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Updated: June 6, 2025
In the center of this whirlpool of iniquity stood the Catacombs as the hub from which lesser spokes in the wheel radiated. Any old logger of the Saginaw Valley can tell you of the Catacombs, just as any old logger of any other valley will tell you of the "Pen," the "White Row," the "Water Streets" of Alpena, Port Huron, Ludington, Muskegon, and a dozen other lumber towns.
"If I had never seen her picture," he said one day to Miss Ludington, "I should never have known that my love was dead, and I should have gone seeking her through all the world, and wondering what was the reason I could not find her." Miss Ludington was over sixty years of age and Paul was twenty-two when he finished his course at college.
"It was the most successful séance I have ever witnessed," he said. "The conditions must have been unusually favourable. How were you pleased, Miss Ludington?" The abrupt transition from the shadows of the between-world to the glare of gas-light, from the communion of spirits to the brisk business-like tones of Dr.
Hull's visit that Miss Ludington had a sudden illness, lasting several days, which, during its crisis, caused much alarm. Ida turned all the servants out of the sick-room and constituted herself nurse, watcher, and chambermaid, if she lay down at all it was only after leaving a substitute charged to call her upon the slightest occasion.
They sat abstracted and silent at table, and, on rising, went each their own way. In the exalted state of their imaginations the enterprise they had in hand would not bear talking over. When she retired to bed Miss Ludington found that sleep was out of the question. About two o'clock in the morning she heard Paul leave his room and go downstairs.
She spoke in a low, even tone, which was so evidently the result of an effort at self-control, that it impressed Paul more than any display of mental perturbation would have done. At this moment Miss Ludington appeared on the piazza with a white, excited face, which, however, as soon as she saw Ida, became all smiles. She had scarcely slept at all.
We took the horse over to Sturgis to try and sell him, stopping at the Elliott House. Mr. Elliott, Proprietor, has since become one of my most intimate friends, and is now running a hotel at Ludington, Michigan.
"It does not matter while I live," pursued Miss Ludington; "but what if I should die?" "Let us not talk of that," replied Paul, "or think of it. Yet even in that event I should be here to protect her." Miss Ludington regarded the young man for some moments without speaking, and then, as a slight colour tinged her cheek she said, "Paul, do you love her?" "Do you need to ask me that?" he answered.
It was an hour before she would raise her head, replying the while only with sobs to the kisses and caresses showered upon her, and the assurances of love and welcome poured into her ears. When at last she lifted her face her embarrassment was so distressing that in pity Miss Ludington told Paul he might take her out for a walk in the dark.
"You are quite fit for him," said Miss Ludington, kissing her, "and I can well believe he loves you. It would be strange, indeed, if he did not. You are a noble and a tender woman, and he will be very happy."
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