The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector Part 24

"Leave me to my resources," said he, "and it will go hard or I will so manage Charles as to disentangle him from the consequences of her influence over him. But the families, mother, must not be for the present permitted to visit again. On the contrary, it is better for our purposes that they should not see each other as formerly, nor resume their intimacy. If you suffer your pa.s.sions to overcome you, even in our own family, the consequence is that you prevent us both from playing our game as we ought, and as we shall do. Leave Charles to me; I shall make O'Connor of use, too; but above all things do not breathe a syllable to any one of them of my having been thrown off. I think, as it is, I have damped her ardor for him a little, and if she had not been obstinate and foolishly romantic, I would have extinguished it completely. As it is, I told her to leave the truth of what I mentioned to her respecting him, to time, and if she does I shall rest satisfied. Will you now be guided by me, my dear mother?"

"I will endeavor to do so," she replied; "but it will be a terrible restraint upon me, and I scarcely know how I shall be able to keep myself calm. I will try, however; the object is worth it. You know if she dies without issue the property reverts to you."

"Yes, mother, the object is worth much more than the paltry sacrifice I ask of you. Keep yourself quiet, then, and we will accomplish our purposes yet. I shall set instruments to work who will ripen our projects, and, I trust, ultimately accomplish them."

"Why, what instruments do you intend to use?"

"I know the girl's disposition and character well. I have learned much concerning her from Casey, who is often there as a suitor for the fair hand of her favorite maid. Casey, however, is a man in whom I can place no confidence; he is too much attached to the rest of the family, and does not at all relish me. I will make him an unconscious agent of mine, notwithstanding. In the meantime, let nothing appear in your manner that might induce them to suspect the present position of affairs between us.

They may come to know it soon enough, and then it will be our business to act with greater energy and decision."

And so it was arranged between this precious mother and son.

Woodward who was quick in the conception of his projects, had them all laid even then; and in order to work them out with due effect, he resolved to pay a visit to our friend, Sol Donnel, the herb doctor.

This hypocritical old villain was uncle to Caterine Collins, the fortune-teller, who had prognosticated to him such agreeable tiding's on the night of the bonfire. She, too, was to be made useful, and, so far as money could do it, faithful to his designs--diabolical as they were.

He accordingly went one night, about the hour mentioned by Donnel, to the cabin of that worthy man; and knocking gently at the door, was replied to in a peevish voice, like that of an individual who had been interrupted in the performance of some act of piety and devotion.

"Who is there?" said the voice inside.

"A friend," replied Woodward, in a low, cautious tone; "a friend, who wishes to speak to you."

"I can't spake to you to-night," replied Sol; "you're disturbin' me at my prayers."

"But I wish to speak to you on particular business."

"What business? Let me finish my padereens and go to bed like a vile sinner, as I am--G.o.d help me. Who are you?"

"I don't intend to tell you that just now, Solomon; do you wish me to shout it out to you, in order that the whole neighborhood may hear it? I have private business with you."

"Well," replied the other, "I think, by your voice and language, you're not a common man, and, although it's against my rule to open at this time o' night to any one, still I'll let you in--and sure I must only say my prayers aftherwards. In the manetime it's a sin for you or any one to disturb me at them; if you knew what the value of one sinful sowl is in the sight of G.o.d, you wouldn't do it--no, indeed. Wait till I light a candle."

He accordingly lighted a candle, and in the course of a few minutes admitted Woodward to his herbarium. When the latter entered, he looked about him with a curiosity not unnatural under the circ.u.mstances. His first sensation, however, was one that affected his olfactory nerves very strongly. A combination of smells, struggling with each other, as it were, for predominance, almost overpowered him. The good and the bad, the pleasant and the oppressive, were here mingled up in one sickening exhalation--for the disagreeable prevailed. The whole cabin was hung about with bunches of herbs, some dry and withered, others fresh and green, giving evidence that they had been only newly gathered. A number of bottles of all descriptions stood on wooden shelves, but without labels, for the old sinner's long practice and great practical memory enabled him to know the contents of every bottle with as much accuracy as if they had been labelled in capitals.

"How the devil can you live and sleep in such a suffocating compound of vile smells as this?" asked Woodward.

The old man glanced at him keenly, and replied,--

"Practice makes masther, sir--I'm used to them; I feel no smell but a good smell; and I sleep sound enough, barrin' when I wake o' one purpose, to think of and repent o' my sins, and of the ungrateful world that is about me; people that don't thank me for doin' them good--G.o.d forgive them! _amin acheernah!_"

"Why, now," replied Woodward, "if I had a friend of mine that was unwell--observe me, a friend of mine--that stood between me and my own interests, and that I was kind and charitable enough to forget any ill-will against him, and wished to recover him from his illness through the means of your skill and herbs, could you not a.s.sist me in such a good and Christian work?"

The old fellow gave him a shrewd look and piercing glance, but immediately replied--

"Why, to be sure, I could; what else is the business of my whole life but to cure my fellow-cratures of their complaints?"

"Yes; I believe you are very fortunate in that way; however, for the present, I don't require your aid, but it is very likely I shall soon.

