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The eventful day at length arrived. The numerous guests,
comprising nearly the whole adult population of the place, assembled
to witness the ceremony, which was to dispose of their
fair and almost worshipped neighbor to one, who, in spite of all
the disadvantages attending his origin, had gained, by his rare
qualities of head and heart, a scarcely less enviable place in their
esteem. Old Jude, who had awaited the day with a feverish
anxiety and impatience, which was nearly alike unaccountable
to the family and all others cognizant of his late singular conduct,
now seemed to hail the hour of consummation with almost
puerile delight; though it was observed, and afterwards remembered,
that as he moved restlessly round among the company,
with his enfeebled gait, and thin, pale, and ghastly features
peering from the snow-white locks which hung trembling over
them, he was frequently lost in deep fits of abstraction, from
which he would arouse himself with a forced glee, and that a
sort of unnatural excitement marked his appearance in all his
conversation and movements on the occasion. At the appointed
hour, the bride and bridegroom made their appearance; when,
amidst the blessings and kind wishes of all, the lovely orphan
was united with her handsome and gifted lover. The ceremony
and the congratulations, that immediately followed, were scarcely
over, before Old Jude came forward and presented Lot with
a thick, heavy package of papers, consisting as he averred, and,
as in truth, it afterwards appeared, of deeds, transferred notes
and other legal evidences of all the property to which Lucy was
entitled, accompanied with a written statement acknowledging
that it took all he possessed to make good her fortune, and
throwing himself wholly on the generosity of the young couple
for the future support of himself and family. Lot courteously

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received the package, and without examining it, carelessly placed
it on the sill of the open window beside which he was sitting;
while the old man, fetching a deep sigh, as if some fearful load
was removed from his mind, took a seat by the side of his niece,
and appeared more tranquil and happy than he had done for
many weeks before—a circumstance which the former noticed
with heartfelt pleasure, and drew from it an augury of what she
so ardently desired, that her uncle was indeed about to settle
down a better and happier man. But all her pleasing anticipations
and kindly wishes were destined to be repaid the next hour
only with disappointment and aggravated sorrow. As the gratified
guests, after partaking the sumptuous entertainment with
which they had been regaled, and spending a short time in innocent
hilarity, were beginning to depart, Old Jude went out into
the yard to look to his servant, who was engaged in bringing up
to the door, as fast as they wanted, the horses and carriages of
the company. Shack, who had thus far performed his duties
with great alacrity and cheerfulness, now, as his master appeared
in the yard and began to order him about, suddenly became
so dilatory, sullen and perverse as to exhaust the old man's patience,
and cause him at last to break out, as was his former
wont, in abusive epithets, which the other seemed in no humor
to bear; for he retorted with great boldness, plainly intimating,
that he was a slave no longer. Astonished at such words and
bearing from one, who was an indented servant, and who had
ever before borne his petulance and abusive language submissively,
the enraged master turned fiercely upon him and exclaimed:

“Impudent scoundrel, begone! from this moment, you quit my
house and employment forever!”

“It's a bargain!” cried Shack, bluntly, and with dogged composure,
while he looked round on the company, now mostly
drawn to the door by the collision, as if appealing to them to
witness the compact, “it's a bargain—exactly what I wanted—
so now, old man, we are quits in law as well as friendship. But
before I go, jest for the fun of the thing, I'll whisper a word in
your ear.”

He then walked deliberately up to the other, and, as he had

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proposed, whispered something in his ear; when he sprang back,
and, with a look of malicious triumph, awaited the effect of his
secret communication.

And that effect was soon visible. The old man, after standing
mute an instant with a staggered and perplexed expression,
suddenly started, like one on whose mind some exciting truth has
unexpectedly broken, and a look of overpowering chagrin settled
on his countenance, but was quickly succeeded by one of unmitigated
wrath and maddening concern. Hurling with fury his
cane at the head of the devoted Shack, he turned eagerly towards
the window on which the package he had given Lot was still
lying:—

“The papers—the papers!” he gasped, rushing forward
towards the object of his concern with one hand extended out for
the grasp.

