CHAPTER XXIV.
A VERITABLE GHOST.
What a day of glory it had been to the spinster, this day on whichMadeline had read her three letters, and Cora had explored the shut-upwing.
And what a day of torture to fastidious Edward Percy, who would havewelcomed any third presence, even Cora or John Arthur--any one,anything, was better than that long slavery at the feet of a paintedand too-visibly ancient mistress. But even the longest days have anend. At last he was set at liberty, and he hurried back to the littleinn, literally kicking his way through the Autumn darkness.
The old house of Oakley stood, with its last light extinguished, talland somber, against a back-ground of black sky and blacker trees. Atlast every soul under its roof was asleep--all but one. That one wasvery wide awake and intent on mischief.
Love-making, dear reader, although you may not know it, is a wearisomebusiness, even if ever so agreeable. Especially is it wearisome tothose like Miss Arthur--maidens whose waists are too tight, whosecomplexions will ill-endure lip service, and whose tresses are liableto become not only dishevelled but dislocated. Therefore, when MissArthur had dismissed her lover, with a sigh of regret, she lost notime in doffing her glories with a sigh of relief.
Even a very rich and hearty luncheon, which her maid had provided, wasgormandized rather than enjoyed, so tempting did her couch look to theworn-out damsel.
Miss Arthur had refreshed herself with an hour's uninterrupted repose,and was revelling in a dreamy Arcadia, hand in hand with her beloved,when something cold falling on her cheek dispelled her visions. Shestarted broad awake, and face to face with a horrible reality.
The moon was pouring a flood of silvery light in through the twowindows, facing the south, whose curtains were drawn back, making theroom almost as light as at mid-day.
And there, near her bed, almost within reach of her hand, stood_Madeline Payne_, all swathed in white clinging cerements, ghastly asa corpse, hollow-eyed and awful, but, nevertheless, Madeline Payne!Over her white temples dropped rings of curly, yellow hair, and acrossthe pale lips a mocking smile was flitting.
Miss Arthur gasped and closed her eyes very tight, but they would notstay closed. They flew open again to behold the vision still there.The spinster was transfixed with horror. Cold drops of perspirationoozed out upon her forehead and trickled down her nose. She clutchedat the bedclothes convulsively, and gazed and gazed.
Wider and wider stared her eyes, but no sound escaped her lips. Shegazed and gazed, but the specter would not vanish. Poor Miss Arthurwas terror-stricken almost to the verge of catalepsy.
In consideration of the persistence with which they return again andagain, according to good authority, ghosts in general must be endowedwith much patience. Be this as it may of the average ghost, certain itis that this particular apparition, after glaring immovably at thespinster for the space of five minutes, began to find it monotonous.
Slowly, slowly from among the snowy drapery came forth a white hand,that pointed at the occupant of the bed with silent menace.
"Near the bed, almost within reach of her hand, stood_Madeline Payne_, all swathed in white!"--page 252.]
The spell was broken. The lips of Miss Arthur were unclosed, andshrieks, one following the other in rapid succession, resounded in theears of even the most remote sleepers.
With the utterance of her first yell, Miss Arthur had made a desperateplunge to the further side of her bed, away from the specter; and,turning her face to the wall, shut out thus the appalling whitevision.
Having once found her voice, Miss Arthur continued to clutch at thebed clothes, glare at the wall, and shriek spasmodically, even afterher "inner consciousness" must have assured her that the room now heldothers beside herself and the ghost, supposing it to be still on theopposite side of the bed.
Cora, in a state of wild _deshabille_; John Arthur, ditto, and armedwith a cane; Susan and Mary, half in the room and half out; thenCeline Leroque, apparently much frightened, without knowing at what.
A volley of questions from the master of the house, and a return ofcourage to the mistress. But Miss Arthur only gathered herselftogether, took in a fresh supply of breath, and embarked in anotherseries of howls.
Nothing was amiss in the room; it could not have been a burglar. Thenight lamp was burning dimly behind its heavy shade; on the table werethe fragments of Miss Arthur's lunch; and Mr. and Mrs. Arthur hadfound easy access through the closed, but unbolted door.
After a time, a long time, during which Cora and Celine administeredsal volatile and other restoratives, Mr. Arthur douched her with oathsand ice water, and the servants whispered in a group, the maiden foundvoice.
It was a very feeble voice, and it conveyed to her audience theastounding intelligence that she had seen a ghost--Madeline Payne'sghost.
Upon hearing her story, John Arthur seemed at first a little startled.But Cora only laughed, and Celine, glancing significantly at the lunchtable, said, with a slight smile:
"Mademoiselle has nerves, and she may have lunched heartily beforeretiring."
John Arthur strode across the room and viewed the _debris_ ofluncheon. "Humph!" he grunted. "Oysters and salads, potted meat andpastry; strong coffee and lemon syllabub with brandy. Good Lord, Idon't know what should have kept the contents of an entire cemeteryfrom sweeping down upon your slumbers, you female gourmand. Ghostsindeed!"
And he stamped out of the room in high dudgeon. His tirade was whollylost upon his sister, however, for that lady was whimperingcomfortably and putting all her feeble energy into the effort.
Cora glanced up as the door banged after her lord and master, andordered the servants back to bed. Then she turned toward Celine,saying:
"That door was certainly not locked when we came to it, for I was hereeven sooner than Mr. Arthur."
Celine smiled again: "Mademoiselle dismissed me before she hadfinished her luncheon. I had disrobed her previously, and she said sheshould retire as soon as she drank her coffee. She may have forgottenthe door."
Cora turned toward the bed. "Did you lock your door, Ellen?"
But Ellen did not know; she could not remember if she had or had not.
Then Cora said to Celine: "I am glad to find you so sensible. We shallhave hard work now to convince those ridiculous servants that there isnot a ghost in every corner."
"I do not think that graves open," replied the girl, seriously.
Then she gave her undivided attention to her mistress, who bade fairto be hysterical for the rest of the night.
Miss Arthur would not be left alone again. No argument could convinceher that the specter was born of her imagination, and therefore notlikely to return. So Cora bade Celine prepare to spend the remainderof the night in Miss Arthur's dressing room.
Accordingly, Celine withdrew to her own apartment, where herpreparations were made as follows:
First, she shook out the folds of a sheet that hung over a chair, andrestored it to its proper place on the bed. Then she removed from herdressing stand a box of white powder, and brushed away all traces ofsaid powder from her garments and the floor. Next, she carefully hidaway a key that had fallen to the floor and lay near the classicallyfolded sheet. These things accomplished, she made a few additions toher toilet, extinguished the light, locked her door carefully, tryingit afterward to make assurance doubly sure, and retraced her steps torelieve Cora, who was dutifully sitting by the spinster's bed, andbeginning to shiver in her somewhat scanty drapery.
As the night wore on, and Miss Arthur became calmed and quiet, thegirl lay back in the big dressing chair, gazing into the grate, andthinking. Her thoughts were sometimes of Claire, sometimes ofClarence; of the Girards, and of Edward Percy; then of her success asa ghostess, and at this she would almost laugh.
But from every subject her mind would turn again and again to onequestion, that repeated itself until it took the form of a goblin anddanced through her dreams, when at last she slept, whispering over andover:
"What is it th
at Cora Arthur carries in a belt about her waist? whatis it? what is it?"
For the girl had made a strange discovery while Cora was sittingbeside Miss Arthur's bed, clad only in night's scanty drapery.
Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 25