CHRISTMAS STORY

New Zealand Tablet, 22 December 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHRISTMAS STORY

CHRISTMAS EVE HYMN

There comes a Galley laden A heavenly Freight on board —■ It bears God's Son, the Saviour, The great Undying Word. And proudly floats that Galley From troubled coast to coast; Its sail is Love and Mercy, Its mast the Holy Ghost. Now earth hath caught the anchor, The Ship hath touched the strand, God's Word in fleshly garment, The Son steps out on land. Thou Bethlehem, the lowly, Receiv'st Him in thy stall, Thou giv'st Him rest and shelter, Who comes to save us all. — Sacred Heart Review.

Übe (Sbost of tbe IReb IRoom

My name is Brindley, a revenue officer in the service of his Imperial Majesty, George 111. To begin, I desire to make it plain that I am not an imaginative person by any means. My forbears came over with Cromwell, and were honest, industrious folk, Godfearing and practical, who prospered and increased despite the opposition and the jeers of your natives who still refer to us contemptuously as 'Cromwell's spawn.' No matter; ' a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' Hume Hall commands a fine view of Lower Lough Erne. There is no poetry in me, else I might be tempted to launch out into a description of the scene as it presents itself to the eye viewed from the haunted red room where I write this. The narrative will be the shorter in consequence. When serving in the adjacent town of Inniscillen, a comfortable enough place, I was informed one afternoon that the Governor, Sir "William Cole, desired conversation with me, and lat once repaired to his quarters. As soon as I was seated, he turned from his papers and said : ' Brindley, I think you told me some time since that you had no belief in ghosts?' I bowed to signify assent, all the time wondering what he meant. ' That is fortunate,' he continued, ' for we are in need of a man who has a great deal of courage and but little superstition.' He paused, rose from his desk, and standing with his back to the fire, his hands behind his back and his legs outspread asked: 'Do you happen to know Hume | Hall?' ' I cannot say that it is more than a name to me. It is somewhere in the vicinity, if I mistake not.' " Four miles from here, precisely, on the banks of the Lower Erne. A fine old building, Brindley, but reputed to be, haunted. It is only fair that you should know this much in advance. The place commands an excellent view of the lake, and owing to informations which reached us of smuggling in wines and silks —chiefly winesby the | port of Ballyshanney, we sent a special man to watch and I report. No other place so suited our purpose as this, ; and as it had the reputation of being haunted by a dead | Hume, we had no difficulty in getting a short lease of it.' . ' I need not tell you, Brindley, that I regarded the ghost idea as a mere superstition —an old story, llooney, the caretaker, and his wife lived therea simple, stupid | old fellow, Rooney, not much good, not much evil. They swear to the ghost, of course, and have flatly refused to i live in the Hall under any circumstances, taking up their abode in the coachhouse, which is situated at the far end ] of the enclosure, some two hundred yards off. ' Now, Russell, the first man we sent there got on very | well for the first night. He occupied the apartment in | front, thus securing a good view of the lake. Like yourself, In professed to no belief in spirits. On the second j night, just after he had retired to rest, he heard something ! resembling the clank of an iron chain being " dragged j around. Dressing as quickly as he could, he went out. The clatter of the chain was quite distinct, as if it were closo beside him, and going towards the lake, and he followed it. Then it ceased, and although he looked everywhere he could see no sign of it. He returned to the Hail, much frightened. This went on for the second night, and

Russell grew nervous, and came back here the next morning and told me that he had seen a ghost, indeed. There was no good in reasoning with him. ' I was only, a few yards away from it, and in front of me there was only the lake,' he said, ' but it disappeared as if the earth had opened for it.' ' I packed him off to headquarters, at Armagh. Since then, reports have reached me of further smuggling on the Erne. It is important that Hume Hall be occupied; there is no other vantage point suitable for us. Besides, I am quite convinced that the place is not haunted, and the noise of the chain was either a delusion on Russell's part, or a ruse of the smugglers to frighten him off. He was armed, and could have shot them there is, therefore, the less excuse for his cowardice.' I have tried to summarise Sir William Cole's message as nearly as possible in his own words. When he had explained the work required of me, he told me I could have as many men as I desired to assist or keep me company. I could not, however, see that a number of men would be likely to serve our purpose much, in which view Sir William concurred. A cold biting wind was in the air the evening I set out for Hume Hall. As I proceeded on my way snow began to fall, a thin, dry drizzle, which did not cover the ground, but drifted into hollows and ditches. It was the Christmas week, when I should have been off on my holidays had not the Governor of Inniscillen been so bent on discovering whom were the persons who so stoutly refused to pay toll

