The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

ROSSITOR HOUSE. 184 | - ci a ~ Jewned ap the fugitives; they had hired | gan—new, rather than the old continued. a boat for vell’s Harbor, ten miles farther | went to Europe, Rossitor House, one to ; shore, and embarked an hour before | visitors, stood up among its poplars, like a . mao Midnig with two seaman and Mrs. Rossiter’s | great gray shines n, by the stormy, restless ae aid, Peyond that nothing was known; | sea, and there we lived our quiet, uneven‘tul 4, but the daylight, perhaps, might bring further | life with the old family servants, Ada and J. ie sctiuings. j [ took no note of time; it was of little need in * A flight across that wild, tossing bayin the | lives marked like ours, The summer birds | a darkness! God pity them!” I thought. came and went across the sea ‘The long, low 6—-—S—C«W loom and expectant, in the still dawn, the | marshes grew verdant in the spring time, then 7 eld house stood waiting. rhe poplars stretched | faded, sere an yellow, again and again. A bd a forth their skeleton arms in warning toward | walk along the sandy shore, some row acro-s | tbhesea. Then—ah, what then ¢ the treacherous bay, some gift of fruit or | | {wo fishermen, crossing the beach at early | flowers from the kindly hamlet people, and the | daybreak, found, washed up amiJ itssand and long hours of patient thought and study in the | — seaweed, a scarlet rosary, with a cornelian still rooms of Rossitor House, made up the | 4 ue = cos8 han from it. The sea had given | sum of weeks, and months, and years, Tie back the Ss child at my side was growing tallerevery day. , Her cheek lay pillowed on her hand, they } { had, to, auother warning in the streaks of told me—that tender. snow-white hand! About | gray beginning to show in the hair about my 4 dead, drowned face dripped and clung the | temples. \ arenghed golden hair, Th» dark eyes were| Now and then news came from over the sea, | closed, the passionate was at rest. 5o they | He was wandering farther and farther away, brought her back to R ssitor House, lone, uneasy spirit, seeking the rest and for: judges all. It was enough to know that | yetfuluess he could not fiud. Iknew only too all error, all crime were now ae: The | well how the goad stung. past, with whatever [t held of tight or dark-| ‘ When papa comes back,” Ada would say, yy «=Cts down the ; mto a higher and a holier | looking at me with wistful eyes; *‘do you | | ness, had hand, judgments are not ours. His|think be will come, Miss Darrow? Poor wercy is not our mercy, papa!” tremulously. [asked no questions. Perhaps they had My heart ached for her, No, I did not think shared a common doom—perhaps he had _ es- he would ever come. | It was the last day of a long and lovely F eaped, In the dull, dreary apathy succeeding hours of torture, i scarcely cared to know } autumn, 1 was coming up from the shore in @ F| which, for in eiter case he was forever dead | cold, leaden twilight, my gray dress sweeping tume. It had been a stroke as sharp au. | over fallen leaves, their dead, crisp, rustle be- sudden as lightning. One, moment had suf-| neath my feet, and far off, in the west, one ficed to strip my life of all that makes life worth | streak of tawny red thrust, like a bloody hand, the saciiae-all love, all trust, all happiness through the rain-dark clouds. Inaclump of | gone likea breath! [ looked at my gray-| evergreens, standing upfrom the beach,gloomy white face with a thrill of horror. lt coulu and tall, was the grave of Agnes Rossitor. : not be mine. Years had passed over it, not | There was a broken shaft of purest marble at its head, with the one word, ‘‘ Agnes,” cut deep in its whiteness, and the dead shrubbery rustled with a pliiative, solemn sound about . the en*losure. The gate was aswing. I went turough and stood at the head of the grave. Oh, passionate, ill-fated heart, doomed so sae, one A — hours. “There is nothing more, ” I said. Yes. Itis a wide world, ‘the labors are many, thelaborersfew, My duty came to me, even while [dreamed all my earthly duties done. “They had laid Agnes Rossitor away on the : ) lonely shore, It wasthe nightafter the burial. | early! and low the mocking voice of the surt | when that wronged and sorrow-stri‘ken man | came booming up the beach. The wind surged led to me his little motherless child, in her | turou -h the evergreens like a pitiful, dying mourning frock, with the large tears standing |cry. Weak and weary with an ee en 1 in her solemn eyes. sadness, I leaned pee the brokeu shaft and | “Tam going abroad, Miss Darrow,” he said, | dripped a sprig of holly upon the grave. quietly, ** [ may not return for years—Imay| ‘ Ruth! ” said a voice, never return, There is no one to whom Ican| It might have come from the grave beneath, confide the care of this chil, unlessit be your- | it was so low and deep. I started up. A tall, self. I trust and respect you. | shall feel | dark shadow stood between me and that streak secure of her welfare if [ know you are watch-\| of tawny red flashing through the evergreels ing over it, You can remain here, or you can | —the shadow of a man, Ina dark cloak, stund- choose a happier home, haunted by no associa- | ing there like a statue. tions,” ‘* Ruth!” once more. “« T will remain here,” I answered. Can the sea give up its dead? M brain “ And you accept the charge .? whirled, I caught blindly at the cold burial I took the little hand of the child, as it came | stone, as he lifted his cap and stood there be- nestling softly into my own, and looked at his |fore me in the dying light. It was Grant grave, sorrowful face. Wyvil. “« May God deal by mie as I deal by her,” Ruth, do you know me ?” Zs] =a SB Ek GST a aS =e Se ge Bes " cy lean ee ie . a 1 Meo Ss ae | — 0 ERE ee - ‘ a “Tam satisfied,” he said, simply, drawing a Thac low grave at my feet had been made "i 4 deep breath, five years before, Slowly from its sere brown H % So he weut away; 80, also, my new duty be-! outline | litted my eyes to his face. Chauged! ' ss bs a GONE DOO <S.COlng)