LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4937, 28 February 1884, Page 4

LITERATURE.

« i WHAT WAS HE? (All the Year Round.) (Concluded.) Deo. 23rd.— Something has happened •which has upset me terribly. I do not know what to think of it, whether I am under a delusion, or am not bo strong as I was ; or what it portends, if '. indeed it portends anything. If John were only hero! but, he left yesterday for Dullminster on a visit to the bishop, and will not be back till thi3 afternoon. Perhaps, too, ho would only laugh at mo. Once before, that. time in . Bloomsbury, ho said it- was imagination ; and now -. But I had better write it all down. Perhaps if it looks ridiculous on paper, I may be able to feel the foolishness of it in myself. I was going down to tho church yesterday afternoon to see about the decorations. There is a narrow lane dividing tho Priory grounds from the churchyard, which makes a short cut from our house to the latter ; and along this I was hurrying, when, midway in it, I encountered Colonel Thorpe. He was carrying a leather hand-bag, as if bound on a journey, and as it was the first time I had had on opportunity of seeing him close, I naturally slackened my pace a little, bo as to get a better view of him. Believe me when I say it, I had no other thought in my mind, no other motive than the natural womanly curiosity to look at one who was not only oiu* nearest neighbour, but a man of good position in the County , and my first glance at the tall erect figure, tho white looto, and long grey moustache gave mo a distinct feeling of aftiniration. In the same moment, howover, I -was conscious of a change coming over mo, a kind of coldness, mingled with anervou b ihrill,whioh quickened as he drew nearer. Instinctively I hung back, a sort of chilled expectancy, though of what I knew not, clogging my stops j while my contrary impulse, dread, blended with desire, drew my eyes more •eagerly to Ms. A double wave of memory seemed to sweep over me — sharp peaks of dazzling snow rising against a .sapphire sky, the scent of heaped white flowers on a silent form ; and anon a close sick-room, cold clutching hands, and the wail pf a babe near by. A mist was gathering over my gaze, my hands felt «old, my head giddy ; and instead of the man before me, I Beonied to see the outline of a window filled with lurid flame, and gleaming out of it a pair of oyes, fierce, dark, with hugely dilated pupilß, and irises of a tawny yellow, glowing like two hellish coals with inward fire; the very eyes — Heaven help me now, as I speak the truth ! — which seven years before had mot mine over the lifeless body of the City clerk's young wife, which once again, seven years before that, had lit with such a wild and ghastly glare'the dark face of the young Frenchman in the Swiss chalet. And then, in the same moment, the mist cleared, and I saw the eyes only, and knew that they were in Colonol Thorpe's face, and .'that they recognised me ! Aye,' believe it or not, they did ; and I knew it, not by any process which I could describe to you, but by that nameless sympathetic flash and thrill, that upleaping "Something": in 'the gaze, which says to you, and everyone meeting it, whether they can answer it or not, " I know you !" There was no syllable spoken, no pause on either side. We met, and passed, and I went on to the church, but in such a tumult of feeling as I pray that I may never experience again — shaken, and filled by such an overpowering sense of some terrible impending calamity, which shook me to my very centre with impotent terror and anxiety. For what could I do, or say, that would not proclaim me a hopeless maniac, were I to strive to avert an evil, which even in my madness (if madness it was) I could not dare to put into worßs, could I find words to put it in, and which all the time I feel'myßelf helplessly powerless to avert ? "Was I to call at the Priory, to intrude on its stately young mistress, and implore her to fly from her home and seek shelter with a stranger like me, from her own natural protector, tho husband for whose love she had given up her own holiest hopes and amßitions P And yet it was over her head that I knew the doom to be impending ; and, hour by hour, as I sat trying ix> work or read in my own peaceful house, T felt it coming nearer and nearer to the iill-fated one adjoining us, and saw again the mocking pitiless gleam of those eyes defying me to war against the lost soul behind them. And it only wanted two dayß to Christmas. Everything else looked so gay, so tranquil. I even caught a glimpse of her dnring the day Bpeaking to a couple of poor tramps at the gate, and bringing them bread and meat m her own hands. I must hurry on. When night, came I could not sleep. I had felt better and more cheerful during the evening. In fact I had taken the -trouble to ascertain that Colonel Thorpe had really been starting for London when I saw him .that afternoon, and would not return till next day. The doom, then, -whatever it might be, was not to fall immediately on its'innocentmctim. Providence might even yet show me some' means for warding it off, and directly I felt this my spirits rose, and I even. felt able to laugh at myself for my forebodings, and to feel glad John was not at home to scold me for them. But alter I was in bed sleep v would not come to me. I was not ill or feverish, my head did not ;ache. There was nothing the matter with me except that, .try as 1 might, my eyes would not close inslumber. I remained wide awake for a couple of hours or more, and at last, wearied of lying thus, got up and went to the window, meaning to look out at tho night before lighting a candle and trying to read myself to Bleep. It was then just on the stroke of one. "The whole town was asleep and over everything reigned perfect stillness. Opposite me was "fine Priory, shuttered and silent too, and its gardens white with frost and bathed in the full rays of the moon, save whore a belt of trees or shrubbery cast darkly-waving shadows on the silvered surface. I was Btill gazing, when suddenly one of these ahadows seemed to detadh itself from • the rest, and glide forward with a motion suggestive of some crouching creature unwilling to bo seen. Involuntarily the old woman's story of the Priory ghost -flashed back upon my mind, and I leant forward to Bee hotter j but In the same moment tho moon had passed behind a cloud, and the shadow disappeared, sucked back into the general obscurity <of the shrubß through winch it hod seemed to be creeping s only for an instant, however. The next, the full silver orb rode out again calm and 'bright as ever upon the blue expanse, and as it did so the 'bushes swayed and parted, and out from among them stepped a tall black figure, 'which stood erecb in the mooribeams — no ghost, but a man, and the man I 'haft 'thought of at that moment as far and safely, away — Colonel Thorpe ! There was no inistftirang him ; no possibility of delusion. For two full seconds Tie stood there in the white moonlight, dressed as I had seen him earlier in tho day, with his blanched hair and long curved moustache glittering in the. silver rays, and then pliingod again into the shadow, and disappeared in. the direction of the house. January 30, 1883. — It is many weeks ainco I have written in my diary. I hnxe been ill for almost tho first thae in my life — very ill. They would net even let mewrito letters for some time, but now that I am well and feeling strong again I must add a few words. I think it was about mid-day on Christmas Eve that the news reached us that young Mrs Thorpe was dead. The lady'a moid had found her bed unslopt in in the morning, and on Bearch being made sho waa discovered in tho library (a room in the older part of tho hotwe) on hoi 1 knees, and stone dead. It seemed that sho had told the maid on the provious ovening not to wait up for her, as she had promised to do some copying for the colonel, which might lteop her up lato ; and from her position, combined with the papers on tho table and an overturned chair behind her, it was surmised that she had beon suddenly startled from her occupation by some sight or sound

— though ' What noue could say — and had actually diud of fright. Colonol Thorpo was away iv London at the time, but by <a curious chance had left for home before the telegram summoning him arrived, and appeared among the bowilderud.and terrified servants within half an hour of their discovery i>i' his wife's body. One of them told mo afterwards it was a sight to mako the bravest shudder — ho standing their gazing at her as if turned into Btono, and she, his wife, Btretched at his feet with that awful look of terror— the terror that had killed her — still staring dumbly from her dead face, and the silver cros3 she generally wore held stiffly up in both the poor cold hands, as if in mute appeal to Heaven. The husband has gone abroad again now, and the Priory is once more untenanted. They say it will be pulled down. After what has happened this time no one will ever live iv it again. With this fragment from my diary, my story ends. I have nothing more to say, and jio arguments to put forward. If indeed such a thing be possible as that the curse of a lost and reckless soul should be allowed to take actual form and shape, and by the mere revehition for ono instant of its infernal personality, crush out instantaneously and irremediably the spark of life in its hapless victims, it is not for me to say, nor is this the place for the discussion of such suggestions. All I can do is to state the facts as they occurred. If to other minds they offer an easier explanation, I am glad of it.