floating in the creek; his eyes wide open,
staring horribly. The drowned man had but the day before made known the
fact that he had seen the wraith of the marshman's daughter. Still
another poor fellow had been taken, raving and violent, to the asylum.
Numerous additional instances, equally as harrowing, were cited by Uncle
Ashby, whose fervent belief in all that he said was rather impressive
than otherwise.

"I listened patiently to the old man until he finished. By that time the
storm had ceased and the sky, suddenly clearing in the west, revealed
the last rays of the setting sun, which brightened the room for a few
moments. I laughed softly when Uncle Ashby went out, and all that I had
heard of the ignorance, credulity, and superstition of the Southern
negro came into my mind. I sat for a while, musing in the gathering
dusk, and then went up to my room.

"The lamps had not been lighted in that portion of the house, and it was
quite dark. The atmosphere was stifling, as all the windows had been
closed at the approach of the storm. I raised them, and the cool, damp
air, heavy with the odor of jessamine, floated into the room. Elizabeth,
evidently greatly fatigued by the day's exertions, had thrown herself
upon a lounge at the foot of the bed. She was in her dressing-gown, and
her face was framed in masses of wavy brown hair which had become
uncoiled in her restless movements. I hesitated to awaken her, but as
sounds from below indicated the near approach of dinner I called her--at
first softly, and then in louder tones, an indefinable fear stealing
over me as I did so. I approached the couch, and tremblingly placed my
hand upon her forehead.... Ah, God, I cannot tell the rest!

"Seven years have dragged their weary length along since I lost my dear
young wife and the light of my life was extinguished forever! Now, all
is darkness! darkness!

"Subsequent investigation, supported by the testimony of well-known and
thoroughly reliable residents of the country, confirmed in every
particular the truth of Uncle Ashby's story. A visit to the marshman's
cottage some days after my wife's death revealed a ruinous mouldering
habitation, in the midst of a wilderness of weeds and vines. A mournful,
desolate spot, shunned and avoided by all for the past twenty years, and
yet had I not seen----" Tippett paused abruptly, with bowed head and
eyes tear-dimmed.

"Here, old chap, take this," said Colonel Manysnifters, hastily pouring