But just as his half clutched fingers were fastening on the
desperately coveted prize, he suddenly stopped short,—a change
passed over his countenance,—his arm sunk nerveless by his
side, and straightening back and glaring horridly around him, he
pitched forward to the earth with the blood gushing from his
mouth and nostrils. The violence of his emotions had ruptured
a blood vessel, and the next moment the spirit of Old Jude Hosmer
had winged its flight to its doubtful destination in another
world.

We must task the imagination of the reader to picture the
scene which followed among the family and guests on the awful
dispensation that had thus turned their festivities into mourning—
the painful sensations of the young couple, when all that could
be known and inferred, respecting the situation of the property
and its connection with the old gentleman's death, was discovered—
the great stir made by the event on the community around—
the wild stories that naturally arose out of it among the ignorant
and superstitious, and the baffled attempts of the intelligent
to account for a great part of what had happened: For,
after all the circumstances, attending Old Jude's strange conduct
before and at the time of his death, were known, much still remained
enveloped in mystery which none could penetrate. Shack
who had been seen to whisper to the deceased the secret

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communication which produced such instant effect on him, was
often asked what he had communicated on that occasion, and
whether he could throw any light on the subject, but always in
vain: He would either doggedly refuse all explanation, or turn
off the subject with some odd evasion. And thus the whole affair,
after having been, for some months, the talk of the country
around as one of the greatest wonders of the day, at length passed
into a legend of the marvelous and supernatural, whose foundation
in fact none were ever found to gainsay. Lot, now that the
fear of the old man's power was removed by his death, was soon
furnished with all the evidence which would have been required
to substantiate his wife's claim to all the property, had such been
needed. But it was not. The deeds and other instruments
made out and left by the deceased were found to convey legally
the whole estate, which now, by common consent, after a liberal
provision was made for the widow and her insane married
daughter before named, passed into the hands of the young
couple—the business and all transactions connected with it at
length resumed their wonted channel, although the public at
large soon had reason to rejoice in the change of the ownership
and possession of a property, by the management of which so
many interests were affected.

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It was something like seven years after the concluding incidents
of our story, that Shadrack Rogers, who had been retained
in the employment of Lot Fisher and his wife, and who had
been so generously rewarded by them for his good conduct, as to
enable him to buy a farm for himself, announced his intention of
emigrating to the far West. And on the morning of his departure,
after he had bid adieu to his still almost idolized young mistress,
and slung his knapsack for the start, he sought her husband,
who was writing in his library—

“Well, Squire Fisher,” he said in his usual independent manner,
as he entered the room, “now for the few words you said
you wanted with me in private, before I started; for you see I
am all equipped for over the hills and far away.”

“Ay, ay, but be seated, Shadrack; for as I said, I wish for a
little talk with you,” said Fisher, “and in the first place let me
ask what you propose to do out west?”

“Get rich, and then be judge or something”—replied Shack
very gravely—“Perhaps if they keep you in Congress long
enough—say twenty years—and I guess they will by the strong
way they have just given you your first election—perhaps I'll
meet you there.”

“On my word, Shack, I don't think you will ever have to regret
not having set your mark high enough,” responded Fisher,
laughing heartily. “But after all, if you go on picking up information
and improving as fast as you have since living with
me, you may yet be found in public life. I have no doubt you
have native capacities enough for almost anything—Squire Stacy
has often said you were one of the shrewdest chaps he ever
knew.”

“The squire and I are tolerable friends,” said Shack composedly.

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

“Yes,” rejoined the other, “and that remark brings me to the
question which I would ask you in confidence, and which, as
you are now going out of the country, I hope you will candidly
answer.”

“What is it?” asked Shack, looking a little uneasy.

“It relates,” replied Fisher, “to the singular change in old Mr.
Hosmer's conduct, which so speedily brought about my marriage
with his niece, and the no less singular circumstances attending
his death. Now I was always satisfied, Shack, that you could
throw some light on this mystery, if you chose; and your answer
to one question, very probably, may explain the whole. What
was it you whispered to him, that produced such a terrible revulsion
of feeling, the violence of which, in his then weakened
state, it was thought, occasioned the rupture that killed him?”

“Why, you can't have any suspicions, Esquire Fisher, that I
intended it should, or supposed it could, have any such effect?”
answered Shack with an air of concern.

