MERVYN COURT.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVI, Issue 8, 24 June 1898, Page 27

MERVYN COURT.

(By E. Li:ahy, in the Catholic Fin side.') Lar<;e ,-now-flakes fell thick and fast, covering with their soft, fleecy mantle the dense, overgrown wilderness of shrubs ani bushes surrounding Mervyn Court, and veiling the ivy-covered front oi the old h'liisc with the mdip <n\r white rlrappry. Snow wai rare in that mild southern climate, and the feathery parriole» flutter* d hither and thither in their descent, as it they had lost their way or were shy ot alighting on the fahrivelled vegetation. From one of the windows, deep sunk in the massive stonework of the ancient mansion, a young girl looked forth at the wintry t-cene, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watched the light flakes whirled wantonly to and fio by the wind. Although Gladys Luttn.ll was eighteen years of age. a snowstorm afforded her as much pleasure u& when she was a curly-headed fairy of five. •I will ran out and make a pair of snowballs and catch Rex when he comes through the gate. Oh ! what fun ! ' she exclaimed, clapping her hands and running out of the room, with a parting glanje in the looking-glass on her dre.-sing-table. It was a charming image that was reflected in the mirror : eyes blue as the ferget-me-not, dancing with fun, a complexion delicate as the bloom of a wild rose, while from under the fur cap which ahe had donned for her escapade a wreath of golden curls strayed eoquettishly over her white brow. Her dress was worn and shabby, but the girls sweet face and exquisite figure made it as becoming as the finest masterpiece of art and fashion. She r in lighty down the stairs, opened the hall-door, and, heedless of the elements, flew along the winding avenue bordered by stately trees until she reached the entrance gates, once imposing and massive but now sadly dilapidated. Here she ensconced herself behind a clump of tress which stood like sentinels, and securely hidden waited the expected arrival to make her mischievous onslaught. ' Well played, madcap,' said a fresh young voice, and Rex Mervyn stood tor a moment between the headless stone lions which guarded the entrance to Mervyn Court, and replied with a handful of snow to the damp missile* which, sped by Gladys' rosy lingers, had struck him in the ear. ' You'll pay for that,' young lady, the first time I get a chance.' Gladys suddenly flung the second snowball, which she had ready to follow up the attack, carelessly on the ground, and bounding lightly to the young man's side, slipped her hand through his arm. ' Rex, what is the matter with you ! You look so sad. I know there is s-omethi g wrong by your face ; tell me, what is it i" ' Yes, my darling, you are right. Since yesterday 1 have been thinking very seriously over eveiything and have come to a final decision. 1 have no secrets from you, and you shall know what it is.' Gladys' small hand pressed the young man's arm more closely, and for some moments both walked on in silence, broken at last by Rex. ' Three morths ago a young man I met in Dublin told me a story which, improbable as it may sound, revived all my hopes. Ho told me he had received news from a tnend in America, which, he thought, would pro\e beyond doult Reginald Monyn's deatli 1 followed up the matter eageily and gladly, as you can imagine, a id I found this report was as groundlss.-, a^, jill the others, wiiich hive made fools ot us. 1 swore to my-elf that if this last search filled I would give up all hope, and start on j-ome new career, and ho Gladys, darling, I am to Australia.' 4 Hex ! you are going to leave me. ' and withdrawing her hand the young girl stopped and looked at her companion in blank despair. It the young man had declared he was going to take his life she could not have been more shocked. ' Gladys, do not make my lite, harder than it is. See, my darling, it Will be good fur both oi us for me. to <xo. We can never marry on the uiiseiable pay that 1 earn heie. In Australia, on the contrary, I shall very souu ea.ru enough to Iny the little cottage we so oiten talk about, .md ,>ou ihal] ha\e the pair of ponies with the flowing mams, too cheer up, my darling, it will all come right.' And R.;x drew the slight, trembling figure close to him. ' Or perhaps, if you ge.t rich, we couM cuiue back and live here,' 8 lid Gladys, tor the m uni nt beguile 1 lroui her sadness at the thought of the parting from her lover. ' The dear old pla-;e ! How gla.il I would be if I were able to restore it to some of its old splendour, but—that can never be,' and Rex sighed heavily. ' Rex, the New Year will soon be here, and v c are so gloomy and despairing. It is very wiong ot us not to be more eheeriul during the last days of the dear old jear, it is a shame lor you, sir.' ' And yet, you little rogue, your eyes are lull of tears,' rejoined Rex, looking at her tenderly. Because I cannot bear the thought of your going away across the sea. Oh, Rex, Rex, it is drcidtul.' ' I shall not go for three mouths. Spring is the best time for such a journey.' 1 Three months ! That is a long way off yet ; perhaps something will happen before then to make, you change your mind.' ' You grey old walls,' exclaimed Rex, raising his hand towards the old house, ' why will you not reveal your secret ?' 'Be quiet, Rex darling,' said Gladys in a hushed, solemn voice, ' Reginald Mervyn was last seen in tl at room over there where the