to our liege lord, George 111. One of Sir William's yeomen accompanied me, a tall, burly fellow called Dunbar. We were well armed. I shall not soon forget the look that came into Rooney's face when I told him my errand. ' God protect us from all harm!' he ejaculated. A little dark man of about fiftyfive, clean-shaven, with small, dark eyes, his picture might have been appropriately called Superstition ; he certainly looked it. ' You are in fear of something,' I began questioningly. ' It's no soncy thing,' he said with a shake of his head; 'and Sir William is so unbelieving!' 'Never mind,' I put in, making light of the matter; 'Dunbar and I shall make ourselves as comfortable as possible, and if this strange ghost, of which we have heard so much, comes a-walking, never fear, we shall give it a good account of ourselves.' I pointed to the two pieces which we carried by way of convincing Rooney of our earnestness, and asked him to show us to the apartments we were to occupy. The Hall is a large building, with a courtyard and two towers, and is in a tolerable state of repair, considering that it has been vacant for some years. Sir William had despatched a considerable quantity of furniture at the time Russell came there, so we had no difficulty in making ourselves comfortable. I. decided to occupy the large room in front on the first storey called the red room. Opening off it at the back was a smaller apartment, in which Dunbar fixed a bed. In the red room was a four-

poster bed, massive in appearance, of an old pattern, with a screen. Rooney and his wife lighted the fires and prepared a meal, relating as they did so the story of how in years gone by a Hume had been brutally done to death here, his blood speckling the back wall. Rooney thereupon pointed to some marks on the plaster and said : ; I wouldn’t sleep in this room one night for all the money in the King’s mint.’ He looked about him apprehensively. I laughed, for the wine which Sir William had sent was excellent. The fire of wood crackled cheerfully in the open fireplace the while the wind howled in the fir trees and copper beeches outside. Now, I had no mind for making a fool of myself, as Russell had done, since the successful accomplishment of the task in hand meant the goodwill of Sir William, who is no small influence to one in the Revenue service. I therefore decided to be on my keeping, to regard every ghostly manifestation, should such assert itself, as a natural embodiment, and treat it accordingly. As I have already remarked, a belief in ghosts forms no part of my creed. I dismissed Rooney, who, by the way, seemed mighty pleased to be gone, notwithstanding that it was not nine o’clock. Then Dunbar and I went out to see how the land lay. The Hall and the offices formed a square, connected by a wall about ten feet in height, and the only entrance to which was by an iron gate at the side distant from the house and close beside which the Rooneys had their apartments. It was clear, therefore, that to gain admis-

sum one had either to climb the wall or enter by the gate. There was a lawn in front sloping down in a gentle declivity to the edge of the lake. On either side of the lawn, which was no wider than the Hall, were several beech and fir trees, planted there in all probability many years prior to the erection of the present building. The hall door was locked and barred, the under windows were fastened by nails and shuttered and secured inside. I made certain of these matters before retiring to rest. I lay awake for some time listening to the wind outside, and the swish of the waves as they broke on the shingly shore. _ I could not have been long asleep when I became conscious of a noise close beside me. I sat up in bed; someone was in the room. ‘ Do you hear it ?’ a voice asked in alarm, and in the grey light I recpgnised Dunbar in his trousers. You fool!’ I began angrily; what did you hear?’ . Before he could answer the sound reached myselfthe jangling of a chain. It came from the lawn in front, but, looking out of the window, I could observe nothing. ’ Lome, I began, let us go outside! It is a dog, I flunk, which someone has let loose to frighten folk.’ We dressed hurriedly, and, taking our flint-pieces, crept cautiously down-stairs and out into the night. The rattle of the chain grew more distinct as we leached the lawn, and we stood and gazed around. The noise came from our left, towards which we ran, peering amid the few leafless trees, and then, to our amazement, the sounds seemed to come from the right. We crossed

the lawn hurriedly in that direction, ready to shoot down any living thing which confronted us, but there was nothing to be seen. I looked at Dunbar, who was shivering with fear. I confess I was a trifle nervous myself. To hear a noise close beside you, to follow it hither and thither, is not a little disconcerting. We were not afraid of ghosts, but this invisible mysterious body that dragged a chain about in the midnight hour, was enough to startle anyone. . . We went towards Rooney's apartments, for a suspicion had entered my mind that perhaps he had some hand in the business. Not that I was certain it could be anything terrible, but, to make sure. All of us are greater cowards in peril than we can imagine in our serene moments. We knocked upon Rooney's door, and in a moment a head was thrust out of the window, and in tones that betokened fear the caretaker asked: ' Who's there ? —the Lord protect us, what is wrong now?' ' It's merely a noise we heard,' I proceeded to explain as calmly as 1 could. 'May Goodness save you,' Rooney said, when 1 had finished, ' for it's no natural thing, for sure.' We went back to the room as fast as we could, lighted the candles, and put on another fire of wood. We were shivering as much from the shock as from the cold. Dunbar, with a sigh, sank into a chair, adding—' It is terrible! Nothing further transpired that night, and as soon as I rose next morning I made every possible investigation

