CHAPTER XI.
THE LITTLE GUEST AND THE APPARITION.
I went to Mr. Argyll's to the Christmas dinner. I was surprised to meetEleanor in the family group; for, though she now frequently joined thehome circle, I thought that on this holiday her own loss would pressupon her with overwhelming weight. Instead of this, I saw a light inher countenance which it had never before worn; her face, totallydevoid of smiles or color, yet shone with a serene and solemn luster,the most touching, the most saddening, and yet elevating, of anyexpression I had ever seen upon human features. My intense sympathywith her taught me how to translate this new phase of her mind; I feltthat, in those mystic vows which she had taken upon herself with aspirit, she had derived a comfort; that she joyed in the consciousnessthat she was now and from henceforth evermore the bride of him whowaited for her in the mansions of the Heavenly country. This life wastransient--to be meekly borne a little while alone--then she would goto him who awaited her in the only true and abiding home. I, and Ionly, looked upon her as the wife of Henry Moreland, as sacredly as ifhe were her living partner. I only was fitted, by the power of my ownpassion and suffering, to appreciate her position, and the feelingswith which she now returned to her friends, to play such a part in lifeas duty still pointed out. I can not explain with what an emotion ofreverence I took and pressed the little, attenuated hand which sheplaced in mine.
There had been, as yet, no change in Eleanor's demeanor toward me.Whether I imagined it in the rest of the family, or whether they hadchanged, this much was still certain, and gave me the deepest pleasureI could now know: Eleanor was the same to me as she had ever been--thebenignant, gentle sister, who loved and trusted me as a dearbrother--more dear than ever since I had given such proofs of mydevotion to her cause--since she could not but see how my very heartwas wrung with the pain which tore her own. As long as she continued totreat me thus, as long as I could give her one smallest atom ofpleasure in any way, I felt that I could bear any thing from theothers. Not that there was any thing to bear--nothing--nothing, exceptthat indefinable air which a sensitive spirit feels more keenly thanany open slight. The new year was now approaching; it would be the mostnatural time for entering into new business relations; I felt that ifMr. Argyll intended to offer me the partnership, he would do it then.If he did not--I must look out for myself--I must go away.
The Christmas dinner was the sumptuous feast which it always had been,the old housekeeper having taken it into her own hands. She, to judgeby her provision, felt that such kind of painstaking would be a reliefto the general gloom. No guests were invited, of course. It wastouching to see how the servants persisted in placing every imaginabledelicacy before Miss Eleanor, which she could not, by any possibility,even taste. A cup of coffee, with a piece of bread, made up her slenderChristmas feast. Yet it was a joy to her father to have her at thetable at all. Mary's affectionate glances continually sought her face;parent and sister both felt relieved and comforted by its tranquilexpression.
James, too, was cheerful; he would have been brilliant had anopportunity offered. I, who read him tolerably well, knew that it wasthe sight of Eleanor's tranquillity which had inspired him--and that hedid not understand that saintly resignation as I did.
In the course of the conversation around the table, which I did my bestto make cheerful, I happened to speak of Lenore Burton. It was not thefirst time I had mentioned her, always with such enthusiasm as toexcite the interest of the ladies. Mary asked me many questions abouther, finally turning to her sister, and saying,
"You were always so fond of children, Eleanor. May I not send for thisbeautiful little girl to spend a few days with us?"
"Certainly, Mary, if you think you would like her company."
"Do you think her father would trust her to us a little while, Richard?"
"He can be persuaded, without doubt."
After we had left the table, Mary came to me, with much animation, towhisper her ideas about the proposed visit; she thought the sight of anagreeable, lovely child about the house might interest Eleanor morethan any thing else possibly could, and would, at least, delight herfather, who was drooping under the silence and mourning in his home. Iquite agreed with her in her opinions, deciding to write that evening apressing plea to Mr. Burton, promising the most careful attention tohis frail little household blossom which a trusty housekeeper andloving friends could extend. I would come down to the city for her, andattend her dutifully on her little journey, if his consent was given,and Miss Lenore herself approved the action.
