TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XVI, Issue 5496, 28 June 1879, Page 6

TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.

A LIVING GHOST. In the ancient city of Winchester, crowded as it is with monuments and relics of our Catholic ancestors' munificence, Btands forward amongst other charities the Hospital of St. Cross, which before the Reformation supported three hundred old and infirm residents o£ the city, but since that period has gradually dwindled down to twelve. The hospital is situate about a mile outside' the city, and is built in an octagonal shape, the entrance archway being fitted up as the : porter's lodge, with a small sliding window where a dole of bread and cheese and a glass 1 o£ beer was given to any traveller demanding I ifc. lam speaking now of some years back, when I was a lad, for before I left the dole 1 was reduced to a slice of bread about two ! inches square and a glass of water. The church stands opposite the entrance at the 1 further end, while six picturesque cottages ' range on either side, the centre being laid k down in grass, ornamented with flower beds. ' The brethren wear a long black serge coat 1 with a large silver cross on the breast as in ' daya of yore. No stranger ever thought of leaving Winchester without a visit to St. ■ Cross, if ouly to receive the dole, it being ' the only one now left in Old England at the 1 present day. The River itchen runs within 5 a mile of the hospital, the cemetery nearly 1 filliug up the intervening space. Being fond ' of fishing, my delight as a young man was to spend half the night with my rod and line on the banks o£ this river, one of the finest trout streams iu the county of Hampshire. And on this particular evening, it being favourable for fishingj(a warm drizzling rnin > falling), I got out my fishing tackle, and with " my white macintosh over my shoulders, 3 started off for St. Cross, passed throngh the i hospital grounds and took the path through the cemetery, it being the nearest cut to the ? river. It was a glorious evening for fishing, 1 the May fly up, and the trout rising in all directions, and I had bagged several tine fish " before I thonght of returning. As I strolled r back through the cemetery I went a little " out of the pathway, and sat myself down on " a flat tombstone, where I proceeded to put on my boots, as I had been standing in the • water; but finding it a difficult task to get J them on while my feet were wet, 1 laid myself back on the tomb, and was soon lost in contemplation of the etarry heavens, the ' clouds having cleared away. While in that > position, I distinctly heard the town-elock strike twelve, and at the same moment I • heard some one open the wicket I had entered ■ by, and was quickly passing through the cemetery. Wondering who it could be I was in the act of raising myself up to see, when B I was prevented from so doing by my coat *■ hiving caught in some part of the tomb, and 6 in that half-raised position, my naked feet 1 towards the pathway, I recognised Stephen ' Forder, an old friend of my father. In struggling to get up, my bait can rattled on f the tomb, which seemed to startle him, for fc on looking in the direction he for a moment became bo paralysed with fear that I never 3 shall forget the horror depicted on his face, and, raising his hand as if to keep me off, he " took to his heels and bolted down the path 8 at a speed I thought it impossible for him to 1 go. Feeling so certain that he must have known me, his strange conduct fairly took 1 my breath away, when the thought suddenly 0 struck me that he had seen something be- ' hind me which had so evidently alarmed him, and that in raising his hand he meant to call me away, so, without daring to look back, I bounded from the tomb and followed him at the top of my speed, hoping to overtake him; but the faster I ran the more speed ho pat on, and looking back, his month wide open and hair on end, as if he still saw t something beyond me, I ran for my rery life. s As we were approaching the other wicket, e whioh was difficult to open, I felt assured I, . should come up with him, but, to my surprise, he being a corpulent mau, instead of a attempting to open it, gave one more look s round, and seeing I was gaining upon him, a made a bound which cleared the wicket, and he was soon down the hill and out of sight. J Frightonedto death, and every limb shaking, a I followed on, and coming to the wicket at- ,. tempted the same feat, but with very difr ferent result?, as my foot caught on the top 3 rail, and I was thrown head over heels on to the grass sward on the other side. How long a I laid there the reader may guess, for when H I came to myself the enn was rising, and, 1 finding myself barefooted and without my i hat or fishing-rod, I went back to the tomb t I had been sitting on, and found all as I had . left it, with a portion of my macintosh caught r on a nail the mason had used in building the j tomb. I soon made for home, and got quietly into bed just as the servants were 1 getting up. As I came down to breakfast, , my father asked me if I had been ont late, r I looked so palo; but, before I could answer, , a neighbour rushed in and told us of border's sudden illness, that the doctors bad been ' with him half the night, and that they were of opinion that he was going mad ; that ho ' was very excited, and insisted that he had [ not only seen Dashwood (one'of the brethren L of St. Cross who had died an Athiest, and on j Those tomb I had been sitting) rise out of j his grave, but that he had actually chased I him across the cemetery, and he with diffi--3 culty escaped. Ridiculous as it all appeared j at the time, yet Fordor's continued assertions, long after he was convalescent, that it was true, and his describing all that took t place so vividly, no resident of Winchester ever again trusted himself alone through that cemetery after dark. As I had a great I horror of appearing ridioulous, and thoroughly t ashamed of the fright I got into, I kept all I ; knew to myself, although 1 saw poor Forder j gradually becoming a prematurely old and , altered man ; from a jolly, happy disposition, he had become thoughtful and morose,.and [ seldom or ever smiled. And it was not until the eye of my twenty-firat birthday, as I was \ to loave for London on the following morn- ( ing, I revealed what I knew. My. father, to [ celebrate the event, had invited many of his , friends, and amongst them Forder, and towards the end of the evening, aa I. returned [ thanks for their good wishes, I told the tale t of the cemetery, and the part I had unwit- [ tingly played as Dashwood's ghost. I i watched him as I related the story ; he first , gaeped for breath, and. looked as if I had , taken a load of care from off him ; and as I [ proceeded to describe the mortal fright he j put me in, and the leap I took for life, and , failed in, ho laughed until the tears ran down ! his cheeks, and rushing up to me, seized my i hand, giving if* shake I have never -for- . gotten to this day. T. W. G.