CHAPTER XVIII
THE GHOST
The corn on Bleacres was rapidly ripening under the beams of thepowerful sun. The Manor-house was islanded amidst a golden sea of grain,the waves of which rolled up even to its ancient walls. The winding pathto the boundary channel was still the sole means of approach, but fewpeople came up this to the house, as the Vands were not popular. Henrycertainly was approved of, on account of his manners, his affliction,and his violin-playing; but the neighbours, ignorant of the truth, couldnot forgive his wife for robbing Bella of her inheritance. Now that shewas rich and re-married, it was Mrs. Vand's intention to become thegreat lady of the district, but hitherto she had not met with muchsuccess in her bid for popularity.
But, in spite of cold looks and significant speeches, Mrs. Vand wentfrom house to house, talking of a Harvest Home fete, which she proposedto give as soon as the grain was reaped. Her husband would not accompanyher on these social visits, as he was shrewd enough to see that onlytime would ameliorate the bad impression which Mrs. Vand's callousconduct had created. In vain he tried to show his wife that it would bewise to retire for a short period. Mrs. Vand scorned such Fabiantactics, and did her best to take by storm the position she felt thather wealth and personality deserved. The more she was snubbed, the moreshe persisted, and there was no doubt but what, in the end, she wouldgain what she wanted, by wearing down those who resented her conduct.
Mrs. Vand paid a visit even to Dora Ankers, choosing a Saturdayafternoon, when she knew that Bella was walking on the common with herlover. The little school-mistress received her coldly, as she had neverliked the woman from the first day she had set eyes on her. But Mrs.Vand, in the most flamboyant of costumes, was all smiles and small talk,refusing to see for one moment the chilly reception she was receiving.
"You really must come to our Harvest Home, Miss Ankers," she babbled;"what with Henry's taste and my money, it will be wonderfully gay andbright and artistic. Everyone will help to reap the corn, and in theevening we will have a ball, at which Henry will play old English tunes,to which we shall dance. You must come. I shall take no refusal."
"How can I?" asked Dora tartly, "seeing that your niece whom you havetreated so badly, is stopping with me."
Mrs. Vand drew up her stout figure with great dignity. "That BellaHuxham left her home and my guardianship is purely her own fault," shereplied. "I promised to look after her, at poor Jabez's request. But shechose to behave in a way of which I did not approve, and to engageherself to a man, who is not the husband I should have picked for her."
"Bella has every right to choose a husband for herself," retorted MissAnkers.
"Girls are not clever enough to choose the right man. And Mr.Lister----"
"You know nothing about him, Mrs. Vand."
"That is exactly what I complain of," said the other woman triumphantly,"he may be a rogue and a scamp."
"He may be, but he is not. Mr. Lister is a gentleman."
"That doesn't prevent his being a bad character."
"Well," said Dora, rising to terminate the visit, "I don't care aboutdiscussing my friends."
Mrs. Vand rose also. "Let us shelve the subject," she said grandly, "andyou can tell Bella that I am willing to forgive and forget. If she likesto come to our Harvest Home, she can do so. I am not the one to bearmalice. It is the last Harvest Home we shall have," prattled Mrs. Vand,as her hostess skilfully edged her towards the door. "Henry does notintend to sow wheat again, and the grounds of Bleacres will be thrownopen to the public."
"People are not fond of wandering in marshes," said Dora dryly. "If youwant to please us, throw open the Manor-house. That is interesting, ifyou like."
"And haunted," said the visitor in a thrilling whisper; "do you know ofany sad legend connected with the Manor-house, Miss Ankers?"
"No!" snapped Dora, tartly; then her curiosity got the better of herdislike for Mrs. Vand. "Is it really haunted?"
"There are footsteps, and whisperings, and rappings in the twilight. Itold Henry that if this sort of thing continued, I should leave theplace."
Privately, Dora wished that she would, and thus rid the neighbourhood ofa most undesirable presence, but aloud she merely remarked that thenoises might be due to rats, a suggestion which Mrs. Vand scouted.
"It's a ghost, a ghost!" she insisted--"all old families have a ghost.But do not let us talk of it," she continued, looking round with ashudder; "already the thing has got on my nerves. To go to a morepleasant subject: let me invite you for a row on the water."
"A row on the water?" echoed Dora, who knew of no lake in theneighbourhood.
"On the channel at the end of my grounds," explained Mrs. Vand. "Henryhas bought a rowing-boat, and takes me far into the country. You canalmost reach the railway line before you get to the swamps. Do come."