ivy grows thickest round the window. H-s gho^t will appeu-to you if you talk like that.' ' 1 wish I could .see his ghost, then at Last I would be certain he hod quitted this mortal life.' ■What good would that do' The judges would not believe your gho.-t story any more than they believed the other reports and stories brought to them.' ' That's True, ouly too true,' sorrowfully acquiesced Rex. 'So now, clear, let us put a\v«.y our sa,d thoughts lor awhile and for Aunt Letry's sake try to be bright and cheerlul, for she deserve-, that much,' said Gladys with a determined effort, to hide her own reelings, which were very fur removed iioui the cheerfulness she was assuming. _ Tourists who eh meed upon the beautiful corner of Ireland in which Mervyn Court was situated were invariably stru k with admiration at the extent and beauty of the demesne, while, at the same time, lew could avoi 1 feeling-s of regrU at the sight of the ruin and decay everywhere rampant. Those strangers who happened to secure the services of Pat Donahoe, the champion j.irvey of the village, were fortunate indeed, l'at was a living chronicle of all the stories and legends of the neighbourhood, and h<; was always in his element when anyone questioned him as to the history ot Mervyn Court and the reason of the neglect and desolation which hung like a pall over the beautiful spot. ' Yes, indeed, yer honour,' he would say, ' it's a dreary-looking place now, but when I was a young fellow— that's clo c on forty years ago — there wasn't a finer nor better kept pla-.e in the county. Some of the ould stock still live in the house up there, but they haven't as many pence now as they once had guineas. Shure an' it's some curse must have come upon them, an' little they desarved it. for they were always the rale good sort.' And Pat would shake his head mournfully and be silent, until adjured by his listener*, whose curiosity he had thus judiciously aroused, to give them the history of Mervyn Court. Then he would launch out and detail the sad fetory : ' Thirty years ago,' yer honour, there was grand doin's in the ould house, that's so lone and desolate looking now. The master, Sir Reginald, was only 2."j years of age, an' hadn't long come into his property. He was a fine, handsome jintleman — all the Mervyns are handsome — but had a terrible temper of his own, if anything went again him he would fly out like a madman ; still, he was raal kindhearted, an' every wan loved him, an" all the young ladies were dyin' about him, but sorra a wan would he look at save Lady Geraldine Mowbray. An', faix, he had good taste. ' Eh, yer honour, but she was a rale beauty. Molly Brady, the houseiteeper up at the house, once showed me her picter hangin' in wan of the rooms, an' troth she'd turn any man's head. Well, it was aisy to see that Sir Reginald was half crazy about her, an' bedad, she was no betther about him. Well, sir, it was all settled, an' the weddin' was to come off in no time, but nothin' would do the young Masther but that Lady Geraldine an' her father an' mother should come an' stay at the Coort for a week. Such doin's as was then, nothiu' but divarsion from moriiin' until night. ' Well, yer honour, there was to be a grand ball wan evenin', an' Sir Reginald went to his room in the hoight of good speerits to dress for the dancaig, but from that goo 1 hour to thi-, an' that's thirty years ago come Christmas, not a livin' sowl seen nor heard anything of Sir Reginald. High an' low, far an' near, acrass the say.-, in rurrin' parts, they sarched. but never got tale iu.r tidin's of him. Some of the people round her.;, the ould wans, firrimly believe the good people took him away, but ay' coor-e, that's rale nonsense, but the Lord only knows what became ot mi- Ke_inald. •Poor Lady Geraldine was like a mad worn in at first, she wouldn't believe them he was gone, an" for years an' years she was always expectin' him to come ba^k, but, at last, theciayther gave up hope, 'lii' pined away. The poor lady's dead tLe.e ten year now. There was great commotion all over the counthry. No one was sartin whether Sir Reginald was livin' or dead, so nobody could get the property. His uncle, Mister Maurice, it was him as should have got the place, came to live at the Coort, but not a penny did he get of the rents— they wouldn't even give him as much as would keep the place in order. Misttr Maurice dud, and left a son— Masther Rex— as fine a young fellow as you'd meet with in a day's journey. With God's help sooner or later, he'll come in for his own, but he must find it very hard to want a five-pound note where there's thousands in the bank belo ip in' to him. • Mihtor Rex's aunt, Miss Laetitia Mervyn, lives up in the house beyaut with two servants where I remember twinty. She has a lovely young lady livin' wid her, Mi->s Gladys Luttrell. They say as how she's a cousin of poor Lady Geraldine's and troth she's the born image of her. Anyhow, Miss Laelitia has a little money of her own, and when poor Miss Gladys' father and mother died she adopted her. Mister Rex has some appointment in Dublin, but he veiy often comes down here. They do say as how he's in love with Miss Gladys, but he has no manes of keepin' a wife ; and, faix, people can't live on lov<\ ' Well, yer honour, the quarest thing about it is there's an ould mad woman, Rachel Bray, livm' here in the village, and many think if she had her sinses and could spake she'd be able to tell somethin' about Sir Reginald. She was poor Lady Geraldine's maid, and was with her at the Coort when all the throuble happened. She was a rale good lookin' then, but very proud and resarved in herself, and niver made free with the other sarvints. The mornin" that the young masther was niissin', they found Rachel Bray — that's her name, sir— lyin' on the flu re in a dead famt, and whin they brought her to, her sinses was clane gone. 'Twas said as how she had taken a letther to Sir Reginald's room the night before, an' every wan thinks she saw somethin' terrible as set her crazy, but the Lord knowns what happened. The worst oi 1 it all is if she had her sinses she, maybe, could help our young master to get his right*. Poor Rachel is very quiet, niver a bit o' harrem in her, an' so they let her stay on about the place, an' Miss Letty is rale g od to her, sir ; the Mervyns was always good to the poor and mibforthunit. And now

