The Wraith Ringer Of Atlanta
:
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF THE SOUTH
:
Myths And Legends Of Our Own Land
A man was killed in Elliott Street, Atlanta, Georgia, by a cowardly
stroke from a stiletto. The assassin escaped. Strange what a humming
there was in the belfry of St. Michael's Church that night! Had the
murderer taken refuge there? Was it a knell for his lost soul, chasing
him through the empty streets and beginning already an eternal punishment
of terror? Perhaps the guilty one did not dare to leave Atlanta, for the
chimes sang in minor chords on several nights after. The old policeman
who kept ward in an antiquated guardhouse that stood opposite the
church--it was afterward shaken down by earthquake--said that he saw a
human form, which he would avouch to be that of the murdered man, though
it was wrapped in a cloak, stalk to the doors, enter without opening
them, glide up the winding stair, albeit he bent neither arm nor knee,
pass the ropes by which the chimes were rung, and mount to the belfry. He
could see the shrouded figure standing beneath the gloomy mouths of
metal. It extended its bony hands to the tongues of the bells and swung
them from side to side, but while they appeared to strike vigorously they
seemed as if muffled, and sent out only a low, musical roar, as if they
were rung by the wind. Was the murderer abroad on those nights? Did he,
too, see that black shadow of his victim in the belfry sounding an alarm
to the sleeping town and appealing to be avenged? It may be. At all
events, the apparition boded ill to others, for, whenever the chimes were
rung by spectral hands, mourners gathered at some bedside within hearing
of them and lamented that the friend they had loved would never know them
more on earth.