"I'll think about it," said Miss Ankers, only anxious to get her visitorout of the house before Bella came back.
"Do, dear, and come to our Harvest Home. It will be quite artistic: youhave no idea of Henry's perfect taste, and if Bella comes I shall beglad to see her, in spite of her nasty behaviour, and--and----" Mrs.Vand could think of nothing more to say, so took herself off, with agracious smile, quite sure that she had played the part of a great ladyto perfection.
"Ugh!" said Dora, looking after the stout, gaudily-clothed figure,"you're a spiteful cat, if ever there was one. I shouldn't be surprisedto hear that you had killed your brother yourself, in order to get themoney."
Unaware of this amiable speech, Mrs. Vand sailed grandly through thevillage, dispensing smiles and patronage. Fortunately for herself, shewas not a thought-reader, or her self-satisfaction might have received asevere reproof. She was considered to be considerably worse thanJezebel, and in her stoutness was compared to the late Mrs. Manning, anotable murderess. To her face many were agreeable, but usually she wasnot received with the best grace. Finally, towards the evening, shereturned to the Manor-house to report on her triumphs.
Crossing the boundary-channel, she saw the boat which her husband hadlately bought. It was a narrow but comfortable craft of a light build,and the water-way was quite broad enough to permit of its being rowedvery comfortably, even though the oars occasionally touched the banks.Mrs. Vand looked at this boat with a singular expression, and then,stepping across the planks, walked up to her lordly abode. She foundthat her husband was absent, and had left word with the servant that hewould not be back to dinner. Mrs. Vand was annoyed, as she did not likeeating alone; but in her heart of hearts she was afraid of her quiethusband, even though he was considerably her junior, and made nocomment. However, the servant who brought in the seven o'clock tea hadmuch to say, and Mrs. Vand permitted her to talk, for, as usual, thesinister influence of the Manor was getting on her healthy nerves.
"Master's gone to the village, to see his ma," said the servant, who wassmall and elfish and somewhat brazen. "Then he's going to see Tunks."
"What's the matter with Tunks?" asked Mrs. Vand, pouring out the tea.
"He's ill. He's been drinking hard for weeks, ever since that horridmurder, mum, and now the doctor says he's got delirious trimmings."
Mrs. Vand looked up sharply, and frowned. "He is raving?"
"Raving hard, mum. But master will see that he is looked after."
"Your master is very good," said Mrs. Vand, taking a piece of bread."You can go, Sarah."
The servant departed somewhat unwillingly, as she did not like the big,bare kitchen, and felt the influence of the unseen as did her mistress.But as yet, ghostly doings had not been sufficiently scaring to make herthrow up a good situation. Nevertheless, she shivered in the kitchen,and wished that Tunks was present to keep her company, as he often did,at the evening meal. But Tunks was raving at the present moment in thehut on the marshes, and there was no chance of anyone else coming toBleacres.
Mrs. Vand sat and shivered in the dining-room also. She lighted threelamps, and although the evening was warm, she set fire to the coals andwood in the large, o
ld-fashioned grate. It seemed to her that she couldnot have enough light or warmth to ward off the cold, maliciousinfluence, which seemed to spread a sinister atmosphere throughout thevast room. Shivering at the head of the table, Mrs. Vand kept castingfurtive looks here and there, as though she expected to see theblood-stained figure of her murdered brother appear like Banquo'sspectre. Outside the twilight gradually deepened to luminous darkness,and although she had finished her tea, she did not feel inclined to moveabout the gloomy passages. Again and again, she wished that Henry wouldreturn.
At nine o'clock her nerves were still shaky, and she felt that she couldnot stand the dining-room any longer. Ringing the bell, she took a lampin each hand, and told Sarah--who entered speedily--to take the other.The two women proceeded to the drawing-room, and Mrs. Vand, havingpulled down the blinds, ordered Sarah to bring her work and sit besideher. The servant was only too pleased to obey, and for the nexthalf-hour the two sat in pleasant gossiping confabulation, Mrs. Vandknitting a silk tie for her husband, and Sarah trimming a wonderful hatwith aggressively brilliant flowers. There was no noise, as the wind haddropped, and everything was intensely still. Mrs. Vand and Sarahchattered incessantly to keep up their courage in the ghostlyatmosphere. Suddenly--
"Listen!" said Mrs. Vand, raising her hand. "Do you hear?"