The next day I had an answer. Mr. Burton wrote that Lenore wasdelighted with the invitation, and that he accepted it the morewillingly, as he was called unexpectedly to Boston, where he should beabsent a week or ten days, and that he had not liked leaving hisdaughter so lonely during the holidays. He added that he was obliged toleave that morning; but I might come for Lenore at any time; I wouldfind her ready; and that, upon his return from Boston, he would come upto Blankville after her; closing his note with polite thanks for ourfriendly interest in his little girl, etc. Thus every thing wassatisfactory. The third day after Christmas I went down, in themorning, to New York, returning in the afternoon with my littletreasure, who was brimful of happiness, enjoying the ride with the zestof childhood, and confiding herself to my guardianship with a joyfulcontent, which awakened my tenderest care in response. This artlessfaith of the child in the providence of the grown-up man it is whichbrings out the least selfish part of his character, bowing his haughty,hardened nature to minister to the humblest of its confiding wants.
The sisters both came into the hall to receive their little visitor.They took her into the parlors, bright with chandelier and firelight,unhooding and uncloaking her before the grate. I was anxious to witnessthe impression she made, for I had been so lavish of my praises, as torun the risk of creating a disappointment.
It was impossible to be disappointed in Lenore. She made conquest ofthe whole family in the half-hour before tea. It was not her exquisitebeauty alone, but her sweet expression, her modest self-possession amidher stranger-friends, enhancing its effect. Mr. Argyll brightened as Ihad not lately seen him; every other minute Mary would repeat thewelcome of her little guest with another kiss, declaring, in herpretty, willful way, that Mr. Richard was not going to monopolize MissLenore because he was the oldest acquaintance--Lenore having chosen herseat by my side, with her hand nestled in mine.
James was not in the house; he did not come home until some time afterwe had taken our tea--drank his alone in the dining-room--and joinedour circle quite late in the evening. As he came in we were sittingabout the fire. Lenore had gone, of her own inclination, to MissArgyll's side, where she sat on a low stool, with her head against thelady's lap. She made a gay picture as she sat there, framed around withthe black of Eleanor's garments. Her traveling-dress was of crimsonmerino, and her cheeks--what with the ride in the cold air, and theglow of the present fire, were almost as red as her dress; while hergolden curls streamed in shining strands over the sable habilimentsagainst which she rested. She was replying archly to some teasingremark of Mr. Argyll's, and I was thinking what a brightness she wouldgive to the dull house, when James came forward, holding out his hand,with one of his pleasantest smiles, saying,
"This is the little lady, is it, whom we have been so anxiously waitingto see? Can I be introduced, cousin Mary, or does not the Queen offairies allow herself to make the acquaintance of ordinary mortals?"
You have noticed, reader, how some little cloud, floating in the westat sunset, will be flushed through with rosy light, and how, instantly,while you gaze, it will turn gray, losing every particle of radiance.So the child changed when he approached and spoke to her. Her cheeksfaded to a gray whiteness; her eyes were riveted on his, but she couldnot smile; she seemed to struggle with some inward repugnance and hersense of what courtesy demanded; finally she laid her little cold handin his, without a word, suffered him to kiss her, and, clinging cl
oseto Eleanor, remained pale and quiet--her gayety and bloom were alikegone. Mr. Argyll could not rally her--she shrunk like a sensitive plant.
"If that pallid, stupid little creature is the marvelous child Richardpromised us, I must say, he has shown his usual good taste," commentedJames in an aside to Mary. He was not flattered by the reception he hadmet.
"Something is the matter with her, James. She is wearied with herjourney. I am afraid we are keeping her up too late. She was gay enougha little while since."
"Are you tired? Would you wish to go to bed?" whispered Miss Argyll.
"If you please," she replied, with an air of relief.
"You are not getting homesick so soon?" asked Mr. Argyll.
"I am not; I like it here very much," answered Lenore, candidly."Something is the matter with me now, sir, and you must please excuseme. My head began to ache just now--so I suppose I had better go tobed."
She bade us good-night with a smile so restrained that I felt afraidshe was not going to enjoy her visit. Eleanor herself took her away tothe maid who was to attend upon her, and did not return to us until herlittle guest was in bed.
