The Haunted Room Part 18

"Oh no; a suit more interesting by far than any regarding field-boundaries or dye-works!" laughed Vibert. "Standish is an ill.u.s.tration of the proverb, 'None but the brave deserve the fair.' He has wooed and won the greatest belle in the West, a cousin of the president of the United States, a lady with a dowry of half a million of dollars!" Vibert glanced triumphantly at Bruce, and raising a gla.s.s of claret, pledged the health of the colonel's destined bride.

"I suppose that as the lady is in Was.h.i.+ngton, the colonel will not remain long in Wilts.h.i.+re," observed Mr. Trevor, who had no wish for his longer stay.

"That's the worst part of the business,--at least for me," replied Vibert, setting down the gla.s.s, which he had drained. "Standish leaves England almost directly. He has already secured his pa.s.sage in an American steamer, and has only now to get what he wants to take with him, amongst other things wedding-gifts for his bride. Standish is prodigiously liberal as well as enormously rich; so the fair lady will have her caskets of diamonds and 'ropes of pearl,' such as a d.u.c.h.ess might envy. The colonel asked me to-day what London jeweller I would recommend," continued the youth with a self-complacency which made his auditors smile, "and I told him that our family had dealt for twenty years with Messrs. Golding. I showed Standish the watch, studs, and signet-ring which I had bought at their shop, and he declared that he had never seen anything in the jewellery line more tasteful." It was evident that the boy's vanity had been tickled by his being consulted on such a matter by one who was the accepted suitor of a president's cousin. "But here am I talking about these sublunary affairs, when the eclipse will be beginning," cried Vibert. "It is quarter past seven now,"--he glanced at his watch as he spoke; "the night is splendid, not a breath of wind is stirring, while moonlight is silvering the snow. Who will come out with me and look at the queen of night under a shadow?

Emmie, you will certainly make one of the party; we all know your taste for the beautiful and sublime."

"My girl must be well wrapped up if she venture out in the snow,"

observed Mr. Trevor.

"We'll case her in fur like a squirrel!" cried Vibert. "Come, Emmie, or we shall be late."

Emmie rose from her seat at table; her life at Myst Court afforded so little variety, that the sight of an eclipse on a clear wintry night was not one that she would willingly miss.

"I suppose that you, Bruce, will go too," said his father. "For my part, I have seen so many lunar eclipses already, that I shall return to my desk. I want to finish the perusal of that paper sent by my lawyer which I was showing to you when the dinner-gong sounded."

"I should like to look over the paper with you," said Bruce. "I do not care to go out to-night."

The young man was feeling ill, though he did not complain.

"We'll leave them to their musty-fusty law; as for us, we prefer meditation and moonlight!" said Vibert playfully, as a few minutes afterwards he stood in the hall with Emmie, a.s.sisting his sister to mantle her slight form in her fur-lined mantilla. "I don't see why papa should bother himself with Bullen and his horrible dyes; the stream is clear enough where it flows through our woods. If Bullen had poisoned our coffee, or killed our trout, the matter might have required a lawyer. There now, just let me throw this pretty little scarlet shawl over your head, to be a complete defence against the night air! I declare that it makes you look like an opening rose-bud; I never saw a headdress more picturesque and becoming!"

Emmie smiled, and the brother and sister quitted the house together, sauntering down the steps which led from the door to the carriage-drive.

"We can see nothing here," observed Vibert; "we must go right round to the back of the house, and make our way over the lawn, till we get just beyond the group of yew-trees. There we shall have a clear view of the moon."

The first touch of shadow was dimming the round disc of the moon when the brother and sister stepped forth on the snow. But the orb was hidden from them, first by the house, and then by the trees around it, until they should reach the spot indicated by Vibert. The short quick walk was not a silent one; Vibert's thoughts were engrossed by a subject much more interesting to him than the moon.

"Emmie, I must be off to London to-morrow," said he.

"To London!" echoed Emmie in surprise. "What has put such a sudden flight into your mind?"

"I've many reasons for wis.h.i.+ng to go up to town. Patti is to sing to-morrow night at a grand concert; I am dying to hear her again, and Standish--kind fellow!--has given me a ticket of admittance. Then I've shopping and business to transact which I cannot possibly put off. I shall only stay for one night in London, and I will not go to a hotel.

