Shuddering as the dark stream foameth,
There she waits her coming doom.—E. P. Lee.
It was a medium-sized, comfortable apartment, well carpeted, and well-curtained, with its back windows looking out upon the shrubberies in the rear of the mansion.
A well-spread supper-table stood in the middle of the floor, and around it were gathered Mrs. Broadsides, Mr. Jessup, Miss Tabs, and Mr. Antonio, who were the housekeeper’s guests for the evening. Their conversation, like that of their superiors, had turned upon the late tragic events at Allworth.
Here, also, opinion was divided upon the subject of the supposed criminal—Mrs. Broadsides, Jessup, and Mr. Antonio loudly declaring their belief in the guilt of Eudora, and Miss Tabs stoutly asserting her faith in her innocence.
But through the whole of this conversation, it was observed that at intervals Mrs. Broadsides, who sat at the head of the table opposite the window, would often start, stare and bless herself, while Jessup, who sat at the foot, would twist his head over his shoulder as though he saw a spectre behind him.
Politeness deterred Miss Tabs and Mr. Antonio from taking any notice of these strange manifestations.
At length Jessup, after giving his own neck a most dangerous wring, and getting no satisfaction for his pains, spoke out, saying:
“Mrs. Broadsides, I would be obliged to you, ma’am, if you would tell me what it is that you see out of that window, for shiver my timbers if I can see anything but black darkness.”
“Jessup, don’t ask me! that’s a good soul! it’s nothing earthly as I see,” answered the woman, in a hushed tone of awe.