"Come, Mary, let's drop the baby question, and play chess," said James,impatiently, as we discussed the visitor; "I'm tired of the subject."
"Wait until to-morrow, and you will become interested too," sheresponded.
"I like hearty little bread-and-butter girls," said he, "but not suchdie-away misses as that. She looks to me as if she read Coleridgealready. Children should be children, to please me."
The repulsion was mutual. I, only, had noticed the strange effectwrought upon my pet by a sight of James, and knowing, as I did, thepeculiarities of her temperament, it had astonished me, and aroused mycuriosity. By the ill-humor with which he received any allusion toLenore, I believed that James himself was conscious that the pure eyesof the child looked straight into the darker chambers of his heart, andwas frightened by what she saw there. A young man who was gambling awayhis uncle's property upon the credit of a daughter's hand which he hadnot yet won, could not have a very easy conscience; and it was not apleasant thing to be reminded of his delinquencies by the clear eyes ofan innocent child. As he became absorbed in his game of chess, I satstudying his countenance, and thinking of many things. I wondered ifhis uncle and cousins were not aware of the change which was comingover him; that reckless, dissipated look which writes certain wrinklesin a young man's face, overwritten in his by outer smiles, which couldnot hide the truth from a discerning eye. I asked myself if I couldjustify my course in keeping silence about what I had seen; it was myplainest duty to inform Mr. Argyll, not only on his account, but onJames also. Such a knowledge, coming to his uncle, though it would beterribly mortifying to his nephew, might be the means of breaking hisnew fetters of habit before they were riveted upon him. Such, I felt,was my duty. At the same time, I shrunk from it, as a person situatedas I was naturally would shrink; I was liable to have my motivesmisconstrued; to have it hinted that self-interest was prompting me toplace James in a bad light. No, I couldn't do it! For the hundredthtime I came to this conclusion, against the higher voice of theabsolute right. I was glad to strengthen myself in my weak course byremembering that Mr. Burton had requested my silence, and that I wasnot at liberty to betray his confidence. Looking at him, thinking thesethings, with my thoughts more in my eyes than they ought to have beenhad I been on my guard, James suddenly looked up and encountered mygaze. He pushed the board aside with an angry motion, which overthrewhalf the men and entirely disconcerted the game.
"Well, how do you like my looks, Richard?" the defiant eyes glitteringwith a will which overpowered my own, smiling a deadly smile whichthreatened me.
"How peevish you are, James! I believe you threw up the game becauseyou saw I was checkmating you," cried his cousin.
"That's it, my dear child; I never would allow myself to be checkmated!"
"Then you shouldn't play!"
"Oh, sometimes I allow women to win the game; but when I play with men,I never give up. The man who attempts the chances with me must preparefor defeat."
"How generous you are to the witless sex," said Mary, sarcastically. "Iam much obliged to you, that you sometimes allow us to win. Just pickup that castle you have sent tumbling in ruins, if you please, sir--anddon't ask me to play chess for at least a fortnight."
I perceived a threat in his words of which the girl was quite innocent;he was throwing down the gauntlet to _me_; again and again his air, hiswords, were such that I could put no other construction upon them. Hewas determined to misunderstand me--to look upon me as a person seekingto injure him. I was in his way--I must get out of it. This was themanner he put on to me. I felt that night, more than ever, theconviction that my connection with the Argylls was about to be broken.If James felt thus toward me, I should be unwilling to take a positionwhich he regarded as belonging, of right, to himself. Worse than all, Ifelt that his treacherous nature was working secretly against me, andthat his efforts had already told upon those whose love and respect wasmost precious to me.
Shortly after, I took my leave; he was so engrossed, with his backtoward me, looking over some old engravings, that he did not turn tosay good-night. My room at my boarding-house had a particularlycheerless air that evening; I felt lonely and embittered. My heartached for sympathy. I resolved that, if a partnership was not offeredon New Year's, I would propose a visit to my mother, for whose love andencouragement I longed. The event of going away, too, would give Mr.Argyll the opportunity of declaring himself in one way or another.
