Bible. And I thought how it was that she should die of a shot, and you never speak of it, and you even forbid me to speak of it to others.' The fixed glow of tho old man's eyes upon her checkod the girl's utterance. Silently he turned to take from the wall his cap and gun; then returning to her, drew her towards him, and said, in a hoarse voice 'hear me, child; I will believe you, and it is well. Do not be cr.ircr for that story; it is not good for your cars or for my ears. Why return to that? There might come up with it stuff that would sling you that would take away your sight and hearing. Only mind this. You think too much of somebody who should be as far from you as sun from moon, from whom you should fly as tho hare from tho wild cat. I tell you, girl, he is false. lie would betray you as surely as to-morrow comes after to-day. If you have done already more than think of him, God pity you, for' the man's utterance was choked; his bony hand was cold and damy 'you would be better with a millstone round vour neck, undor ten feet of water.' He turned suddenly away, whistled to his dog, and left her. Gertrude had never fioon her f ithcr's gloom so terrible; but she soon found a girl s rehet m tears. The forester went out into the wood, and sat for a long time motionless upon a grave-like mound of stones under an oak-tree, his gun resting on his shoulder, his dog's iiusc thrust inquiringly beneath his arm. He sat there till twilight, and went slowly homeward ' when the moon was rising. I rom the terA , i , 4l i , , i , race behind tho house he by chance raised . , , . , . , . , I Ins eves towards a lighted wmuow in the - A, . rn, i concr of tho tower. There was a lights , . . - ... . I burning in the room, a fire crackling, and i a young girl was weeping on a young man's E-houlder. - ' 'At last in my arms again, my forest flower?' Lord Coiint, L6rd Count!' said Gertrude, 'let hope be at an end between us. But I am still jTour Leonard, and you arc to be my little wife.' 4 My father frightens me; your mother will oppose you.' Mv mother! yes. To avoid her aner: wo must wait. But vour f flrr?' t,., . Ä i i Ii li . i ii t f i'ii i , , lum all her fears, which ho endeavored to ,i ... , . , i,i port. Glass breaks, and the young nobleman i.s sprinkled with the blood of Gertrude. She can utter but a single cry before she lies upon tho sofa, dead. A few minutes afterwards, tho old huntsman entered slowly to the dojr. Ducker! Ducker!' tho count shouted in agony, 'here is murder done! Your beautiful Gertrude shot! 'Ay, to be sure; sho will not stir aain said Ducker. 'It was a shot well aimed1 ill irli ilist frt . f 1y-k ls ! m, 1 , 1 , . , , n4This is your Gertrude, fathcr-my Gortrudel' 4 Your hi'dincss's Gertrude! I thought she was only mine!'

'Hois mad!' tho count cried. 'Ger-1 od bllt liis Evil Eye. And every trude! Beloved Gertrude! from whatever ' morning when the day broke I went bo!dpiarter the shot came, my vengeance on S )' into tno chamber and spoke couragcousthe assassin!' b to him, calling him by name in a hearty Whence the shot came,' said Ducker, to! ani1 inquiring how he passed the I will show you.' And ho led him to the j sht. So you see he would have boon a window. 4It came from beside yonder TY profound old man indeed to suspect

pine-tree. A man sat there ,vho suspected mischief Wretch! Madman! Take your hand from me! You have murdered your own daughter!' Take your hand also from me!' said Ducker. I havo powder and shot for your highness, if need be, in the other barnl. Wait, with your hand off, while I tell Vau on J,l ctorr There was a forester who loved a coun tcss. That he did secretly, and without; peaking, for ho thought much of the difii O ' culties in his way. However, he was prudent, and all ended well, and no man was tho wiser. ,But there was a count who loved tho wife of a forester; and that ended not well. For when tho forester discovered it, he took that w hich belonged to him. Aud tho count had a son, and the forester a daughter. The old man preached many a lesson about rank, and frivolity, and betrayers; but she loved that son, and he pretended oqual love for her. So, thus I took that which belonged to me.' Miserable assassin!' cried the count. Sho was mine, mine, mine! You toll me of sin and passion, but our hearts were beforo God, and our love was unspotted. We were bethrothed. I would have married her.' The old man pointed to tho body, and laughed aloud. 'Her? You should havo said that to her lady mother at tho castle yonder.'

To my mother? the countess!' The young count, with ashen face, recoiled, and hurrying out, called to his servants, and spurred his horse home to the castle. His mother, the countess, heard all from him. When she knew what the fierce huntsman had said, how dark a story he had told, and what had been the end of it, her limbs became stiff as with death; she spoke, only to pronounce her curso upon whatever foot stepped in that' huntsman's den of crime upon whatever man entered that wood to touch a stone of it. And then she died. Hans Ducker carried his daughter down, and buried her amoiw the flowers of his garJcn. And shoulJering his gun, hoj went out of his, house; and, except when he spoke a word to Peter beyond the mountains, never was seen more. The bowlings of a do t were heard for a few davs in the wood; they became weaker and weaker, until all was still. And from that hour the stillness was unbroken.

