The Ghost of Guir House

loset stairs. He had sat for more than an hour before his bedroom fire, after bidding Ah Ben good-night, to make sure that the i

ic smell of pine and fir; the distant murmur of falling water; and the assonant whispering of wind in the tree tops, had all become strangely fascinating to him, more so than such things had ever been before. "Never was a house so situated, so lost to the world, so tightly held in the lap of unregenerate nature," thought Paul; "no laugh of child, no shout of man, no bark of dog, nor bellowing beast

ary to use extreme caution to avoid breaking through the more rotten ones. He had not descended more than a dozen, when there was a terrible crash above his head, and he found himself in absolute darkness. The trap had fallen as upon the previous night, he having forgotten to fasten it back, and the wind had blown out his candle. Henley hastened back up the stairs, fearful lest the noise had waked some one in the house, and without relighting his candle threw himself upon the bed to await developments. After listening for some minutes, and hearing nothing, he beca

ok a fresh grip upon his hinge. Backward and forward he worked his lever, and with each turn the old bolt slipped back a little. At last he could see the end of it, and then it was clear of the frame entirely. He had expected no difficulty in opening the door when the hinge was once slipped, but to his surprise it was still immovable. He pulled and tugged and pushed, but it would not budge; then suddenly, just as he was about to give up, it came tumbling down upon him, so that he was barely able to save it from falling against the stairs with a terrible crash, but fortunately caught it upon his shoulder, and lowered it to the floor without a sound. Imagine his surprise in going to what he now believed to be the open portal, to find that the doorway had been bricked up from within, and that the door itself had simply been the back of a solid wall. Naturally, he was disappointed at finding himself no nearer the inner chamber than before. A careful examination of the masonry showed that the work of bricking up the entrance had undoubtedly been done from the other side, and after the door had been closed and bolted. This was evidenced from the fact that there was no mortar next the door, against the smooth inner surface of which the bricks had been closely laid. Henley worked his hinge between some of the looser joints, and found, just as he expected, that the mortar had been laid from within. By degrees he managed to wedge one of the bricks out of its place, and then pulled it bodily from the wall. The inner surface was plastered over. He tried another, which he got out more easily, and it told the same tale. Then he went to work in earnest, and had soon dug a hole large enough to admit his body. Leaning over into the aperture, with his candle at arm's length, the place looked dark and empty, with faint masses of lighter shadow. Then, with a certain indescribable awe, Henley commenced crawling through the breach. Stepping upon an earthern floor, he found himself in a vault-like chamber-damp, mouldy, and foul of atmosphere. He glanced hurriedly about, and then turned

t of the

there could be no mistake about it; the picture on the left was a portrait of Dorothy herself. Henley rubbed his eyes, and looked again and again; he could not believe their evidence, but they had not deceived him. He tried to make himself believe that it was the likeness of some ancestor, to whom she had a strange resemblance; but, despite the look of pain, it could be no other than Dorothy, and indeed this very expression helped to heighten the likeness, for had he not seen a similar expression at the breakfast table? The longer he gazed at it, the more convinced he became that this was a portrait of Miss Guir. At last, thoroughly mystified, he turned away, intending to leave this grewsome chamber of horrors forever; but now for th

though serious face was a direct rebuke to any distrust he might have entertained; and he even doubted if she had any knowledge of the state of things he had discovered in the vault. This, of course, only added to the mystery; nor was Mr. Henley's self-esteem fortified by the memory of how uns

house. There was an earnestness in everything that she did, quite unusual in a girl of her age, and at times her manner was grave and

than this; won't we?" she said, looking wist

ered; and then, hoping to elicit an explanatory answer, ad

s always been gloomy

ion to judge; but it will always be the sweetest place on

you must not for

d anxious concerning

ill it, I am your slave; but, as I told you before, you exert such a strange power over me t

n me; for, O Paul! I was just beginning to hope that in you I had found a friend who would never shrink a

d, "but tell me why are other peop

fferent-so diffe

"else I should never have come to lo

im, but sat gazing at nothing, with countenance

you, Dorothy, you seem such a

ed with a sigh, "No one ever has understoo

id of you, like the others, will y

thers are; why s

ul thought he detected a little, just a little, of the same expres

inquired, looking around

ed so dreadfully in ear

not be startled by so

m only human,

e was something else. No

searching her face for an explanation. "O

cted, melancholy manner, and sincerity of expression, both attracted and perplexed Paul, and kept him constantly at work endeavoring to solve her character and form some conception of the mystery of her life. He had not yet had even the courage to ask her if Ah Ben were her father, dreading to expose himself as an impostor and be ordered from the place, which, despite his discovery of the p

andered over the vari-colored leaves, side by side; "it i

because I am avoided; because I have not a friend far nor near

imple change of locality wou

ring, and then, looking down upon th

t that

othy?" he asked

ied without looking up. "Oh, Paul,

d congenial friends in that position in life in which God or nature has placed us, how can we hope to make them in another? Do you not think

or nature ever intended that I should live this life. Oh, Paul, believe me when I tell you that I know w

of heaven and earth should never come between them. So different was she from any girl that he had ever seen, that her very eccentricity bound him to her with a magic s

not perhaps in such luxury as you are accustomed to, but I can give you

and enthused by the girl's

hinder us," she replied serio

ot knowing ho

Paul earnestly. "I thought as mu

Dorothy, her eyes stil

you mean to say that I should oppose

ance up at him, and allowing the very faintest, sadde

ill explain what you mean, but it would be

do not know me; that you neither know who nor what I am. If I did not lo

returned to