Lenore's visit was a decided success--in the way, too, which I hadhoped for. Her fine and spiritual nature was drawn toward Eleanor in amanner which made the latter love her, and grow to feel a consolationin the touch of the little hand, the unsought kiss, and the silentsympathy which brought the child to sit hours by her side, sayingnothing, but looking with wonder and reverence at a sorrow too deep forher young heart to fathom. Lenore frolicked with Mr. Argyll, chattedand sung with Mary; but she was always ready to leave either for herquiet corner by Miss Argyll. Mary pretended jealousy, though we wereall glad to see the interest Eleanor took in the child. One of ourgreatest pleasures was in Lenore's singing. I have mentioned the purityand great compass of her voice. To hear her sing some of Handel'smusic, of a Sabbath twilight, was almost to obtain a glimpse into theheaven toward which her voice soared. I saw Eleanor quietly weepingwhile she sung, and I knew the music was loosening the tense strainupon her heart-chords.
Page 161.
"WELL, HOW DO YOU LIKE MY LOOKS, RICHARD?"]
I was interested in watching two things--first, the attachment betweenMiss Argyll and Lenore; secondly, the persistent effort of James toovercome his first aversion, and his ultimate success. By the secondday he had mastered his chagrin at the evident dislike of the child,who could hardly compel herself to be polite to him, and who grewconstrained and pale whenever he was near her. James Argyll was not theman to allow a child to slight him with impunity. His indolence was arepugnance to business and study; it was no weakness of the will, forwhen he set his resolves upon an object, he usually accomplished it. Isaw that he had resolved to conquer Lenore. He paid court to her as ifshe were a "lady of the land," instead of a little girl; on New Year'she overwhelmed her with splendid presents; he took her outsleigh-riding with him, in a fancy cutter, which he declared was onlyjust large enough for those two, with chimes of silver bells and aspirited horse. I ought not to have felt grieved that Lenore, also,like the rest of the world, proved faithless to me. But I did. I wasmore hurt by her growing indifference to me and her increasingfascination for James than the subject warranted. I should have knownthat rides and dolls, flowers and flatteries, and a dainty little ringfor her forefinger, would win any little maiden of eleven; but I hadestimated Lenore's character higher. I had noticed her attractions andrepulsions, the former always toward noble and true persons--the lattertoward the unworthy. Now, however, my little bird was charmed by theserpent's eye; she wa
s under the influence of James' will, and Iresigned her.
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About ten days after my visit to Mrs. Scott, I kept my promise to her,by returning to inquire about the present condition of Moreland villa.I saw, as soon as I entered the cottage, that her mind was preyed on bythe same convictions which had troubled her on the former occasion.
"If there ain't at least one ghost in that house, then there never wassuch a thing, and there never will be--now! You've seen for yourselfthere ain't a human being in it--_and there is something_! I've seen itand heard it, and you can't convince a person against them two senses,I reckon."
"I don't want to convince you, Mrs. Scott; I only want to convincemyself what this thing is which you have seen and heard. Have you hadany new revelations?"
"I've seen the death-light once since, standing over the house; we sawit, too, shinin' out of that room--John and I saw that together. We wasso set on findin' out whether it was spirits or not, we mustered upcourage to go through the house ag'in the next day, and as sure asyou're settin' there, _something_ had been back and laid down on thatbed ag'in--something light, that scarcely made a dent--you needn't tellme't was any human mortal, which it wasn't. We've heard childrencryin', too, which is an evil omen, the dream-book says; an' to clapthe climax, Mr. Redfield, there's no use keepin' it back--_we've seenthe ghost_!"
I was now as interested as the woman could desire; she had stopped,mysteriously, after making this grave declaration, and sat looking mein the eyes. I returned her gaze with one of silent inquiry, leaning alittle forward in my chair. Mrs. Scott smoothed her apron absently,with her large hands, still looking into my eyes, as if she saw theghost in their distending pupils. I made up my mind that I was going tohear either something of ridiculous shadowyness magnified into anapparition, or something which would give some tangible clue to themystery, if there was a mystery, of Moreland villa.
