TERRIBLE EFFECTS OF A FRIGHT.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume VII, Issue 69, 26 September 1901, Page 3

TERRIBLE EFFECTS OF A FRIGHT.

H TRUE STOBY. *+~* IN THREE PARTS. ——::o:: PART 11. 'Servants were handing round tea and coffee, and other refreshments. Then there was a little music and singing. I sang a duet with Reginald, who had a fine voice good .musical skill. I remember that-my : singing was much praised, and indeed I was surprised at the power and pathos of my own voice, doubtless due to my excited nerves and mind. Then I heard some one say to another that I was by far the cleverest of the Squire's daughters, as well <vS the prettiest. It did not make me vain. I had no rivalry with Lucy and Minnie. But Reginald whispered some fond words in my ear, a little before he mounted his horse to set off homewards, which made me happy and proud. And to think that the next time we met—but I forgave him long ago. Poor Reginald ! And now shawls and cloaks were in request, and carriages rolled up to the porch, and the guests gradually departed. At last no one was left but those visitors staying in the house. Then my father, who had been called out to speak with the bailiff of the estate, came back with a look of annoyance on his face. ' 'A strange story I have just been told,' said he; 'here has been my bailiff to inform me of the loss of four of the choicest ewes out of that little flock of Southdowns I set such store by, and which arrived in the north but two months since. And the poor creatures have been destroyed in such a strange manner, for their carcasses are horribly mangled.' ' Most of us uttered some expression of pity or surprise, and some suggested that a vicious clog was probably the culprit. '' It would seem so,' said my father; 1 it certainly seems the work of a dog ; and yet all the men agree that no dog of such habits exists near us, where, indeed, dogs are scarce, excepting the shepherds' collies and the sporting dogs secured in yards. Yet the sheep are gnawed and bitten, for they show the marks of teeth. Something has done this, and has torn their bodies wolfishly; but apparently it has been only to suck the blood, for little or no flesh is gone.' '' How very strange !' cried several voices. Then some of the gentlemen remembered to have heard of cases when dogs addicted to sheep-killing had destroyed whole flocks, as if in sheer wantonness, scarcely deigning to taste a morsel of each slain wether. ' My father shook his head. ' I have heard of such cases, too,',he said ; ' but in this instance I am tempted to think the malice of some unknown enemy has been at work. The teeth of a dog have been busy no doubt, but the poor sheep have been mutilated in a fantastic manner, as strange as horrible; their hearts, in especial, have been torn out, and left at some paces off, half-gnawed. Also, the men persist that they found the print of a naked human foot in the soft mud of the ditch, and near it—this.' And he held up what seemed a broken link of a rusted iron chain. 'Many were the ejaculations of wonder and alarm, and many and shrewd the conjectures, but none seemed exactly to suit the bearings of the case. And when my father went on to say that two lambs of the same valuable breed had perished in the same singular manner three days previously, and that they also were found mangled and blood-stained, the amazement reached fever heat. 1 Old Lady Speldhurst listened with calm intelligent attention, but joined in none of our exclamations. ' At length she said to my father, ' Try and recollect—have you no enemy among your neighbours V ' My father started, and knit his -brows. ' Not one that I know of,' he replied; and indeed he was a popular man and a kind landlord. '' The more lucky you,' said the old dame, with one of her grim smiles. ' It was now late, and we retired to rest. One by one the guests left. I was the member of the family selected to escort Lady Speldhurst to her room —the room I had vacated in her favour. I 'did not much like the office. I felt a remarkable repugnance to my godmother, but my worthy aunts insisted so much that I should ingratiate myself with one who had so much to leave, that I could not but comply. The visitor hobbled up the broad oaken stairs actively enough, propped on my arm and her'ivory crutch. The room never had looked more genial and pretty, with its brisk fire, modern furniture, and the gay French paper on the walls. '' A very nice room, my dear, and I ought to be much obliged to you for it, since my maid tells me it is yours,' said her ladyship; ' but I am pretty sure you repent your kindness to me, f after all those ghost stories, and tremble to think of a strange bed and chamber, eh?' ' I made some commonplace reply. 'The old lady arched her eyebrows. ' Where have they put you, child V she asked; ' in some cockloft of the .turrets,. eh? or in a lumber-room—a regular ghost-trap 1 I can hear your heart "beating with fear this moment. You are not fit to be alone.' ' I tried to call up my pride, and

laugh off the accusati... i against my courage, all the more, perhaps, because I felt its truth.

