There came a light tap at the libary door-and, pale as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a voice tremulous, husky and very low. What said he?-some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the silence of the night-of the gathering together of the household-of a search in the direction of the sound; and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave-of a disfigured boy enshrouded, yet still breathing-still palpitating-still alive!
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 18:36:45 +0000
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