"You have been fortunate," said I. "What was it like, pray?"
"You've noticed there was a little balcony under the windows of Henry'sroom?"
"I know there is such a balcony."
"It was there we saw it. You know how bright the nights have beenlately, with the full moon and the snow. John and I walked out, nightbefore last, to the front of the villa, to see what we could see--andthere it was! It was as light as day, and we both had a good look atit. I don't know how long it might have stayed if I hadn't screamed.John clapped his hand over my mouth to stop me, but he was too late; itsort of riz right up and disappeared."
"But what was it like--man, woman, or child?"
"It was like a ghost, I tell you," replied the housekeeper, stoutly. "Is'pose sperits are dressed purty much alike in the next world, whetherthey're men or women. We read in the Bible of the white robes--and I'venever heard of a spook that was dressed in any other way. It may havebeen Henry in his shroud, for all I know--that's what I believe itwas--there now!"
"Henry was never dressed in a shroud," I answered, gravely; "he wasburied in a black-broadcloth suit. So you see that you were not correctthere."
"Oh, well, Mr. Redfield, we can't understand these things--it isn'tgiven to us. I can tell you what John and I saw, and you can make upyour own mind. There was a shape, on the balcony, standing straight up,white all over. A long white garment hung from its head to its feet;its face was turned up to the moon, and its arms were raised as if itprayed. It's eyes was wide open, and it's face as pale as a corpse's.John and I will both make our affydavit to it, in court, if it'snecessary."
"Where did it go to when it disappeared?"
"It seemed to me to turn into the air; but that I wouldn't be so sureabout. John thought it went right through the side of the house."
"Was the window open behind it?"
"Wal, really now, I wouldn't swear that it was, or wasn't. The fact is,I was so scaart the minit I saw it, I like to have dropped. John wasfor staying 'to see if it wouldn't come ag'in,' but I wouldn't let him,so we both cut and run."
"I am sorry you didn't use your eyes to better advantage."
"When you see a thing like that, I reckon you'll run, too. It ain't atall likely the window was open, or we would have noticed it. It was allshut up the next mornin', the same as ever."
"That was yesterday. I suppose you have not been in the villa since?"
"Lord! no, sir. I wouldn't go now for a hundred dollars."
"Have you noticed any thing else peculiar?"
"Yes, sir. There's been footsteps around the house in the snow."
"Indeed?" I said, eagerly; "that is more like something. Can I see themnow?"
"No, sir; the sun's melted 'em all off. But if you think they're thetracks of persons comin' about the house for any purpose, just tell me,will you, sir, how they happened to be just about the porch, and so on,and not a track to it, nor away from it, in no direction?"
"Indeed, I can not explain it, until I've rooted out the mystery fromthe beginning."
"Nor it can't be explained," cried the housekeeper, triumphantly.
It worried her to think I was so skeptical when she had given suchabsolute proofs; the idea of the haunted villa was making her reallysick, yet she would not give up her cherished belief in its beinghaunted. I think she would have been disappointed if any one had comeforward and sworn himself the ghost.
