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"No, sir; I was not up there. Hatch thought she saw it as she went into the room. It was in a corner, and wore its shroud: but when we got up there it was gone."
"When was all this?"
"Last night, sir. When you left, Miss Annabel took off her bonnet in the drawing-room and rang for tea, which I carried in. Presently Hatch ran in at the front door, and Miss Annabel told me to call her in.
'Has mamma had her tea, Hatch?' said my young lady. 'Yes, she has,'
returned Hatch; which was a downright falsehood, for she had not had any. But Hatch is master and missis too, as far as we servants go, and n.o.body dares contradict her. Perhaps she only said it to keep Mrs.
Brightman undisturbed, for she knows her ailments and her wants and ways better than Miss Annabel. So, sir, I went down, and Hatch went up, but not, it seems, into Mrs. Brightman's room, for she thought she was asleep. In two or three minutes, sir, the most frightful shrieks echoed through the house; those to-night were nothing half as bad.
Hatch was first in the chamber, Miss Annabel next, and we servants last. My mistress stood at the foot of the bed, which she must have left----"
"Was she dressed?" I interrupted.
"No, sir; she was in her night-gown, or a dressing-gown it might have been. She looked like--like--I don't hardly know what to say she looked like, Mr. Strange, but as one might suppose anybody would look who had seen a ghost. She was not a bit like herself. Her eyes were starting and her face was red with terror; almost all alight, as one may say; indeed, she looked mad. As to her precise words, sir, I can't tell you what they were, for when we gathered that it was master's ghost which she had seen, appearing in its shroud in the corner by the wardrobe, the women servants set up a cry and ran away. That stupid cook went into hysterics, and declared she wouldn't stop another night in the house."
"What was done with Mrs. Brightman?"
"Miss Annabel--she seemed terrified out of her senses, too, poor young lady--bade me hasten for Mr. Close; but Hatch put in her word and stopped me, and said the first thing to be done was to get those shrieking maids downstairs. Before I and John had well done it--and you'd never have forgot it, sir, had you seen 'em hanging on to our coat tails--Hatch followed us down, bringing her mistress's orders that Mr. Close was not to be fetched; and indeed, as Hatch remarked, of what use could a doctor be in a ghost affair? But this morning Miss Annabel sent for him."
"Mrs. Brightman must have had a dream, Perry."
"Well, sir, I don't know; it might have been; but she is not one given to dreams and fancies. And she must have had the same dream again now."
"Not unlikely. But there's no ghost, Perry; take my word for it."
"I hope it will be found so, sir," returned Perry, shaking his head as he retired; for he had done his work and had no further pretext for lingering.
CHAPTER IX.
SOMEONE ELSE SEEN.
Standing with my back to the fire in the drawing-room, waiting for Annabel's return, the tea growing cold on the table, I puzzled over what I had just heard, and could make nothing of it. That Mr.
Brightman's spirit should appear to his wife seemed to be utterly incomprehensible; was, of course, incredible. That many people believed in the reappearance of the dead, I well knew; but I had not yet made up my mind to become one of them.
It was inexplicable that a woman in this enlightened age, moving in Mrs. Brightman's station, could yield to so strange a delusion. But, allowing that she had done so, did this sufficiently explain Annabel's deep-seated grief? or the remark that her grief would end only with her life? or the hint that she could never be my wife? And why should she refuse to confide these facts to me? why, indeed, have prevented my going upstairs? I might have rea.s.sured Mrs. Brightman far more effectually than Hatch; who, by Perry's account, was one of the believers in the ghost theory. It was altogether past comprehension, and I was trying hard to arrive at a solution when Hatch came in, her idioms in full play.
"My young lady's complemens, sir, and will you excuse her coming down again to-night? she is not equal to seeing n.o.body. And she says truth, poor child," added Hatch, "for she's quite done over."
"How is your mistress now, Hatch?"
"Oh, she's better, she is. Her nerves have been shook, sir, of late, you know, through the shock of master's unexpected death, and in course she starts at shadders. I won't leave the room again, without the gas a-burning full on."