to discover the cause of the noise. There was no dog about the place, and although I searched the grounds in the hope of discovering a chain, I could find none. I received a message from Sir William Cole asking how I had spent the night, and inquiring whether, like Russell, I had any visitor from the Otherwhere, and, if so, to tell him what it was like. In this bantering fashion Sir William wrote. The letter left me in a very uneasy frame of mind, and I found myself wishing that I had refused noint blank to have anything +o do with the business. For it was certain that I could never hone to persuade the Governor of Iniiiscillen that I was o+her than a fool and a coward, and that I had experienced nothing more substantial than a nhantasy of my own imagination. To go back and conf"«s no+, I had ?e"n a ghost, therefore, would be to excite Sir William's ridicule and displeasure. Evening drew on. fid bv +he time it "'as dark I had ouite made up my mind that T had been deceiving myself the night previous. I sow that the doors and windows were fastened, and tiling as secure as possible against night prowlers. I decided noon altering our previous plans. Dunbar would remain a+. the window of my room, which looked out upon the lawn, and if anything should nass from one side of the clearing to the other, he would shoot it down. In this way nobody should get the better of us. We sat up late sampling Sir William's wine and speculating unon whom our ghost would prove to be. It was almost midnight when we turned in.

I must have been asleep for an hour, when I heard a distinct click, as of a door opening, and I sat up in bed. I shall never forget the sight which met my gaze. A light shone in at the window, and revealed the presence of a tall figure at the bottom of my bed. I was distinctly awake, and I recollected that I had fastened the door and window before retiring. _ Yet there it stood, a strange, weird object in white, like nothing I know of save the skeleton of a tall man, and working its arms up and down, and anon bending over my bed, as if to peer into ray face. I seized my breechloader, which stood primed at hand, and fired a full charge into the figure. Hearing the noise, Dunbar came running from his room into mine. And as he stood in the doorway between I heard him utter an exclamation of fear and surprise. By this time I was out upon the floor. The light at the window went out suddenly, and at the same moment the ghostly figure in white faded away into air. Now, anybody reading this narrative would naturally conclude that I had been asleep and had had a dream, and that, by a singular coincidence, Dunbar had had a similar dream. That, perhaps, would be an explanation, but it will not serve in this instance, for I am as sure as I can be of anything that I was wide awake, and Dunbar is equally positive that the sound of the shot awoke him, and that he came into my room at once. Besides, the figure which he saw at the end of the bed corresponds in every particular with that which I had seen. Then, remember that we were out of bed and standing upon the floor for at least two minutes.

Dunbar caught me by the arm. ‘lt went through the floor,’ he said in great alarm. I lighted the candles and searched the room. The door was still locked and bolted as I had left it; the window catch was in position. I carefully examined the floor as if to find some confirmation of poor Dunbar’s idea, but there was neither a trap-door nor any displaced board. ‘ It’s the ghost of the dead Hume,’ Dunbar put in again, ‘ and I’m not going to stay longer than the break of day, even if they courtmartial and shoot me.’ I gave him some wine, and then, we dressed. I could not sleep again in the room until I had found some explanation of the vision. I recalled the case of Russell sent away in disgrace, and I knew that that would probably be my own fate, if, indeed, I did not first go mad. Dunbar and I sat by the fire till daylight. We hardly exchanged a word, for I was thinking. I have already remarked that I am not superstitious, and my first thought was to find some physical explanation of our eerie visitants. _ For one thing, the light which shone in through the window' was a puzzle to me. Then, it Avas just at the moment when the light was withdrawn that the figure disappeared. It certainly was no mere picture, for I distinctly saw' the arms move, and I am certain that w'here the shot penetrated I saw' what appeared to be a hole right through the form. Supposing that there w r as, indeed, something of bodily substance in the room at the time, it must be there still, since there was no way of escape except by the chimney]

and this I found to be so narrow that even a child's body could not pass through. First I directed my attention to the bed, which was of the old-fashioned pattern. The canopy was thickly covered with dust, and this I examined standing upon a chair, but could not observe any mark. I turned over the mattress, then examined the furniture, probed the walls in the hope of discovering a secret door somewhere, but with no result. For the moment I seemed to be puzzled, and I stood at the window lost in thought for a while. The dawn was showing grey in the sky. All at once I turned to Dunbar. ' 1 think I have hit upon the secret now.' He looked at me in a puzzled manner, as if he were half afraid that our experience had unhinged my mind. You have!' ho repeated. 'We must remove the bed,' I proceeded. 'I wonder why it did not occur to us before.' ' But we have examined the floor under the bed,' he argued. ' The floor, yes, but as to the bed, perhaps not. It did not strike me until this minute that the feet or pillars might contain some explanation of our ghost.' Dunbar and I, without further ado, pulled the bed from its position. Just as I had anticipated, one leg was hollow, and in this aperture lay an iron rod, which" projecting through the floor, served* as a lever for some purpose the exact nature of which I was not long in finding out. Coming down to the kitchen, I observed a number of iron hooks fastened in the ceiling, such as would be utilised for hanging up bacon. At first glance it would appear as if there were no hole through the ceiling into the room above, but upon a closer view I found one deftly concealed by an iron hook. A rod projected an inch or so, which I seized. Immediately I pulled, I heard Dun-