I sat a little while pondering her statements. There had been nothing,on the former occasion, to convince me that any intruder, human orspiritual, had been in the villa--except the shadowy imprint of a formon Henry's bed, and for the proof that it had not been made before thehouse was cleaned up, I had nothing but her word. As for thedeath-light and the wailing sounds, I conceived that, in that lonesome,solitary place, two persons of the class to which these belonged, withtheir excited imaginations reaecting upon each other, might easilypersuade themselves of such marvels. Even in this last statement, thatboth of them had clearly and distinctly seen a white form on thebalcony of the room, I did not find much to disturb me. There isnothing better for producing all kinds of shapes and phantoms to afrightened or superstitious eye, than a bright, moonlight night. It isfar better than the deepest darkness. The earth is full of weirdshadows; the most familiar objects take on an unnatural appearance inthe gleaming rays, enhanced in their strange effect by the black,fantastic shadows which stretch away from them. Add to this, a garmentof snow spread over every thing. The landscape on which we have restedour gaze, every day, for years, under these circumstances will be asnovel to us, as if it were a bit of scenery transplanted from somestrange and far country. A vivid fancy, predisposed to the work, canmake an excellent ghost out of a rose-bush or a fence-post--a fearfulapparition out of the shadow of a cornice heaped with snow. In thepresent case, not only were the man and his wife in that feverish statein which the eye makes visions for itself, but they were quite ready tolink such phantoms with Henry's room, which they had previously decreedto be the favorite abode of the ghost. A review of the whole case ledme rather to be vexed with them, than satisfied there was any reasonfor the mental "stew" into which they had heated themselves. The onlytangible things of the whole medley were--the footprints. If there wereactually traces of feet walking about the premises, that was enough tosatisfy me--not of a ghost, but of a person, engaged in prying aboutthe villa for some unlawful purpose. I made up my mind to watch forthis person, and entrap him. It occurred to me, at once, that one ofthose dare-devil spirits, to be found in every community, was purposelygetting up scenic effects on the premises, for the amusement ofspreading the report that the villa was haunted, and exciting thegossip and credulity of the village. I was indignant at theheartlessness of the plan, and resolved, should I catch theperpetrator, to inflict such summary chastisement, as would cure him ofhis taste for practical joking. The assertion of the woman that thetracks began and ended nowhere--that no one had approached the house,because there were no footsteps coming in from any direction--did notreceive entire credit from me. Were that actually the case, then, itwas posit
ive evidence that the person was secreted in the dwelling--anidea foolish and incredible on the face of it, for many reasons.
However, I was in earnest, now, about the matter; I would ascertain thetruth or explode the falsehood, and make an end of it, before painfulreports should reach the ears of friends, or every idle ragamuffin inthe country make that hallowed place, consecrated by the ties andmemories of the one now gone, the focus of his vulgar curiosity.
"Where is your husband?"
"He's sortin' pertaters, or tyin' up seeds, in the loft."
"Please call him down, and give me the keys of the house."
The gardener came, following very reluctantly, at my bidding, while Iagain entered the villa, and went over every room, stationing him inthe hall, so that no one could possibly escape during my visit to thelower and upper floors. I searched from cellar to garret, while Mrs.Scott, with her pale-blue eyes wide open, and affecting a bustlingbravery which her looks belied, accompanied me. Once, at a suddennoise, she seized the skirts of my overcoat, but resigned them when Itold her it was caused by John's shutting the front hall-door.
"Dear! dear! there's rats in the villa, at last!" she exclaimed,removing the cover of a flour-barrel which stood in the store-room."They've been in this flour! I'm sorry, for they're an awful pest.They'll make trouble if I don't watch 'em clost. I believe I'll pizen'em. Mrs. Moreland told me to take this flour home and use it up; butwe haven't needed it yet, and I've left it here, and now they've madepretty work with it."
"If there are rats here, I shan't be surprised at all kinds of noises,"I remarked. "Rats are equal to almost any thing. They will tramp likean army of men, or stalk like a solitary burglar. They will throw downplates and cups--like this one, broken on the floor here, since we camehere last; muss pillows and drag books out of place. You really willhave to keep a sharp lookout."
"They won't cry like a child, nor moan like a sick person, nor stand onbalconies dressed in shrouds!" observed the housekeeper.
"I think they would do the first two," and I smiled, "but as to thelatter, I'm not prepared to assert."
"I reckon not. I only wish you'd seen it, Mr. Redfield."
"I shall stay to-night in the hope of that pleasure, Mrs. Scott."
"I'm right glad to hear you say so, sir. It's not pleasant to be placedin the situation I am--to know what I know, and not to have my wordtaken."
It was true; it could not be pleasant for her to have her earneststatements received with so much skepticism; I did not wonder that shefelt hurt, almost offended; at the same time I felt as if I, in myturn, should be intensely aggravated if I found out there was nothingin all this flurry.
This second search resulted in nothing, like the first. It was nearlydark when we returned to the cottage, where Mrs. Scott allowed me todandle her fat, good-natured baby, Johnny, while she prepared tea in astyle befitting the important occasion of "company."
