[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
Bill Buckley Sees an Apparition.
“No; ’tis the tale that angry conscience tells,
When she with more than tragic horror swells
Each circumstance of guilt; when stern, but true,
She brings bad actions forth into review,
And, like the dread handwriting on the wall,
Bids late remorse awake at reason’s call.”
Churchill.
AT a late hour one evening the butler at Waverdale Hall appeared before his master with the information that a stranger wished to see him on business of the first importance. In vain the faithful servant had represented to him the lateness of the hour and the unusual nature of his request; in vain he asked even for the stranger’s name. To all objections and inquiries the stranger, standing by the door closely shrouded in a large muffler, had simply said, “I must see the squire. I have walked many a weary mile for that purpose, and I know that if he will grant me a few minutes’ interview, he will be deeply grateful that ever the interview took place.” There was a time, and that not many weeks since, when the stately squire would have peremptorily refused such an unseasonable application; but now, after the strange and mollifying experiences to which he had been subjected, he considered but a moment, and then said,—