“O, certainly not; but what was it?”

“You don't intend to make use of it against me, no how?”

“No, no,—go on.”

“And you wont tell of it—not even to your wife?”

“I am as anxious as you, Shack, that the matter should be
buried in oblivion. But I wish to know for other reasons than
mere curiosity—fear nothing and proceed.”

“Well, I just hinted to him who the Ghost was, that's all.”

“Ah!—the ghost—who was it?”

“That can't be spoken—but I can guess how it was, perhaps,
if that will do.”

“I will hear it and then judge.”

“Well you know that the old man and I slept in rooms that
joined, and our beds stood abreast against opposite sides of the
petition, in which there was a door, that had long been nailed
up, right between us. Now the ghost might have found out,
somehow, that the lower panel of that door had become so
shrunk that it could be pinched out with a jack-knife, leaving a
hole under the beds, where a chap—say of about my size—could
have crept through, put back the panel, risen up from the floor
with a sheet round him, delivered his message from the other
world, unlocked the old man's door, and have been off to bed

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and a snoring, before a frightened man would be apt to rally to
try to catch him.”

“I see—I see—The ghost stands revealed. But perhaps you
can guess, also, what that message was, which you think it
might have delivered?”

“Well, I fancy it didn't say much, the first time, but only
groaned and complained of being disturbed in the grave at a
brother's doings. The second time it did the same, and made its
appearance, without saying anything, trusting that would be
enough. But finding it want, and that the old man was kinder
defying it by fixing on the big lock, it came again and talked
like a book, giving him forty days to make all right in, or he
would be called for. Well, I don't know which was the most
scart and worried about this last visit, the old man or the ghost,
for it was that which turned the old man's hair so white, and so
nearly upset him. But it fixed him about right, and the business
moved after that to some purpose, as you yourself know.”

“A strange and cunning plot,” said Fisher thoughtfully; and
I can hardly wonder that it produced, with the operation of a
guilty conscience, such an effect. But what induced you to divulge
this to the old gentleman?”

“Why,” replied Shack, “I had got a peep into that bunch of
papers he gave you, and found all right. Well, as you was married
and had the papers in your pocket, as I supposed, I thought
every thing placed beyond a rip up; and when the old man called
me names, and ordered me to quit, I was tempted to humble
him on the spot; so I up and told him—sooner than I intended,
for it was agreed I should tell him before long, lest it should
shorten his days.”

“Agreed! agreed with whom?” eagerly asked the other,
catching at that word.

“Why, I didn't say anything about any whom,” said Shack, a
good deal disconcerted.

“No,” persisted Fisher, “but you used a word that has given
me a clue to another part of the secret, which I was particularly
anxious to learn. And you need not deny, Shack, that you have
had the assistance of a well-known, shrewd manager, in this affair.”

“Well, well,” replied Shack, with the chagrined air of one
who has unintentionally committed himself; “suppose a certain

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man did help at the planning, and perhaps write off the words
for the ghost to use on the occasion, it only proves that two heads
were better than one, if one was a sheep's head, as the old man
used to call me. But you needn't ask me to say another word
about this last part of the story; for I promised to keep it forever
in the dark.”

Fisher now rose and paced the room a moment in deep thought;
when he turned to the other and said,

“Shadrack, though you have unintentionally been the means
of having my fortunes associated with a painful event, yet there
is no denying your agency in making them. Here,” he added,
pulling out a hundred dollar bank bill, “take this in addition to
what we have already done for you, and with it my best wishes
for your success and happiness in life.”

The same day Fisher executed a deed to 'Squire Stacy, and
sent it to him enclosed with the following note—

“I send you herewith a deed of the little farm and cottage of
mine down the river, which I have heard you praise frequently,
I think.

Shack left this morning for the west; and before I suffered
him to depart, I succeeded in drawing from him, for the first time,
the secret of the “Ghost,” though he only left me the means of
conjecturing, as I know well enough I have done correctly, who
was the main planner of the singular experiment, which had a
so successful but melancholy termination. Please accept the
gift; for, however you or I may look upon that affair, you are entitled
to receive from me, for other and earlier benefits, this memorial
of my gratitude. Yours, &c.

LOT FISHER.”

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