"If you're in earnest about sittin' up to watch, I'll make coffee,instid of tea, if it's agreeable to you, Mr. Redfield. It's better tokeep one awake."
I assented to this assertion, being of a similar opinion myself. Sheset her husband to grinding the delectable berry in a hand-mill, andsoon an excellent supper, with cold ham and hot biscuits, was placedupon the table. The night promised to be clear and cold; the moon wouldnot rise until about eleven; I fortified myself against the hardshipsof my adventure by two cups of strong coffee, with a substantial meal;passed an hour or two chatting with the couple and singing Johnny tosleep; then, about eight o'clock, I buttoned my overcoat close, tied mymuffler about my neck, and went forth to begin picket-duty.
"I'll leave the coffee-pot on the stove, and a good fire," was theparting promise of the good woman, who seemed to think I had rather asolemn time before me.
"Thank you, Mrs. Scott; if I make no discoveries by one or two o'clock,I shall come in to warm myself, and give up the hope for this occasion.You know midnight is the witching-hour--it will be useless to stay muchlater."
"The Lord be with you," she said, earnestly.
Armed with a stout walking-stick, with which I intended to inflictpunishment upon any intruder of earthly mold, I walked out on the lawn,taking such a survey as I could in the dim light; like the rain in thechildren's riddle, I went "round and round the house," and finally tookstation on the front porch, where I walked softly back and forth,listening for sounds within and without. I heard and saw nothing. Thelong hours slipped slowly away. Just before moonrise the darknessseemed to deepen, as it does before dawn. My intention was to take upsome position on the lawn, where, unseen myself, I could command theapproaches to the villa, and also have a view of Henry's room, with thebalcony. It was time now to secrete myself, before the approaching moonshould reveal me to the person or persons who might themselves be onthe watch. Accordingly, I selected a seat on the little rustic bench,completely encircled with bushy evergreens, which not only concealed myperson, but afforded me considerable protection from the cold. I cannot, to this day, breathe the pungent odor of the spicy trees, withoutrecalling the experiences of that night. A silence, like that which Dr.Kane speaks of as one of the most impressive features of the longArctic night, brooded around; over against the hills came graduallystealing the silvery luster of the rising moon, while the valleys yetlay in profoundest gloom; the dimly glimmering stretches of snowbroadened into whiter fields; the picturesque villa, with its turretsand porches and pointed roof, stood black and quiet before me. I couldhear a dog barking afar off, as it were some dream-dog barking in somedream-world. I had almost forgotten the cause of my being there, atthat strange hour, in that lone spot, gazing at that dark mass ofbuilding, empty of life and warmth as was _her_ heart of joy or hope;the intense cold, the odor of the pines and hemlock, the trance ofthought into which I had fallen, were benumbing me.
Suddenly I saw a shapeless and shadowy brightness hovering amid thosedark turrets. It was the death-light of which Mrs. Scott had told me. Awarm thrill ran through my fingers and toes, arousing me to the keenestconsciousness. I watched it flutter and move--stand still--flutteragain--and disappear. It lasted perhaps three minutes. In that time Ihad made up my mind as to the mysterious appearance--it was the lightof a lamp or candle being carried about in a person's hand. That waswhat it most resembled; but who carried it, and how was the reflectionthrown _there_, over the roof? There was certainly a mystery about thiswhich, had I been at all superstitious, or even nervous, would haveunfitted me for any further cool investigation. I resolved that if Icould not master the marvel then, I would do it by the light of day. Iwatched intently, hoping it would reaeppear, and give me some glimpse ofits origin. While I waited, a ray of light pierced through the shuttersof Henry's room. I will acknowledge that for one single instant thehand of the dead seemed laid on my heart; it turned cold, and refusedto beat. The next, I smiled grimly at myself. I had never been a moralor physical coward. The solution of the mystery was now in my grasp,and I had no idea of letting it slip. I was confident that some personwas playing the mischief in the deserted house; but if I had reallyexpected to confront the inhabitants of another world, I should nothave hesitated. The key of the main entrance was in my pocket; I walkedswiftly to the house, unlocked the door as softly as