e at Vine Cottage, entirely unaware of the movement, was
enjoying the twilight in playing soft airs upon the piano.

To one uninformed, a pow-wow of Indians might have been supposed to be
going on. There were shrieks and wails, and screams of laughter, and
cries of terror. There were threatenings, scoldings, and coaxings. Were
all the grammars in the world made up of interjections they could
scarcely have contained the list that rent the air, between the two
Mississippi shores, upon that eventful night. The heavens were still
above, though they might have been supposed to have disappeared
entirely, so loudly and fervently were they invoked.

"Why, it is enough to raise the dead," exclaimed a solitary traveler, a
stranger in town, perambulating a neighboring bluff.

As the vociferating army neared the opposite shore, there was a
momentary silence; that breathless silence which precedes the storm.
Then uprose such a terrific scream, such a commingled shout of horror,
as only frightened women can give vent to. This brought men, women and
children in throngs to the scene. Some leaped into boats, some walked in
to the rescue. The majority awaited ashore the unfolding of events.

Mrs. Sharp had caught her foot in something as she was about to ascend
the opposite bank. In attempting to save herself, she fell with her
hands upon the soggy substance that had intercepted her. She was a
thorough-going woman, and determined to ascertain what lay like a log in
her path, the water scarcely covering it. She prevailed upon two or
three to assist her in dragging it upward partially to the dim
light--when lo! within a saturated, slimy bed-comforter was a human
form! It was brought across to Windsor, officials summoned, and, despite
decomposition and fearful change, recognized to be the remains of
Thornton Rush! There was great sensation, and a faint revival of
whispers about his having been spirited away to his death by Popish
emissaries; but these soon died, for want of breath, as the Irishman
would say.

The death of Mr. Rush was, by the majority, accounted for naturally. In
his delirium he had strayed he knew not whither. He had grasped the
heavy quilt tightly around him, which, held firmer in the clasp of the
dead, had filled with water, and prevented the body from rising.

It seemed unaccountable that when the river was dragged it should not
have been discovered: are not mysteries, however, every day transpiring
before our eye