yer honour, that's the history of Mervyn Coort. an' no wan livin' knows more about it nor I towld ye.' ■*= * •< It was the day before Xew Year's Eve. h\ an old disused room on the highest storey of Mervyn Court Gladys was busily engaged rummaging among the contents of the dusty, cobwcb-covorcd boxes and chests which hod lain there for many a* lon» year. The object of her search was a piece of fur with which to trim a warm crimson jacket for rauhael Bray, the half-witted woman of whom Pat Donohoe had spoken. The winter was a severe one, and the poor creature suffered a good deal from the cold, so Gladys was preparing the jacket as a New Yenr's gift, which «]■,,» know would ho the more acceptable, as it gratified Rachael's childish love of brieht colours. The search did not seem successful, for after repeated divintrs into the motley heap which was piled on the floor. Gladys exclaimed in an impatient, vexed true of voice : ' I have rummaged these old boxes a thousand times and I might as well have spared myself the trouble. This bit of beaver must do. although I'm sure it is all moth-eaten. I thought I could find an old chinchilla muff of Aunt Letty's, but it seems to have vanished. Oh, you old thing, I'd prive anything to know what you contain ; if I only had the key I would soon find out.' This last remark was addressed to an old brass-bound chest which stood in the corner, and was the only one undisturbed by Gladys in her search. As long as the young girl remembered, and she was but four years old when brought to the Court, that old chest had been standing in the same corner. Many a time in the days of her merry childhood, when running about the silent, lonely house, she made her way to the lumberroom, and jumping upon the old chest kicked her little heels merrily against its solid sides. Even in those days its contents were the object of much speculation and curiosity on the part of Gladys, and as she grew older her desire to solve the mystery grew stronger. Her youthful imagination pictured the old chest as a fairy storehouse of all sorts of wonderful things, if she could only open it. Long years before Gladys was born that old trunk was locked and placed in the corner where it stood, with strict orders from Miss Letty that no one was ever to disturb it. The old lady kept the key in some unknown place, and no one, not even Gladys, her spoiled pet and darling, had ever got the least hint as to the contents of the mysterious chest. « Listen, my young people,' said Aunt Letty, as she sat, that evening, round the fire with Gladys and Rex. 'To-morrow will be New Year's Eve, and this year we have made no preparation for marking the passing away of the last hours of the old year. lam very sorry, for never since these walls were built has this happened before, except, indeed, on one occasion.' The old lady paused and sighed deeply. 1 It is true, dear children, that you have never known anything here but the simplest pleasures, but still, you know, we always made some change from the daily round at Christmas and the New Year. This year, I need not tell you, has pressed heavily upon us ; we cannot afford any outlay, and without money nothing can be done in the way of merry-making. The thought that Christmas Day passed away like any other day saddened me very much, and so I have made up my mind that our Gladys, at least, shall have a little pleasure, and to-morrow evening she shall open the old trunk here in this room.' If Miss Mervyn had announced that the heavens would fall Gladys and Rex could not have looked more astonished. But the girl's astonishment soon changed to wild delight. She kissed and hugged the old lady in the exuberance of her gratitude, thereby considerably deranging her cap. ' llow sweet of ycu, Aunt Letty ' Oh, how sweet of you ! That is really the only pleasure I wished for ; there could be nothing in the world nicer. Only think. Rex,' bho added, turning to him, ' we may open the old chest and sec what it has held afl these years. I shall scarcely sleep a wink to-night. Rox, why don't you thank Aunt Letty ? You are just as curious as lam about the old chest, but you wouldn't admit it for the world.' ' Oh, children, that will do,' cried Aunt Laetitia nervously. • I am quite satisfied with your thanks ; it is very good of you, dears, to be so pleased with the trifling pleasure a poor old woman can give ycr.' New Year's Eve dawned cold and clear. A thick mantle of snow covered the earth, and pendant icicles adorned every branch. The sitting-room, which the inmates of Mervyn Court had redeemed from the general desolation, looked cosy and bright, not alone in the glow of the ruddy firelight, but in the still brighter glow reflected from the youn^ and happy faces gathered there. Gladys, brimming over with expectant delight, was radiant. 'Look, Rox,' sho cried, ' look how the li relight is shining this evening on Lady Geraldine's portrait. Ono would think she was smiling at us. How sweet and lovely she must have been !' ' Very lovely,' replied Rox. ' and you arc very like her.' 'You dreadful hypocrite, do you think that I believe a word ' A clattering noise interrupted Gladys. ' The cheat, the chest.' she cried, flying across the room to open the door. Miss Mervyn came in. followed by two men carrying the chest, at last removed from its long abiding place. ' Here, here, on the hearth,' said Gladys, and the young men laid down their burthen, received each a half-crown as a New Year's gift, and departed highly pleased. ' Now, my Gladys,' said Aunt Letty, • as I know your patience and curiosity are on the rack I shall let you open the old chest,' and she handed the girl the key. Glady'B fingers were trembling so that it was only after some time and with Rex's help that nhe was able to turn the key in the lock,