Ths Tell-Talc Heart. BY THE LATE EDGAR A. FOE. True! nervous very, dreadfully ner vous I had been and am: but will you say that I am mad! The disease had sharpened my senses; not destroyed; not dulled thenj. Above all was the senso of heariii'j acute. I heard all tilings in the Heaven and earth, and many things in hell. How then, am I mad? Hark! and observe how healthily, how calmly I can tell you the whole story. It is impossible to say how the idea first entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. I loved tho old man. lie had never wronged me. He had never given . 0 . , . , I. think it was his eve; yes, it was this! , , . , , One of hiseyes resembled that of a vulturG; J . , t . a pale blue eve with film around it. uhen1 . , , , . ever it tell, upon mo mv blood run cold; . . . ' . ana so, uy degrees, very gradually, I inaue up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever. No this is the poiat. You fancy rno mad. Madmen know Nothing. But von should have seen me. You should have soon how wisely I proceeded; with what precaution, with what foresight, with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than the wholo week b jfore I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his ' door and opened it; oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening suflij . . i. ' cieut for my head, I put in a dark lantern I closed, all closed, so that no light shone out, and I thrust in my head.' Oh, 3-011 would have laughed to tea how cunningly I thrust it in. I moved it slowly, very slowly, that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me a whole hour to i.-lace my head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. IIa! wculd a madman have been so w ise as this? Aud then, when my head was vre!! I in the room, 1 undid the lantern cautlously; oh, so cautiously! (for the hinges crackcd) I undid id it iust so much that a single ' thin ray fell upon tho vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights; every night Just at midnight; but I found the eye clos-; an so t was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vex-j ! that every night, just as tho clock struck twelve, I looked in upon him while h: slept. LTpon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watche's minute hand moves not more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own pow- ! orf üf eagacily. I could scarcely contain 1 A II .11 .1 A mv toolings ot triumph, io tniuK tiiai my toolings ot triumpr there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not oven to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at .... ,,,11 ft j the idea; and perhaps he hoard me, for h moved on the bd suddenly, aa if startled. Now you may think that 1 drew back; but no. His room was as black as pitch with thick darkness, for the shutters were close fastened for fear of robberies, and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily. I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon tho tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out "whose there?" 1 kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantimo I did not hear him lie down. Ho was still sitting up in the bed listening; just as I havo done, night after niMit, hearkening to the death rate he a in tho wall. Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It

(WMOIiE NO. 54-

was not a groan of pain or grief oh no! it wa3 the low, stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a knight, just at midnight, when all tho world slept, it has swelled up from my own bosom, deepening with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I f-av I knew it well. I knew that he Lad been Ivin-r awake ever cincc the first slight noise, when ho had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. Ho had been trying to fancy thtm causeless, but could not. IIa had been savin? to himself: "It is nothing but tho wind in tho chimney; it is only a rat crossin"" tho floor." or it is merely a cricket which has mada a single chirp." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions; but he had found it all in vain. All ix valv; because Death, in approaching him, had stalked with his black shadow befoie him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to fe-jl; although he neither saw nor heard; to rrri. tho presence of my head mithin the room. When I had waited a long tim very patiently, and withou hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a Ettle, a very, very littlo crevice ia the lantern. So I opened it; you cannot imagine how stealthilv; until, at length, a single dim rav, like the thread of a spider, shot out from the cievicc and fell upon the vulture eye. It was open, wide open, and I grew furious a3 I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness, all a dull blue, with a hedious veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bonis. But I could see nothing eko of the old man's face or person; for I had directed the ray, as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot. And now, have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acutenesso the sense? Now, I say, there came to my cars a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I kaew that sound well too. It increased my fury, as tho beating of a drum stimulates the soldier mto courage. But even yet I refrained and kept still. I hardly breathed. I held the lantern motioiilcss. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantimo the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder cverv instant. The old man's tcrror must have been extrcmed! It grew louder, I say louder every moment! do you mark me well? I havo told you that I am nervous, so I am. And r.ow at the dead hour of night, amid tho dreadful silence of o that old house, so strange a noise r.3 this excited mo to uncontrolable terror. Yet, for soir.c r.v'nutes longer I refrained r.nd stood st!.U. But the beating grew louder. I thought tho heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me; the sound would hi heard by a neighbor! Tho old man's hour had com! With a 1 ud veil, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once, once only. In an in j tar.t I dragged him to the floor, and pulled ! the heavy bed over him. I then smiled i gaily to find tho deed so far done. But many minutes the heartbeat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me, it would not be heard through tho wall: At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bod and examined the corpse. Yes, ho was stone dead. I placed my hand upon his heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was s-one dead. His eye would trouble mo no more. If you still think me mad, you will think so no longer, when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of nil I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and arms and lgs, I then took up three phinks from the llooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the whitings. I then replaced the boards so cleaverlv, eo cunningly, that no human eye; not even his, could have detected anything wronr There was nothing to wash out, no stain of any kind; no blood spot whatever. I had been too weary f jr that. A tub had caught nil; ha! ha! When I had made nr. end of thesa !&bcn it was four o'clock, etill dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there cam a knock at tho street door. I went down to open it with a light heart; for what hid 1 now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, a3 othcers of the police. A shrifk had been heard by a neighbor duiin" the night: suspicious of foul phy had I cn aroused; information had Ken lodged tho police oflice, and they, the occf? had boon deputed to search the premises. I smiled; for what h?.d 1 t fear I bad the gentlemen welcome, Tha shriek, I said, was my own in a dresm TL old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the houe. I bado them search soarch well h'4i ( Concluded on fourth pift)