The Argosy — page 334: what you’re looking at

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

314 Nelly Devitt's Ghost. THu ARGoxy, 2, 1868, there so industriously all night long. That was where I began on a bright, sunshiny winter day to make my search. Not a scratch or spot was discernible in all the room ; the bricks were bright and red, as if freshly painted ; the plaster was clean and smooth; not a speck to be seen anywhere. The other rooms had never a sound in them, yet I went up stairs to the broad upper chamber where poor Nelly Devitt raved her life away, and there, strange to say, the hearth was scratched and the bricks displaced. I had never noticed it particularly, before, but now I saw that every brick had been removed from its place sepa- rately, and only replaced at random. I thought I had found out at last the great question—what does it mean? and hastily took them all out to search beneath them. I found nothing—not even a scrap or shred of anything; and so, after examin- ing every crack and crevice of the whole place from garret to cellar, I gave it up—and the sounds went on. Fainter and fainter every night, it seemed to me, or else I was becoming used to it. I cannot tell exactly how that may be, but I know that I was only hoping and pray- ing that they might disappear altogether before Will’s return—for he was gone now over two months. But his ship came in one morning, and word was brought to us that it was in the bay. I can’t tell you how happy I was; and Jenny was almost as glad as I. Both together we fairly danced for joy, when a lad came up from the first boat that came ashore to say that Will had a better offer from a Liverpool captain, and had sent me the fruit he pro- mised, with his best love; but I was not to expect to see him for three months, for he had gone over to Amenica, and would bring me back a purse of gold. I don’t believe all the gold that ever was coined could have paid me for the bitter pain and disappointment this news gave me. I felt sick at heart, and it may be my mind was a little troubled with what I had heard in the old house; but this blow just knocked me over. Jane unpacked the fruit, and was so busy selling and putting up packages that she had no time to sympathize with me; I was fit for nothing, and could only wander about the house, trying to work, with the heart taken out of it. That night I lay awake crying silently, for I was sorely afraid that America would ruin my poor Will, I had seen so much of its doings on gay, good-hearted fellows like him. I don’t believe I thought of the noises at all, but I remembered afterwards that there was not a sound in the house but the children’s breathing. When daylight came, I was glad to get up and go down stairs with- out making a stir to rouse the rest, for I felt better moving about than lying still, grieving. ‘There was no water in the house, and before I made the fire, I took the pail and ran down to the well for it. I should have to!d you about this well. It was a curious old place, comicloooks (CO) 7 _