The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE HAUNTED ROMES1EAD. 29 a no a Wr until at length it was given up and the friends retired. Rachel left her bed and came into mine, where she lay and trembled. Scarcely fifteen minutes of peace and silence passed ere the lock of both doors flew back, and the doors swung open. Rachel began screaming; the occu- pants of the opposite clamber started up, exclaiming in every variety of in- terjection. |! arose and donned my double wrapper, and put my feet in slippers, to go and procure restora- tives, for Rachel had fallen into spasms. “For heaven’s sake, what is the mat- ter, Agnes?” inquired my brother, who had put on his dressing-gown and come to the door. ) “Oh, the Lord only knows!” I had seized a bottle of cologne from the dressing-table and began to deluge the face and hands of Rachel, while my brother went and brought his candle and put it within side of our door. “Do go and wake up Mrs. Legare, John; 1 can do nothing for Rachel; I never saw anybody in _ hysterics be- fore, if this is hysterics!” said I, feel- ing both frightened at the condition and angry at the weakness of my pa- tient. But even while I spoke, Mr. How- ard, who, during this time had been hastily dressing himself, went down- stairs to the old house in search of as- sistance. The family were speedily aroused. Mr. and Mrs. Legare hurried into the new house. The lady herself entered the chamber where Rachel, as often as her eyes opened in the haunted chamber, fell into new spasms. “She will not recover until she is i es from this, Mrs. Legare,” I BA). “Perhaps not; assist me to put her wrapper on, and we will take her down, and lay her on the parlor sofa,” my hostess replied. And after we had dressed our pa- tient, we carried her downstairs, where the fire was still smoldering, and only needed replenishment. When the wood was brought and thrown on, and the fire blazed up brightly, lighting and warming the whole room, and the shutters were unclosed, and the rising sun smiled in upon us all, I felt that the gladsome scene was enough to put to flight all the ghosts in Hades, and all the super- stitious terrors that ignorance is heir to. I almost began to doubt that I was haunted; and would have done so but for the sombre and disturbed countenance of my host, who, as soon as Rachel Noales was soothed and put to sleep on the sofa, turned to us and inquired: “Now, my friends, will you be so good as to explain the cause of your disturbance?” “A mere trifle, sir,” said my brother, brusquely; “the house is haunted.” “You, of course, do not speak se- riously; you cannot credit such ab- surdities.” “My dear sir, I never believed in ghosts until within the last two nights; but now, with such evidences before me, I should be the most un- believing of infidels to refuse cre- dence,” said my brother, with a mix- ture of gravity and banter in his tone that made it impossible to think him in earnest. “Will you be so kind, Mr. Howard, as to enlighten us?” inquired Mr. Le- gare, turning toward that gentleman. “Since you desire me to do so, my dear sir. Well, then, for the two nights we have passed beneath your very hospitable and delightful roof CORAICL OOO <S (CO) a oe Stent aan a Ee TT