Aunt Mary told me, you know, that she could always offer me a room in Grosvenor Square."

"Papa will not like the needless expense," began Emmie.

"Expense! how I hate the very word! But you have smoothed that matter for me, darling," said Vibert, pressing the arm that was locked in his own. "Papa shall not have a s.h.i.+lling to pay."

"But you would miss two days of study."

"No great loss, if one may judge of what they would have been by those that have gone before them," laughed Vibert. "I have not fatigued myself lately by any overwhelming amount of hard work."

"I fear not indeed," said his sister.

"But I'll work double when once I've had my full swing of pleasure,"

cried Vibert. "I can pa.s.s Bruce, at least in cla.s.sics, if I make an effort to do so. I know that I've been an idle fellow ever since we came to Myst Court; but when Standish goes I'll have nothing to do but to study, and I'll be bound I'll astonish you all with my learning."

"We have only been here for a month," observed Emmie; "it is too early for you to think of returning to London. You had better far put off going for a while."

"I told you that I could not put off!" cried Vibert impatiently. "My concert ticket will not keep, nor my business neither. You might as well tell yon moon to put off her eclipse!"

By this time the Trevors had reached the spot beyond the yew-trees, where nothing obstructed their view of the radiant orb. The dark shadow of earth was slowly cutting its sharply-defined outline on her disc, and each minute her clear light was becoming more and more sensibly obscured. There is something very solemn in the sight of that natural phenomenon which science can foretell, but which all created powers combined can neither prevent nor for one single moment delay. Even the light gossip of Vibert was silenced as he gazed. Nothing appeared to be moving on the snow-covered earth, or through the still air, save when a bat, with its peculiar flickering motion, darted between the moon and those who stood with upraised eyes, silently watching the deepening eclipse. Behind the trees rose Myst Court, showing, not its broad stately front, but the back offices, which were irregular in construction, and some of them built at a later date than other parts of the mansion. This side of the house possessed no beauty whatever by day, save what climbing ivy might give; but by moonlight its very irregularity gave to it a picturesque charm which was wanting to the more handsome but flatter front of the dwelling. Emmie turned round to glance at a part of her new home with which she was very imperfectly acquainted, as she had never entered the mansion at that eastern side.

She admired the effect of moonlight on the snow-covered ivy which mantled the walls--silver gleams which threw into strong contrast the deep black shadows which fell from projecting gable or overhanging roof.

Even the chimneys seemed transformed into twisted columns of ebony and silver.

"I never thought that Myst Court could look so romantic," said Emmie; "it was worth while coming out at night to see it as we see it now. But the air is chilly," she added, and, to draw her scarlet shawl closer over her braided hair, the maiden for a moment drew her arm from that of her brother.

"Ha! I had forgotten the telescope!" exclaimed Vibert; and with that want of thought for others which with him was a branch from the root of selfishness, the youth darted off to bring the gla.s.s, leaving his sister alone beside the shadowy yew-trees.

Emmie had not thought of fear so long as she had leaned on her brother's arm, so long as the lively Vibert was close beside her; but his departure--so sudden, that she had no time to cry "Do not go!" before he was gone--awoke her dormant terrors. To find herself in utter solitude, standing on the snowy lawn beside the gloomy yews, within bow-shot of a dwelling said to be haunted, whilst the very moon was suffering eclipse, was a position which might have tried stronger nerves than those of Emmie. All the horrible tales that she had heard on the night of her first arrival, the colonel's ghastly legends, Jael's stories of apparitions seen in that very house which now dimly loomed before the eyes of the maiden, the dark hints of dangers thrown out by Harper--all rushed at once on the mind of the timid girl. She made a few quick steps in pursuit of Vibert; but he had vanished from her sight round the corner of the house. Emmie was afraid to skirt half of the s.p.a.cious mansion alone, yet equally afraid to remain in such dreary solitude, to await her brother's return. A breeze stirred the branches of neighbouring trees; Emmie started at the sound of the rustle. The tall bushes in their shrouds of snow began to her excited imagination to a.s.sume the form of spectres; Emmie almost fancied that they began to move towards her! And now--it is not imagination--a dark figure is slowly moving along the gravel-path, whitened by snow, which divides the lawn on which Emmie is standing from that back part of Myst Court to which her gaze is directed! Emmie's first emotion is that of terror, her next is that of relief. She recognizes the sound of a short dry cough, which has nothing unearthly about it; and by the faint light of the half-eclipsed moon sees the outline of a familiar form most unlike the shape in which a spectre might be supposed to appear. Emmie feels no longer alone. There is Mrs. Jessel, coming at no unwonted hour, with basket on arm, doubtless to carry away what may remain of the evening's repast.