bar leave the room above and come down. He threw up his hands, exclaiming: 'lt's wonderful! Whatever you pulled down here caused the panel at the foot of the bed to open, and out sprang a wire frame with the picture of a skeleton on it!' Upon entering the red room I saw that the red panel of the bed concealed a wire contrivance, stretched upon which was a piece of canvas. When open the canvas revealed a crude drawing of a skeleton—eyes, head, and arms. Soon the lever below, being released, the wire sprang to its original position and the panel shut. It was a most artful scheme for playing the ghost, and so designed that perhaps not one in a hundred could have discovered it. L went outside and began to examine the trees, Dunbar wondering all the time what I was after. 1 should have thought of this before, for whoever had been endeavoring to frighten us by dragging the chain had concealed himself by climbing into the trees when we approached, coming down after we had passed. It is probable that two may have played the trick, each perched in a tree on either side of the lawn. The light which was projected into the red room had evidently been cast by a lantern held in the hands of a man sitting in a tree in line with the window. I saw distinct traces of a man's feet on the trunks, where the bark had been broken. ' I have made two discoveries,' I said, ' but the most important still remains.' ' Maybe you want to see if Rooney was the ghost?' ' I am sure he was not; but he may know a good deal, for all that. At present lam not inclined to approach him in the matter, for, assuming that he is in the plot, he will immediately give the others warning. I want to catch the smugglers red-handed.'

I despatched Dunbar to Inniscillen asking Sir William Cole for ten yeomen. I reckoned upon the ghost actors repeating their visit, and I was minded to be fully prepared for them. Meantime I began to think of how they had gained admission to the kitchen. At once I went below. There must be some passage, I reflected, leading from the kitchen outside, otherwise the midnight visitors had never gained entry to the house. 1 searched for some time among the piled-up mildewed furniture strewn about. 1 tapped the walls and the backs of the two presses for an opening. I was about to turn away when I bethought me of the floor. It was strewn over with bric-a-brac, and in one corner I saw a trace of the things having been moved recently. Pulling some sticks aside, I stood upon a wooden door — trap-door ! This door led into a passage or vault below, the use for which 1 could not understand, unless, indeed, it had belonged to the older Castle of the O’Cassidy’s which stood upon this site. Anyhow, I procured a lantern and descended. A passage sufficient to allow a man to walk upright loci out towards a thicket at the rear of the Hall, where a backwater of Lough Erne came. On and on I went for several hundred yards. I had no fear for my personal safety for 1 surmised, rightly, that there was nobody in the place. Suddenly I came to a turn, and the sunlight filtering from above revealed a number of wine casks.” I ran forward to note the Spanish inscriptions upon the casks and the number of them, and then made my way outside through u channel filled with water and overgrown with briars and stunted hazel. I walked back exultantly, nodding pleasantly to Rooney as I passed into the yard. He looked rather surprised, I fancied, to find me so gay and undaunted after my second night in the red room.

All day I planned in my mind how I should effect the capture of the smugglers. I should post three men amongst the bushes at the entrance to the cave, three more should lie concealed inside, the remainder taking up a position in the grounds to wait for a signal. There was to be no loophole of escape. I could imagine myself being promoted and praised by my superiors, for I had accomplished everything so far unaided. In the afternoon the men came from Inniscillen. I had them conveyed as quietly as possible into the Hall at a time when Rooney was at work elsewhere. In order to prepare ourselves in case of attack, I visited the cave shortly after dark, but to my consternation the place was empty, the .wine casks having disappeared. I called the men and instituted a search, only to discover traces of the barrels having been rolled into the lake. We launched two boats, but could find no sign of either casks or smugglers. The latter had been too clever for me, and having learned somehow of my discovery, they began the removal of the stuff as soon as darkness had fallen. Although I had placed a man on watch close by he saw nothing and heard nothing. ' Neither have I been able to assure myself of Rooney's bona fides in the matter: whether he be knave or fool I know not, and I am inclined, in the circumstances, to give him the benefit of the doubt. The disappearance of those casks has annoyed me a great deal, but my failure in this is more than counterbalanced by my good luck in other respects. For Sir William Cole and my superiors, alike, learned with keen pleasure of my success locating the haunt of the smugglers as well as my effective ' laying of the Hume ghost.'— Weekly Freeman.