MAY-FJ/JWERS.
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��'• (Jh. Linda, Linda. I do not under- stand a word of all you say. \'ou must go with nie. anti never, never leave me."
" Ah, you will see it all as I do after awhile. Do not mourn for me. onlv ho])e." And with one last lingering kiss she was gone. I'^dgar fell sense- less to the earth.
It was midnight when he awoke. He saw lanterns gleaming through the wood, and heard voices calling him by name. The town's people, who had turned out to search for him, shook their heads significantlv when they saw his wild and disordered look. The blow that he had received on his head a few weeks before was obviously responsible for his strange behavior. So without needless questions they constructed a kind of litter on the spot, and carried him home, for he was altogether too weak to walk. He was put in bed again, where he remained for several flays.
VI.
When at length Ldgar was able to sit upon the piazza, an odd-looking letter was brought to him one day, marked " Official," and sealed with a great black seal. Edgar opened it wonderingly. and found a letter written on brown fibrous paper, which read as follows : ,
" To his Excellency, Edgar Somer- ton, S. H. — Your duty respectfully recjuired at the rock in the glen, on the 28th of May, by the reckoning of the
��sun. Your servant in grief.
The signature appeared like a mere tangle of chance lines and angles, from which Edgar could make no meaning. On Thursday, the twenty- eighth, however, he was so far recov- ered that he undertook to carry out what seemed to be the request of the mysterious billet. The thought of Linda drove from his mind any fear that such a strange message might well have caused, and when he arrived at the familiar glen he looked eagerly around him in hope of seeing some sign of Linda. But she did not come.
��and even the last vestige of the May- flowers that she had loved was gone. Suddenly a discordant noise caused him to turn (juickly : "Since your excellency has seen fit to come so early," it said, "we will proceed at once." The speaker was a thick little man, in black dress coat and small clothes, and with a high sugar-loaf hat upon his head. Beckoning Edgar to follow, he lead the way a hundred yards or so into the woods, to a little sciuare stone house, at which Edgar stared in amazement, for he believed that he had searched every square foot of that part of the forest, and here stood a house looking as old as the crags themselves. Lideed it looked \ery like a huge bowlder, with a door- way in one side, and it might have been that very resemblance, Edgar thought, that had caused him to over- look it. Leaving him beside the trunk of an oak-tree, his guide entered the low door-way. Presently an old man and an old woman walked slowly out of the door, side by side, followed by another old, old man, in a long black robe, who carried a ponderous book under his arm. Twelve men came next, bearing what looked like a bier, with an ominous black covering. Last of all marched twenty sable-clad men, some with spades, some with pick- axes, among whom Edgar recognized his guide. The whole train moved mechanically forward, with measured steps, passing within a few feet of him without noticing him in any way. Li- deed they did not seem to notice any thing, but walked straight forward with faces expressive of nothing but utter vacancy. They struck into the road at last — it was the Hopkinton road, — and followed it until they came to a grave-yard — the Millville cemetery — which at that time contained but few- graves. Edgar, though unbidden, fol- lowed as a matter of course, and he observed with wonder that several per- sons whom they met upon the road, passed them by without bestowing even a glance uj)on the extraordinary pro- cession. The pall-bearers entered the
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