There is a friend of mine in poor health, and if he doesn't otherwise recover, I shall probably apply to you; but, then, the party I speak of has such a prejudice against quacks of all sorts, that I fear we must subst.i.tute one of your draughts, in a private way, for that of the regular doctor. That, however, is not what I came to speak to you about.

Is not Caterine Collins, the fortune-teller a niece of yours?"

"She is, sir."

"Where and when could I see her?--but mark me, I don't wish to be seen speaking to her in public."

"Why not?--what's to prevent you from chattin' wid her in an aisy pleasant way in the streets; n.o.body will obsarve any thing then, or think it strange that a gentleman should have a funny piece o' discoorse wid a fortune-teller."

"I don't know that; observations might be made afterwards."

"But what can she do for you that I can't? She's a bad graft to have anything to do wid, and I wouldn't recommend you to put much trust in her."

"Why so?"

"Why, she's nothin' else than a schemer."

Little did old Solomon suspect that he was raising her very highly in the estimation of his visitor by falling foul of her in this manner.

"At all events," said Woodward, "I wish to see her; and, as I said, I came for the express purpose of asking you where and when I could see her--privately, I mean."

"That's what I can't tell you at the present spakin'," replied Solomon. "She has no fixed place of livin', but is here to-day and away to-morrow. G.o.d help you, she has travelled over the whole kingdom tellin' fortunes. Sometimes she's a dummy, and spakes to them by signs--sometimes a gypsy--sometimes she's this and sometimes she's that, but not often the same thing long; she's of as many colors as the rainbow. But if you do wish to see her, there's a chance that you may to-morrow. A conjurer has come to town, and he's to open to-morrow, for both town and country, and she'll surely be here, for that's taking the bit out of her mouth."

"A conjurer!"

"Yes, he was here before some time ago, about the night of that bonfire that was put out by the shower o' blood, but somehow he disappeared from the place, and he's now come back."

"A conjurer--well, I shall see the conjurer myself to-morrow; but can you give me no more accurate information with respect to your niece?"

"Sarra syllable--as I tould you, she's never two nights in the same place; but, if I should see her, I'll let her know your wishes; and what might I say, sir, that you wanted her to do for you?"

"That's none of your affair, most sagacious Solomon--I wish to speak with her myself, and privately, too; and if you see her, tell her to meet me here to-morrow night about this hour."

"I'll do so; but G.o.d forgive you for disturbin' me in my devotions, as you did. It's not often I'd give them up for any one; but sure out of regard for the proprietor o' the town I'd do that, and more for you."

"Here," replied Woodward, putting some silver into his hand, "let that console you; and tell your niece when you see her that I am a good paymaster; and, if I should stand in need of your skill, you shall find me so, too. Good-night, and may your prayers be powerful, as I know they come from a Christian heart, honest Solomon."

CHAPTER XI. A Conjurer's Levee.

We cannot form at this distance of time any adequate notion of the influence which a conjurer of those days exercised over the minds and feelings of the ignorant. It was necessary that he should be, or be supposed at least to be, well versed in judicial astrology, the use of medicine, and consequently able to cast a nativity, or cure any earthly complaint. There is scarcely any grade or species of superst.i.tion that is not a.s.sociated with or founded upon fear. The conjurer, consequently, was both feared and respected; and his character appeared in different phases to the people--each phase adapted to the corresponding character of those with whom he had to deal. The educated of those days, with but few exceptions, believed in astrology, and the possibility of developing the future fate and fortunes of an individual, whenever the hour of his birth and the name of the star or planet under which he was born could be ascertained. The more ignorant cla.s.s, however, generally a.s.sociated the character of the conjurer with that of the necromancer or magician, and consequently attributed his predictions to demoniacal influence.

Neither were they much mistaken, for they only judged of these impostors as they found them. In nineteen cases out of twenty, the character of the low astrologer, the necromancer, and the quack was a.s.sociated, and the influence of the stars and the aid of the devil were both considered as giving a.s.surance of supernatural knowledge to the same individual.

This unaccountable anxiety to see, as it were, the volume of futurity unrolled, so far as it discloses individual fate, has characterized mankind ever since the world began; and hence, even in the present day, the same anxiety among the ignorant to run after spae-women, fortunetellers, and gypsies, in order to have their fortunes told through the means of their adroit predictions.

On the following morning the whole town of Rathfillan was in a state of excitement by the rumor that a conjurer had arrived, for the purpose not only of telling all their future fates and fortunes, but of discovering all those who had been guilty of theft, and the places where the stolen property was to be found. This may seem a bold stroke; but when we consider the materials upon which the sagacious conjurer had to work, we need not feel surprised at his frequent success.

The conjurer in question had taken up his residence in the best inn which the little town of Rathfillan afforded. Immediately after his arrival he engaged the beadle, with bell in hand, to proclaim his presence in the town, and the purport of his visit to that part of the country. This was done through the medium of printed handbills, which that officer read and distributed through the crowds who attended him.

The bill in question was as follows:

"To the inhabitants of Rathfillan and the adjacent neighborhood, the following important communications are made:--