"This daughter was named Ailsee. Thwarted by her father in some love affair with a swain of the neighborhood, she had drowned herself in a gloomy pool in the very darkest part of the forest. The body was found shortly afterward and buried in the cottage garden. Harris then left the country and has never since been heard of. All this, according to Uncle Ashby, happened twenty years ago. The ghost of the ill-starred Ailsee had occasionally been seen by the country folk, but always with dire results. Bad luck, disease, and in some cases death, had been the fate of those who saw the 'ha'nt.' One man lost his house by fire within forty-eight hours after the shadowy form crossed his path. The body of another unfortunate was found floating in the creek; his eyes wide open, staring horribly. The drowned man had but the day before made known the fact that he had seen the wraith of the marshman's daughter. Still another poor fellow had been taken, raving and violent, to the asylum. Numerous additional instances, equally as harrowing, were cited by Uncle Ashby, whose fervent belief in all that he said was rather impressive than otherwise. "I listened patiently to the old man until he finished. By that time the storm had ceased and the sky, suddenly clearing in the west, revealed the last rays of the setting sun, which brightened the room for a few moments. I laughed softly when Uncle Ashby went out, and all that I had heard of the ignorance, credulity, and superstition of the Southern negro came into my mind. I sat for a while, musing in the gathering dusk, and then went up to my room. "The lamps had not been lighted in that portion of the house, and it was quite dark. The atmosphere was stifling, as all the windows had been closed at the approach of the storm. I raised them, and the cool, damp air, heavy with the odor of jessamine, floated into the room. Elizabeth, evidently greatly fatigued by the day's exertions, had thrown herself upon a lounge at the foot of the bed. She was in her dressing-gown, and her face was framed in masses of wavy brown hair which had become uncoiled in her restless movements. I hesitated to awaken her, but as sounds from below indicated the near approach of dinner I called her--at first softly, and then in louder tones, an indefinable fear stealing over me as I did so. I approached the couch, and tremblingly placed my hand upon her forehead.... Ah, God, I cannot tell the rest! "Seven years have dragged their weary length along since I lost my dear young wife and the light of my life was extinguished forever! Now, all is darkness! darkness!