possible, andgrasping my stick firmly in my hand, sprung up the stairs. It was quitedark in the house, although it was now light out of doors; in my haste,I hit my foot against a chair at the bottom of the stairs, andoverthrew it. I was provoked, for I wished to come upon these midnightprowlers unawares. Knowing just where the room was situated, I wentdirectly toward it; it was very dark in the upper passage, all theblinds being closed; I groped for the handle of the door--somethingrustled, something stirred the air--I flung the door open. There was nolight in it. All was dark and silent. Before I could fling the shutteropen, letting in a peaceful flood of silver moonlight, my hope ofdetecting the intruder was almost at an end. I was certain thatsomething had passed me in the obscurity of the hall; I had beenconscious of that subtle magnetism which emanates f
rom a human form,perceived in the blackest night. It might be the magnetism of soulinstead of body, and a disembodied spirit might have sent the sameelectric current through me. At all events, I had now nothing for mylabor. I did not think that another journey over the house would resultin any discovery, since the warning had been given; I had no lamp orlantern with me; I reluctantly, after lingering and listening some timein vain, closed the room and the house, and returned to the cottage,where I drank the coffee which awaited me, laid down on a buffalo-robebefore the stove, and slept away my vexation.
I was not very communicative as to my adventures when eagerlyquestioned by my entertainers the following morning. They weresatisfied, by my very reticence, that I had seen something to puzzleme, and were both alarmed and triumphant. In answer to their inquiries,which they were too respectful to press, I assured them that I hadreason to think, with them, that the villa required attention. I hadnot been able to satisfy myself who was disturbing the premises; butthat I should not rest until I knew. I should return that night andsleep in the villa; I wished to enter it very quietly, probably beforedark, so as not to alarm the inmate or inmates; and I was confidentthat I should thus be able to pounce upon the ghost. Mrs. Scottregarded me with admiring awe.
"She wouldn't go for to sleep in that house alone for all the riches ofSolomon," and wouldn't I, at least, provide myself with pistols?
When I went into Mr. Argyll's office that morning, he greeted me withmarked coldness. At last I could not conceal from myself that, not onlyhad his manner changed, but that he wished me to feel that it had. Hegave me, as I entered, a searching, suspicious glance, saying,"Good-morning, Richard," in the most formal tone. Nothing further. Itook up a book, hiding my pain and embarrassment in an attempt to read;but my mind was not on the legal difficulties expounded therein; I waswondering at the causes of the situation in which I found myself. Ahanger-on! yes, an unwelcome hanger-on in an office where I no longerhad any conceded rights--in a home where I was no longer trusted.
"Has Mr. Argyll placed a spy on my actions? Does he know already that Iwas out the entire night? and does he judge me before he has anexplanation?" I asked myself, indignantly. "If he thinks I am formingbad habits, doing wrong in any respect, why does he not remonstratewith me--give me a chance to defend myself?"
I had intended to take his advice in the matter of the haunted house;but now I sat, angry and silent, feeling, oh, so wounded and forlorn. Idid not stay long in the office; going to my room, I wrote a longletter to my mother, telling her I should come soon to pay her thevisit which should have been sooner made had I not been engrossed withthe duty to which I had vowed myself.
Yes! I had pledged my own heart to devote myself to the discovery ofHenry Moreland's murderer; and if Eleanor herself had put her foot onthat heart, and crushed it yet more, I do not know that I should haveheld my vow absolved.
I should not have gone to the mansion that day, had not a message beensent, late in the afternoon, that Mr. Burton had arrived, and expectedme to meet him at tea. I went; and had the pleasure of seeing littleLenore enthroned by the side of James, who attended upon her as if shewere a princess, and of being treated with bare civility by all saveMr. Burton. Miss Argyll was ill, and did not come down.
I saw the observant eye of Mr. Burton watching the intimacy between hisdaughter and her new friend; whether he was pleased or not, I could notdecide; the eye which read the secret thoughts of other men did notalways betray its own impressions. I was certain, too, that he observedthe change in the demeanor of the family toward me, and my ownconstrained manner.