Slowly she raised the lid and a faint perfume floated upwards. C>ladys removed some sheets of tissue paper and there lay revealed a dress of pale blue brocade, dulled and faded, the bodice trimmed with costly pearl embroidery and rare old lace, a pearl necklace, a chaplet of pearls for the hair, an ivory fan exquisitely painted— all, all dimmed, yellowed with ape. l)earl silence fell on the little group as they stood round these faded relics of the past. At last Gladys raised her eyes to Lady Geraldines picture, and Miss Mervyn, interpreting the glance, answered it. h • Yes, child, that is the dress Lady Geraldine wore when her portrait was painted. The last time I saw her in it was that dreadful night 30 years nyo,' and Auut Letty's eyes filled with tears and she shuddered at the remembrance of the long-past horror • when poor Geraldine, half dazed with ffr ief, went away from us 1 packed this dress, which she wore on that unlucky ni^ht with some old letters and a diary in which the poor girl had recorded her boundless love for him who was pone, into this old trunk, and as I coul I not bear the idea of strangers' hands ever touching these things, I had the chest put away in the corner of the lumber-room and it has not been opened since. To-day I have draped these poor relics of the past into the light again ; but we here all love and honour her memory. My poor Geraldine, my lovely bird yours was a sad f.ite." Carried away by these memories so vividly recalled, the old lady fell into a reverie, and seemed quite oblivious of those around her. Putting her finger to her lip to enjoin silence on Rex, Gladys slipped quietly out of the room. Suddenly Miss Mervyn started and cried out half in wonder, half in fear. There beneath the portrait stood Lady Geraldine herself. Could the dead come back ? For a moment Miss Letfcy thought she was dreaming, until Gladys with a merry laugh dispelled the illusion. ' Do you think I am a ghost, Auntie ?' It was indeed Gadys, who in her ill-fated kins-woman'g dress so marvellously resembled her as to startle not only Miss Mervyn but also Rex. ' Child, child 1 you are really — ' Aunt Letty was interrupted by another and still stranger apparition at the door. It was that of a woman whose tall form was slightly bent and wasted to a shadow. ' Why, Rachel, how is it you have come to see us this evening ? you generally avoid the house, 1 said Miss Mervyn in a kind voice. 'As I was passing I looked through the window and saw that my Lady Geraldine is here, and I came in to ask her if she wanted me to-night,' and the poor wasted figure dropped a low curtsey to G ladys. ' How strange ! I think this is the first time since she lost her reason that Rachel has uttered her mistress's name. The sight of Gladys in that dress must have stirred up her memory.' ' Your ladyship will not walk on the terrace to-night with Sir Reginald,' said the mad-woman. ' For Heaven's sake do not disturb her train of thoughtt Perhaps we may glean something, if not all, from her, for if there is one on earth who can reveal the truth it is this woman, says Miss Mervyn, trembling with excitement. ' Where is Sir Reginald V asked Rex suddenly, in a stern voice. The old woman turned on him angrily. ' Who are you that want to tear my secret from me V ' I will do you no harm,' rejoined Rex soothingly ; ' you can tell me everything.' ' But not before her,' and Rachel's voice sank to a whisper as she pointed to Gladys. In obedience to a sign from Aunt Letty, Gladys, pale and trembling, slipped behind a portiere, whence she could, unseen, hear all that passed. ' Where is Sir Reginald '' repeated Rex, who was so overcome as to be obliged to loan against an armchair. 