'Do you want anything more that I can get you, Lady Speldhurst 1 ?' I asked, trying to feign a yawn of sleepiness. 'The old dame's keen eyes were upon me. '' I rather like you, my dear,' she said, ' and I liked your mamma well enough before she treated me so shamefully about the christening dinner. Now, I know you are frightened and fearful, and if an owl should but flap your window to-night, it might drive you into fits. There is a nice little sofa-bed in this dressing-chamber —call your maid to arrange it for you, and you can sleep there snugly, under the old witch's protection, and then no goblin dare harm you, and nobody will be a bit the wiser, or quiz you for being afraid.' ' How little I knew what hung in the balance of my refusal or acceptance of that trivial proffer ! Had the veil of the future been lifted for one instant! but that veil is impenetrable to our gaze. Yet, perhaps, she had a glimpse of the dim vista beyond, she who made the offer ; for when I declined, with an affected laugh, she said, in a thoughtful, half-abstracted manner, ' Well, well! we must all take our own way through life. Good night, child—pleasant dreams!' And I softly closed the door. As I did so, she looked round at me rapidly, with a glance I" have never forgotten, half malicious, half sad, as if she had divined the yawning gulf that was to devour my young hopes. It may have been mere the odd phantasy of a crooked mind, the whimsical conduct of a cynical person, triumphant in the power of affrighting youth and beauty. Or, I have since thought, it may have been that this singular guest possessed some such gift as the Highland ' second sight,' a gift vague, sad, and useless to the possessor, but still sufficient to convey a dim sense of coming evil and boding doom. And yet, had she really known what was in store for me, what lurked behind the veil of the future, not even that arid heart could have remained impassive to the cry of humanity. She she must have snatched me back, even from the edge of the black pit of misery. But, doubtless, she had not the power. Doubtless she had but a shadowy presentiment, at any rate, of some harm to happen, and could not see, save darkly, into the viewless void where the wisest stumble. I left her door. As I crossed the landing a bright gleam came from another room, whose door was left ajar; it (the light) fell like a bar of golden sheen across my path. As I approached, the door opened, and my sister Lucy, who had been watching for me, came out. She was already in a cashmere wrapper, over which her lessened hair hung darkly and heavily, like tangles of silk.

'' Rosa, my love,' she whispered, ' Minnie and I can't bear the idea of your sleeping out there, all alone, in that solitary room—the very room, too, Nurse Sherrard used to talk about! So, as you know Minnie has given up her room, and come to sleep in mine, still we should so wish you to stop with us to-night at any rate, and I could make up a bed on the sofa for myself, or you —and ' 'I stopped Lucy's mouth with a kiss. I declined her offer. I would not listen to it. In fact, my pride was up in arms, and I felt I would rather pass the night in a.churchyard itself than accept a proposal dictated, I felt sure, by the notion that my nerves were shaken by the ghostly lore we had been raking up, that I was a weak, superstitious creature, unable to pass a night in a strange chamber. So I would not listen to Lucy, but kissed her, bade her good-night, and went on my way laughing, to show my light heart. Yet, as I looked back in the dark corridor, and saw the friendly door still ajar, the yellow bar of light still crossing from wall to wall, the sweet kind face still peering after me from amid, its clustering curls, I felt a thrill of sympathy, a wish to return, a yearning after human love and companionship. False shame was strongest, and conquered. I waved my gay adieu- I turned the corner, and, peering over my shoulder, I saw the door close; the bar of yellow light was there no longer in the darkness of the passage. I thought, at that instant, that I heard a heavy sigh. I looked sharply round. No one was there. No door was open, yet I fancied, and fancied with a wonderful vividness, that I did hear an actual sigh breathed not far off, and plainly distinguishable from the groan of the sycamore branches, as the wind tossed them to and fro in the outer darkness. If ever a mortal's good angel had cause to sigh for sorrow, not sin, mine had cause to mourn that night. But imagination plays us strange tricks, and my nervous system was not over-composed,*or very fitted for judicial analysis. I had to go through the picture-gallery. I had never entered this apartment by candlelight before, and was struck by the dreary array of the tall portraits, gazing moodily from the canvas on the lozenge-paned or painted windows, which rattled to the blast as it SAvept by. Many of the faces looked stern, and very different from their daylight expression. In others, a furtive nickering smile seemed to mock me, as my candle illumined them ; and in all, the eyes, as usual with artistic portraits, seemed to follow my motions with a scrutiny and an interest the more marked for the apathetic immovability of the other features. I felt ill at ease under this stony gaze, though conscious how absurd were my apprehensions; and I called up a smile and an air of mirth, more as if acting a part under the eyes of human beings, than of their mere shadows on

