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.
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