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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 1, 1885)
THE WEST SHORE. 17 A GHOSTLY FESTIVAL. I. , IX a utjul but picturesque room of a small house it was little more than a cottage on the skirts of the New Forest, sat two persons. The one was a handsome man, still young, but bearing on his face the traces of sorrow and care, and an air of deep, but not ungracefulmolan choly. On his knees lay an opon lottor, which hud evi dently produced a painful impression on his mind; for his eyes, raised to the coiling, had a look of heavy trouble. By liis side, on a chair drawn olosoly up to his, was a lovely woman, whose charms were enhanced rather thnn diminished by a mien which approached, without roach ing, the matronly. She had laid her hand gently and fondly on his Bhouldorj and she gazed on him witli evi dent uneasiness. " Urban dear," she said, aftor a long pause, " como to yourselfl Surely there is nothing in this lotter which can tend to increase your sorrow." "Nothing!" exclaimed the man, with much bitter ness, and without lowering his eyes to the fond being nestling by his side. " Nothing! Cannot you divine what the world will say? Have I not boon accusod of the murder of my cousin Emeric, for tho purinwe of clearing off one obstacle in the way of my accession to the Ashford title and estates? And now tho old steward writes to me that Sir Randolph's only son is dendl What will the world say? I ask. Malice and foul scandal will declare that I have contrived to get rid of the boy in order to remove the last bar to my inheritance on my cousin's death. When I assort my innocence, shall I be believed any more than I was when Einorio was so foully assassiuuted? No! the damning stigma will cling more closely to mo still. What will avail that seclusion to which I have doomed myself ? Will my retirement from tho accursed world of calumny and falsehood afford me any justification? No! the lying hounds will point tho finger of scorn at me more surely than ever! They will howl against Urban Ashford, the murderor, with still louder denunciation; and you can ask how this letter adds to the bitterness of my lot, you you Muriel, my wife!" "I am sorry to have distressed you, Urban," said Muriel Ashford, fondly, as she drew away hor chair, and rose. "I only thought to comfort you. Rut I was wrong I was foolish forgive me!" "Forgive me Muriel!" said tho husband, springing up. " I did not wish to sjHrnk harshly to you you, who have taken the miserable misanthrope to lo your hus band you, who have loved him so affoctiouatoly you, who have so often chased the dark cloud from his mind, as David sxthed the soul of Haul" And he took hor in his arms and embraced her fondly. Then, turning away, he exclaimed, bitterly, " Perish tho inheritance of Ash ford! Ferish the very name!" As he spoke a little girl, of about nine years of age, entered the room with an old, curiously-bound volume in Ler hand. She was a strange-looking child, but very beautiful, with that air of fresh innocence on Ler face, and that sweet smile on hor lips! Thore was a peculiarly wild look about her large dark grey eyes, and a general aspect of wturilm'Ha about her whole pormm, wliiuit wum hoightonod by the long fair hair that swept down her back and floated lightly in the air as she ran into, the room. " Why, mamma, you have been orying," said tho child, checking hor first impulse. Muriel Ashford shook hor head, smiling. "And you, too, papa, are lwking so strangely why did you say " Ferish Ashford," when it is our name?" Urban did not answer. "'Tis vory odd," continued tho little girl, dreamily, "very curious." " What is curious, Edna?" said hor father. " Why! I was in your littlo study, papa; and some how I don't know how it was, I was all alone in the room a hand I could not see seemed to lead me to one shelf, where was this old volume. I took it down and opened it It was all about our family. So I read with curiosity; and presently I found these strango linos." Tho child placed tho book open on a table, and road with peculiar emphasis: If Ali fortl Main prowl A'lifonl'a nam, Mint Anlifnril ilt In Jwlmnonl Hull, From AJifircl lul tit doom of iKaow Oil Anliford (load hall Mini; fall F "What does it all mean, pnpa? You know I am a big girl now; and T can understand most tilings; but I can't understand this." Urban Ashford started, as if somo long forgotten droam had suddenly flashed over his brain. "It is only an old family song," ho said "It means nothing; it is mere nonsense a thing to laugh at!" "No, papa, that cannot 1m" was Edna's decided reply. " It has to do with our namo; and it is priuted in a book." The father smiled. " I might have told you jestingly, Edna, that all which is printed in a hook is not worth heeding. Rut I will explain to you that this strange distich, which had long since gone out of my mind, refers to a family legend of tho Ash fords. It is said that when any ono of the family has misls'lmvod himself, the dead ancestors all apMar iu tho groat hall of the mansion on some holy eve, and acquit or condemn tho person accused of misdeed; and thus the place of meeting is generally culled the Judg ment Hall. Rut, of course, my dear child, you know that this is but a foolish fable an old tide, not fit even to frighten children. There are no such things as ghosts." " Why do you say so, papa?" cried the child, with an air of tho most solemn conviction. "I seo them very often. They come round my bod at night and look at mo so pleasantly and sing mo the sweetest lullabies. Rut they don't frighten mo. They always seem to me like kind, good friends." The father and mother darted glances of anxiety at ono another. Rut neither of them ventured to controvert the strange assertion of their child. ' Edna returned again to tho book, and seemed to be abttorlwd in tho legend.