'At the bottom of the old well under the sun dial. I saw him fall in. and then all was dark before me— and before him too. Ha, ha The listeners' hearts throbbed wildly, and for a moment or two I Rex felt unnerved. With a great effort he regained composure, and fixing a stern gaze on Rachel addressed her again. ' Speak on. How did he fall in ?" 'It was night. Outside the moon hid herself in dark clouds and wouldn't look at the earth. My Lady had written a note to Sir Reginald telling liim she loved him and would marry him. She trusted me with all her secrets, and what she didn't tell me I found out by reading her letters. My Lady had another lover at Mervyn Court who wanted to marry her too, but she hated him. That night, it was Now Year's Eve, she gave me two letters, one for the man she loved and the other a scornful refusal to the man who pursued her with his love. That day I was raginjr with Sir Reginald because he had abused the Jews — my people. To punish him, I put the note with my Lady's bitter words in the envelope addressed to him and kept back her loving words. ' When Sir Reginald read the letter he grew pale as death and clenched his hands, and then, without a word, he dashed down the small secret staircase that led from his room to the garden. I called to him but he did not mind me, but ran blindly down towards the lake. I was frightened at what I had done, and I followed him, but suddenly he disappeared before my eyes. That minute I knew what had happened, but my tongue was paralysed with terror. He had gone headlong into the old well, that dreadful well, which is so deep and black that people say the devil comes up through it when he comes on earth, and there he lies at the bottom of it. What a funny grave for a lord of Mervyn, isn't it." And the mad woman burst into a wild fit of laughter and then fell unconscious on the floor. That was a sleepless night for the inmates of Mervyn Court. Rachel's story had thrilled her libteners and set their hearts wildly

beating 1 . What a bright future opened before them if her statement were true ! Rex would obtain his rights, Gladys' hopes and wishes would be realised, and Aunt Letty's cares weie all at an end.

The next day an exploration of the old well, which was dry, put the truth of Rachael's sad story beyond all question. In it were found the remains of a human skeleton, together with the watch and signet-ring of the unhappy Batonet, thus di-pelling the mystery which had so long enshrouded his fate. The remains ot the long-lost Sir Reginald were laid to rest with his ancestors in the old churchyard, and his young kinsmen entered upon his inheritance.

A month later there was great rejoicing at Mcrvyn Court at the wedding of young Master Rex, as the people still fondly called him, with Gladys Luttrell.

'Just think, Rex,' said Lady Mervyn. ' that we have to thank the old chest for all our good luck. I always behevcel that it contained a charm, and you see I was right.'