Sarah turned white through her dingy skin, and held her breath. Therecame distinctly the sound of three knocks from somewhere near thefire-place; then a long, dreary sigh. The servant shrieked, and sprangfor the door. But Mrs. Vand was after her in one moment, and seized her."Hold your tongue, you fool! It's only rats."
As if to give the lie to her statement, there came the swish, swish ofsilken skirts, and then the sigh again. This was too much for Mrs. Vand.She scuttled panic-stricken into the hall, followed by the shriekingSarah. At the same moment, as though it had been prearranged, the frontdoor opened and Vand appeared.
"Oh, Henry! Henry!" gasped his wife, and clung to him.
The young man shook her off. "What is the matter?" he asked in calmtones. But Mrs. Vand being too terrified to answer, Sarah did so forher. "The ghost! the ghost! the ghost!"
"What rubbish!" said Vand, easily; "there is no ghost, you silly girl,and if there is, here is one who can lay it."
He stepped aside, and Granny Tunks, lean and weird-looking, appeared atthe door. She had a white cloak over her fantastic dress, and lookedmore witch-like than ever. Mrs. Vand stared at the woman in surprise."Why have you left your grandson?" she asked, and glancing at Henry.
"He's sound asleep, deary, the fit having passed. A gal o' mine, of thetrue Romany breed, looking after him. Your sweet husband here"--shewaved a skinny hand towards Vand--"asked me to come and see what I coulddo to lay this unquiet spirit who walks."
"Rubbish! rubbish!" said Mrs. Vand, now feeling more confident incompany.
"It's not rubbish, deary," said Mrs. Tunks, mysteriously; "the deadwalk."
"The dead?"
"Your poor brother, as is uneasy at having been pitched out of life socruel. He's walking," and she nodded weirdly.
On hearing this statement, Sarah whimpered and clutched at Mrs. Vand'sdress, whereupon that lady who was extremely pale herself--shook heroff. "Go to bed, Sarah," she commanded.
"Me!" screeched the girl, "and when there's ghosts walking! I'd screammyself into fits if I went up-stairs."
Mrs. Vand appealed to her husband. "Henry, make her go."
The young man took the girl by the shoulders, and propelled her towardsthe foot of the stairs, but Sarah resisted wildly, and finally made abolt for the still open front door. "I'll go home to mother," she criedhysterically, and disappeared into the darkness.
"There," said Mrs. Vand, angrily, to Granny Tunks. "See what you'vedone. The house will get a bad name. I'll give that minx warning in themorning."
Vand, seeing that it was useless to run after the terrified Sarah, whoby this time was half-way to Marshely, closed the door, and shrugged hisshoulders. "Come into the drawing-room," he said to Mrs. Tunks.
"No, no!" cried his wife, shaking; "the ghost is there. I heard therapping and the sighing and the----"
"Yes, yes, yes!" interrupted Vand, with less than his usual coolness;"that is why I have brought Granny. There is an evil influence in thishouse, and I want her to find out what it is."
"Do you believe in such rubbish?"
"You seemed to believe in it just now," said the cripple drily. "Yes, Ido believe in the unseen, as I have had too much proof not to believe."
"Then get a priest, get a priest!" cried Mrs. Vand wildly, and lookingtwice her age. "What is the use of this old fool?"
Granny Tunks laughed in an elfish manner when she heard herself spokenof thus, and seemed very little put out. "A fool can do what a wisewoman can't," she croaked; "your husband's wiser nor you, deary. Heknows."
"Knows what?" asked Mrs. Vand, turning on the ancient gipsy fiercely.
"That there's danger coming to you and him."
Mrs. Vand cast one scared and indignant look on the withered face, andran into the drawing-room. Henry had preceded her here, and was standingby the table looking round the room in an inquiring manner, evidently onthe alert for the mysterious sounds. Mrs. Vand caught his arm. "Do youhear what this woman says?" she asked, shaking him.
"As the door was open I did hear," he replied coolly; "don't be a fool,Rosamund. I brought her here to see what she can tell us."
"About?--" Mrs. Vand faltered and broke down.
"Hold your tongue!" said Henry with an angry hiss like that of aserpent.
Usually the young man wore a mild and gentle expression, but on thisnight his face was haggard and his eyes were wild. He had all his witsabout him, however, and forced his wife into a chair, where she sattrembling violently. "I've had enough of these ghostly pranks," he saidin a fierce undertone, "and as Granny undoubtedly possesses clairvoyantpowers, I wish her to learn all she can. Come in, Mrs. Tunks!" he added,raising his voice, and the old witch-wife entered the room, lookingsingularly weird in her white cloak.