the wall. T even laughed as I confronted them. No echo had my shortlived laughter but from the hollow armour and arching roof, and I continued on my way in silence. I have spoken of the armour. Indeed, there was a fine collection of plate and mail, for my father was an enthusiastic antiquary. In especial there were two suits of black armour, erect, and surmounted by helmets with closed visors, which stood as if two mailed champions were guarding the gallery and its treasures. I had often seen these, of course, but never by night, and never when my whole organisation was so overwrought and tremulous as it was then. As I approached the Black Knights, as we had dubbed them, a wild notion seized on me thai; the figures moved, that men were concealed in the hollow shells which had once been borne in battle and tourney. I knew the idea was childish, yet I approached in irrational alarm, and fancied I absolutely beheld eyes glaring on me from the eyelet-holes in the visors. I passed them by, and .then my excited fancy told me that the figures were following me with stealthy strides. I heard a clatter of steel, caused, I am sure, by some more violent gust of wind sweeping the gallery through the crevices of the old windows, and with a smothered shriek I rushed to the door, opened it, darted out, and clapped it to with a bang that re-echoed through the whole of the house. Then by a sudden and not uncommon revulsion of feeling, I shook off my aimless terrors, blushed at my weakness, and sought my chamber only too glad that I had been the only witness of my late tremors. As I entered my chamber, I fancied I heard something stir in the lumber-room, which was the only neighbouring apartment. But I was determined to have no more panics, and resolutely shut my ears to this slight and transient noise, which had nothing unnatural in it; for surely, between rats and wind, an old manor-house on a stormy night needs no spirits to disturb it. So I entered my room, and rang for my maid. As I did so, I looked around me, and a most unaccountable repugnance to my temporary abode came over me, in spite of my efforts. It was no more to be shaken off than a chill is to be shaken off when we enter ssme damp cave. And, rely upon it, the feeling of dislike and apprehension with which we regard, at first s:ght, certain places and people, was not implanted in us without some wholesome purpose. I grant it is irrational —mere animal instinct —but is not instinct God's gift, and is it for us.to despise it 1 It is by instinct that children know their friends from their enemies—that they distinguish with such unerring accuracy between those who like them and those who only flatter and hate them. Dogs do the same; they will fawn on one person, they slink snarling from another. Show me a man whom children and dogs shrink from, and I will show you a false, bad man—lies on his lips, and murder at his heart. No; let none despise the heaven-sent gift of innate antipathy, which makes the horse quail when the lion crouches in the thicket —which makes the cattle scent the shambles from afar, and low in terror and disgust as their nostrils sniff the blood-polluted air. I felt this antipathy strongly as I looked around me in my new sleeping-room, and yet I could find no reasonable pretext for my dislike. A very nice room it was, after all, now that the damask curtains were drawn, the fire burning bright and clear, candles burning on the mantelpiece, and the various familiar articles of toilet arranged as usual. The bed, too, looked peaceful and inviting—a pretty little white bed, not at all the gaunt funereal sort of couch which haunted apartments generally contain. My maid entered, and assisted me to lay aside the dress and ornaments I had worn, and arranged my hair, as usual, prattling the while, in Abigail fashion. I seldom cared to converse with servants; but that night a sort of dread of being left alone—a longing to keep some human being near me—possessed me, and I encouraged the girl to gossip, so that her duties took her half an hour longer to get through than usual. At last, however, she had done all that could be done, and all my questions were answered, and my orders for the morrow reiterated and vowed obedience to, and the clock on the turret struck one. Then Mary, yawning a little, asked me if I wanted anything more, and I was obliged to answer No, for very shame's sake; and she left me. The shutting of the door, gently as it was closed, affected me unpleasantly. I took a dislike to the curtains, the tapestry, the dingy pictures—everything. 1 hated the room. I felt a temptation to put on a cloak, run, half-dressed, to my sisters' chamber, and say I had changed my mind, and come for shelter. But they must be asleep, I thought, and I could not be so unkind as to wake them. I said my prayers with unusual earnestness and a heavy heart. I extinguished the candles, and was just about to lay my head on my pillow, when the idea seized me that I would fasten the door. The candles were extinguished, but the fire-light was amply sufficient to guide me. I reached the door. There was a lock, but it was rusty or hammered; my utmost strength could not turn the key. The bolt was broken and worthless. Baulked of my intention, I returned to bed. I lay awake, watching the red glow of the fire in the grate. I was quiet now, and more composed. Even the light gossip of the maid, full of petty human cares and joys, had done me good—diverted my thoughts from brooding. But there was somethin" unnatural about the room which made my very blood curdle with fear. To Be Concluded.