"What is this tale about Mr. Brightman?"
Hatch and her streamers swung round, and she closed the door before answering. "Miss Annabel never told you _that_; did she, sir?"
"No; but I have heard a word or two elsewhere. You fancy you saw a ghost?"
"Missis do."
"Oh, I thought you did also."
"I just believe it's a delusion of hers, Mr. Charles, and nothing more," returned Hatch confidently. "If master had been a bad sort of character, or had taken his own life, or anything of that, why, the likelihood is that he might have walked, dying sudden. But being what he was, a Christian gentleman that never missed church, and said his own prayers at home on his knees regular--which I see him a doing of once, when I went bolt into his dressing-room, not beknowing he was in it--why, it is not likely, sir, that he comes again. I don't say as much to them downstairs; better let them be frightened at his ghost than at--at--anybody else's. I wish it was master's ghost, and nothing worse," abruptly concluded Hatch.
"Nothing worse! Some of you would think that bad enough, were it possible for it to appear."
"Yes, sir, ghosts is bad enough, no doubt. But realities is worse."
So it was of no use waiting. I finished my cup of cold tea, and turned to go, telling Hatch that I would come again the following evening to see how things were progressing.
"Yes, do, Mr. Charles; you had better," a.s.sented Hatch, who had a habit, not arising from want of respect, but from her long and confidential services, and the plenitude of her attachment, of identifying herself with the family in the most unceremonious manner.
"Miss Annabel's life hasn't been a bed of roses since this ghost appeared, and I fear it is not likely to be, and if there's anybody that can say a word to comfort her, it must be you, sir; for in course I've not had my eyes quite blinded. Eyes is eyes, sir, and has their sight in 'em, and we can't always shut 'em, if we would."
Hatch was crossing the hall to open the door for me, and I had taken my great-coat from the stand, when Annabel flew down the stairs, her face white, her voice sharp with terror.
"Hatch! Hatch! mamma is frightened again!"
Hatch ran up, two stairs at a time, and I went after her. Mrs.
Brightman had followed Annabel, and now stood outside her chamber-door in her white dressing-gown, trembling violently. "He is watching me again," she panted: "he stands there in his grave-clothes!"
"Don't you come," cried Hatch, putting Annabel back unceremoniously.
"I shall get my missis round best alone; I'm not afraid of no ghostesses, not I. Give a look to her, sir," she added, pointing to Annabel, as she drew Mrs. Brightman into her chamber, and fastened the door.
Annabel, her hands clasped on her chest, shook as she stood. I put my arm round her waist and took her down to the drawing-room. I closed the door, and Annabel sat down on the sofa near the fire.
"My darling, how can I comfort you?"
A burst of grief prevented her from replying--grief that I had rarely witnessed. I let it spend itself; you can do nothing else with emotion so violent: and when it was over I sat down beside her.
"Annabel, you might have confided this to me at first. It can be nothing but a temporary delusion of Mrs. Brightman's, arising from a relaxed state of the nervous system. Imaginary spectral appearances----"
"Who told you about that?" she interrupted, in agitation. "How came you to hear it?"
"My dear, I heard it from Perry. But he did not break faith in speaking of it, for he thought you had already told me. There can be no reason why I should not know it; but I am sorry that it has penetrated to the servants."
Poor Annabel laid her head on the arm of the sofa, and moaned.
"I do not like to leave you or Mrs. Brightman either, in this distress. Shall I remain in the house to-night? I can send a message to Leah----"
"Oh no, no," she hastily interrupted, as if the proposal had startled her. And then she continued slowly, hesitatingly, pausing between her words: "You do not--of course--believe that--that papa----"
"Of course I do not," was my hearty reply, relieving her from her embarra.s.sing question. "Nor you either, Annabel: although, as a child, you devoured every ghost-story you came near."
She made no confirmatory reply, only looked down, and kept silence. I gazed at her wonderingly.
"It terrified me so much last night," she whispered.