"Is that the only reason that you have asked Granny here?" demanded Mrs.Vand, in a low voice. "Sarah told me that her grandson had been raving."
"You fool!" snarled the cripple. "Will you hold your tongue? I haveanother purpose, which you will find out shortly. Granny," he pointed toa chair, "sit down and tell us what influences are about."
Mrs. Tunks sat in the indicated chair, and lay back with closed eyes.Vand and his wife remained perfectly still, the latter gazing at the oldwitch in a terrified manner, as though dreading what she would say anddo. The room was filled with shadows, even though three lamps werelighted, and the silence became quite oppressive. Mrs. Vand was ahealthy animal, and not in the least imaginative, but after a time shefelt that some evil influence was in the room, and tightly gripped herhusband's hand. The perspiration broke out on her forehead. Henry gaveher no comfort, not even by pressing her hand. His eyes were fixed onthe perfectly expressionless and still face of Granny Tunks. The seancehad all the elements of terror about it.
The gipsy lay as still as though carved out of stone, and the watcherscould scarcely see the rise and fall of her breath. Deeper and deepergrew the stillness, so that even the fall of a pin could have beenheard, had one been dropped. Apparently the body of Granny lay supine inthe chair, but her spirit was far away--roaming the house, maybe. Aftera long pause, the woman began to speak in a low, expressionless voice,and almost without moving her withered lips.
"Gems," she said softly, "rare gems, blue and red and green; jewels ofprice and pearls of the ocean. They are in an ivory box. Long ago thewoman who is standing near me"--Mrs. Vand started, looked, but could seenothing, yet the monotonous voice went on, as though the speaker reallysaw the form described--"wore those jewels. She has the face of a Romanempress. In Africa, many centuries ago--yes, in Africa, and she sinnedto get those jewels. Now she laments that she has lost them."
"How did she lose them?" asked Vand almost in a whisper,
as thoughfearful of breaking the charm. Apparently--as Mrs. Vand guessed--thiswas not the first time he had assisted at so weird a ceremony.
"Fierce warriors in green turbans took them--warriors of Arabia. Thejewels travel south, still with the warriors. There are many fights. Thejewels pass from one hand to another, still in the ivory box. Now asavage has them--a savage, in a wild forest. They are buried in theearth at the place where victims are sacrificed to the gods. Long yearspass: centuries glide by. The box of jewels is found: it is in the handsof another savage, who wears European clothes. He gives the jewels to awhite man for services rendered."
Mrs. Vand interrupted with a strangled cry of terror. "Jabez--is heJabez?"
"He is not Jabez Huxham, but a man called Maxwell Faith. But see"--thedull voice of the gipsy suddenly became emotional and loud--"they passinto the hands of Jabez Huxham, and the hands that bear away the jewelsare stained with blood. The jewels pass with him across the sea to thisland. In London first; then in this house. They are placed in a carvedchest; it is in the attic. Now they are in the safe in the study, andnow----"
Vand interrupted. "How did they pass out of Huxham's possession?"
Granny Tunks did not reply for a few minutes, during which Mrs. Vandclutched her husband's hand still tighter, and passed her tongue overher dry lips. "They pass from Jabez Huxham, as they came to him--bymurder," went on the clairvoyant. "I see the study. Huxham is at thedesk, and the ivory box of jewels is before him. There is a knife on thefloor by the door, and the knife is bloody."
"But Huxham is not dead," said Vand, quickly and softly.
"There is blood on the knife," said Mrs. Tunks, without taking anynotice of the question. "Huxham is so engaged in looking at the jewelsthat he does not see the door softly open. A man enters. He sees theknife and picks it up. He glided behind Huxham, who suddenly turns.Now--now the blow has fallen, and the jewels, the jewels----" Shepaused.
"What more?" gasped Mrs. Vand. "What more, in God's name?"
"There is no God here, but only evil," came the reply. "I can see nomore. I see, however, that the man who struck the blow is a cripple,and----"
There came a cry, apparently from behind the wall. Vand and his wifeturned astonished and terror-struck. On the left of the fire-place asliding panel was pushed back, and they beheld Bella, pale buttriumphant.
"So you murdered Captain Huxham!" she cried, "you and your wife. OGod----"
"There is no God here," breathed Mrs. Tunks again, "only evil."