Never before had Emmie so welcomed the appearance of Mrs. Myer's late attendant, the obsequious, voluble Jael. Lightly the young-lady tripped over the soft white snow, whilst Mrs. Jessel was engaged in opening some back-door which lay in the deepest shadow behind a projecting part of the building. Emmie's step was noiseless as that of a fairy, and her form was unseen by Mrs. Jessel, whose back was turned towards her. Jael turned a key, pushed open a door, and entered the house, leaving the door ajar. Emmie followed the woman into the dwelling, guided by the sound of her creaking boots and her short dry cough. The pa.s.sage which the two had entered was dark, but Emmie naturally expected that some inner door would quickly be opened, and that she should find herself in the light and warmth of her own kitchen, for whose cheerful interior Mrs. Jessel of course was bound. How welcome to the ears of Emmie would be even the coa.r.s.e loud tones of Hannah! The young lady was somewhat surprised when the footsteps which she was following led up a narrow staircase, instead of turning towards what she supposed to be the direction of the kitchen. Still, as it was certain that Jael, after living for years in the mansion, must be acquainted with its every turn and winding, and as it was equally certain that she must be going to some lighted part, Miss Trevor went on, feeling her way by the iron railing up the narrow stone stair, listening to the creak of the boots and the occasional cough, which told that her guide was in front. Emmie felt a strange repugnance to address Mrs. Jessel in the darkness, therefore groped on her way in silence, expecting every moment to be ushered into the light. Here we leave her for the present, and go for a while to the study of Mr. Trevor, where he and his elder son are quietly engaged with the lawyer's papers.

CHAPTER XX.

AN ALARM.

"It strikes me that there are unusual sounds in this generally quiet house," observed Mr. Trevor, raising his head to listen, after he and Bruce had been for nearly half-an-hour employed in reading and making extracts.

"I have been noticing them too," said Bruce. "I suppose that Vibert is in one of his wild merry moods, and that--"

Ere he could finish his sentence, the door of the study was suddenly flung wide open, and Vibert rushed in, with anxiety painted on his face.

"Emmie--is she with you?" he breathlessly cried.

"Emmie!" repeated Mr. Trevor, rising in sudden alarm. Bruce dropped the paper which he had held in his hand, and sprang to his feet.

"Did she not go with you to watch the eclipse?" asked the father; "when did you miss her?--where did you leave her?" The questions were asked in a manner and tone that expressed anxiety.

"I left Emmie on the sward by the yew-trees," said Vibert, answering the last question first.

"Surely not alone?" interrupted his brother.

"I was back in three minutes, but she was gone. I called--loudly enough--but there was no answer! I rushed back to the house, and have since been hunting all over the place--upper rooms, lower rooms, kitchen, and all! The servants know nothing about Emmie, but are looking for her in every corner!"

"The grounds must be searched with torches without a moment's delay,"

cried the father, loudly ringing the bell of the study. Bruce hurried to the door with such anxious haste that he almost came into collision with--Emmie!

"Here she comes herself, our wandering fairy, to give an account of her doings!" he cried, drawing back to let Emmie pa.s.s him and enter the lighted apartment. "She has only been playing at hide-and-seek."

Bruce spoke gaily, but almost before the last word had left his lips his manner changed, for he looked on his sister, and saw at a glance that no mirthful frolic had caused her late disappearance. Had the poor heroine of the story of the oaken-chest contrived by some superhuman effort to burst her living tomb, even in such ghastly guise might she have appeared before her wondering friends.

Emmie had entered the study with rapid steps; she now threw herself into the arms of her father, and buried her face on his breast, as if seeking for protection and safety. The poor girl uttered no sound, but her bosom heaved convulsively, and her clinging hands trembled as if with ague.

Emmie's scarlet shawl had fallen back on her shoulders, and over it flowed her dishevelled hair. Emmie's att.i.tude was so expressive of terror, that she might have been deemed some fugitive who had barely escaped with life from some scene of slaughter.