University of Virginia Library

CONCLUSION.

It was something like seven years after the concluding incidents
of our story, that Shadrack Rogers, who had been retained
in the employment of Lot Fisher and his wife, and who had
been so generously rewarded by them for his good conduct, as to
enable him to buy a farm for himself, announced his intention of
emigrating to the far West. And on the morning of his departure,
after he had bid adieu to his still almost idolized young mistress,
and slung his knapsack for the start, he sought her husband,
who was writing in his library—

“Well, Squire Fisher,” he said in his usual independent manner,
as he entered the room, “now for the few words you said
you wanted with me in private, before I started; for you see I
am all equipped for over the hills and far away.”

“Ay, ay, but be seated, Shadrack; for as I said, I wish for a
little talk with you,” said Fisher, “and in the first place let me
ask what you propose to do out west?”

“Get rich, and then be judge or something”—replied Shack
very gravely—“Perhaps if they keep you in Congress long
enough—say twenty years—and I guess they will by the strong
way they have just given you your first election—perhaps I'll
meet you there.”

“On my word, Shack, I don't think you will ever have to regret
not having set your mark high enough,” responded Fisher,
laughing heartily. “But after all, if you go on picking up information
and improving as fast as you have since living with
me, you may yet be found in public life. I have no doubt you
have native capacities enough for almost anything—Squire Stacy
has often said you were one of the shrewdest chaps he ever
knew.”

“The squire and I are tolerable friends,” said Shack composedly.

“Yes,” rejoined the other, “and that remark brings me to the
question which I would ask you in confidence, and which, as
you are now going out of the country, I hope you will candidly
answer.”

“What is it?” asked Shack, looking a little uneasy.

“It relates,” replied Fisher, “to the singular change in old Mr.
Hosmer's conduct, which so speedily brought about my marriage
with his niece, and the no less singular circumstances attending
his death. Now I was always satisfied, Shack, that you could
throw some light on this mystery, if you chose; and your answer
to one question, very probably, may explain the whole. What
was it you whispered to him, that produced such a terrible revulsion
of feeling, the violence of which, in his then weakened
state, it was thought, occasioned the rupture that killed him?”

“Why, you can't have any suspicions, Esquire Fisher, that I
intended it should, or supposed it could, have any such effect?”
answered Shack with an air of concern.

“O, certainly not; but what was it?”

“You don't intend to make use of it against me, no how?”

“No, no,—go on.”

“And you wont tell of it—not even to your wife?”

“I am as anxious as you, Shack, that the matter should be
buried in oblivion. But I wish to know for other reasons than
mere curiosity—fear nothing and proceed.”

“Well, I just hinted to him who the Ghost was, that's all.”

“Ah!—the ghost—who was it?”

“That can't be spoken—but I can guess how it was, perhaps,
if that will do.”

“I will hear it and then judge.”

“Well you know that the old man and I slept in rooms that
joined, and our beds stood abreast against opposite sides of the
petition, in which there was a door, that had long been nailed
up, right between us. Now the ghost might have found out,
somehow, that the lower panel of that door had become so
shrunk that it could be pinched out with a jack-knife, leaving a
hole under the beds, where a chap—say of about my size—could
have crept through, put back the panel, risen up from the floor
with a sheet round him, delivered his message from the other
world, unlocked the old man's door, and have been off to bed

and a snoring, before a frightened man would be apt to rally to
try to catch him.”

“I see—I see—The ghost stands revealed. But perhaps you
can guess, also, what that message was, which you think it
might have delivered?”

“Well, I fancy it didn't say much, the first time, but only
groaned and complained of being disturbed in the grave at a
brother's doings. The second time it did the same, and made its
appearance, without saying anything, trusting that would be
enough. But finding it want, and that the old man was kinder
defying it by fixing on the big lock, it came again and talked
like a book, giving him forty days to make all right in, or he
would be called for. Well, I don't know which was the most
scart and worried about this last visit, the old man or the ghost,
for it was that which turned the old man's hair so white, and so
nearly upset him. But it fixed him about right, and the business
moved after that to some purpose, as you yourself know.”

“A strange and cunning plot,” said Fisher thoughtfully; and
I can hardly wonder that it produced, with the operation of a
guilty conscience, such an effect. But what induced you to divulge
this to the old gentleman?”

“Why,” replied Shack, “I had got a peep into that bunch of
papers he gave you, and found all right. Well, as you was married
and had the papers in your pocket, as I supposed, I thought
every thing placed beyond a rip up; and when the old man called
me names, and ordered me to quit, I was tempted to humble
him on the spot; so I up and told him—sooner than I intended,
for it was agreed I should tell him before long, lest it should
shorten his days.”

“Agreed! agreed with whom?” eagerly asked the other,
catching at that word.

“Why, I didn't say anything about any whom,” said Shack, a
good deal disconcerted.

“No,” persisted Fisher, “but you used a word that has given
me a clue to another part of the secret, which I was particularly
anxious to learn. And you need not deny, Shack, that you have
had the assistance of a well-known, shrewd manager, in this affair.”

“Well, well,” replied Shack, with the chagrined air of one
who has unintentionally committed himself; “suppose a certain

man did help at the planning, and perhaps write off the words
for the ghost to use on the occasion, it only proves that two heads
were better than one, if one was a sheep's head, as the old man
used to call me. But you needn't ask me to say another word
about this last part of the story; for I promised to keep it forever
in the dark.”

Fisher now rose and paced the room a moment in deep thought;
when he turned to the other and said,

“Shadrack, though you have unintentionally been the means
of having my fortunes associated with a painful event, yet there
is no denying your agency in making them. Here,” he added,
pulling out a hundred dollar bank bill, “take this in addition to
what we have already done for you, and with it my best wishes
for your success and happiness in life.”

The same day Fisher executed a deed to 'Squire Stacy, and
sent it to him enclosed with the following note—

“I send you herewith a deed of the little farm and cottage of
mine down the river, which I have heard you praise frequently,
I think.

Shack left this morning for the west; and before I suffered
him to depart, I succeeded in drawing from him, for the first time,
the secret of the “Ghost,” though he only left me the means of
conjecturing, as I know well enough I have done correctly, who
was the main planner of the singular experiment, which had a
so successful but melancholy termination. Please accept the
gift; for, however you or I may look upon that affair, you are entitled
to receive from me, for other and earlier benefits, this memorial
of my gratitude. Yours, &c.

LOT FISHER.”