Clara Vaughan, Volume 2 (of 3)

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER VI.

  Annie Franks was exactly as Isola had described her, "such a nice girl."Kind-hearted like her father, truthful, ladylike, and sensitive;retiring too, and humble-minded, with a well of mute romance in theshadow of her heart, a wave of which she would not for the worlddisplay. The only vent she ever allowed this most expansive element wasnovel-reading, or a little quiet hero-worship. Her greatest happinesswas to sit upon a lonely bank, and read a slashing curtel-axe andgramercy romance, with lots of high-born ladies in it, and lots ofmoonlight love. If history got hard thumps among them, and chronology,like an unwound clock, was right but twice in twenty-four, simple Anniesmiled no less, so long as the summer sun flashed duly on pennon, helm,and gonfalon, and she could see bright cavalcades winding through thegreenwood shade. In "coat and waistcoat" novels her soul took nodelight. Not a shilling would she squeeze from her little beaded pursefor all the quicksilver of Dickens, or the frosted gold[#] of Thackeray.Yet she was not by any means what fast young ladies call a "spooney;"she had plenty of common sense upon the things of daily life, plenty ofgeneral information, and no lack of gentle self-respect.

  [#] "Ice-tempered steel" I had written. But alas, the great author isdead, and they say that his kind heart was grieved by nothing so much asthe charge of Cynicism. If he were a Cynic, would that we all weredogs!--"[Greek: _Kynos ommat' echon, kradien d' elaphoio_.]"--C.V. 1864.

  Now she was wending through an upland meet for gray-clad reverie, whereshe might dream for days and days, and none but silly deer intrude. Aswe passed along in the gloaming of the May, through bosomed lawn andbosky dell, with lilac plumes for cavaliers, and hawthorn sweeps forladies' trains, the soft gray eyes of Annie ceased at last to watch me,and her thoughts were in costume of Chevy Chase or Crecy.

  By reason of the message sent the day before, no one in the houseexpected me; so we stole in quietly, lest my uncle should be alarmed,and I requested Gregory, tipsy Bob's successor, to bring Jane to meetus, in my own little room. Annie being installed there, to her greatdelight, and allowed free boot of "Marry, Sir knight," and "Now by myhalidame," I went to see my poor dear uncle, who by this time wasprepared for my visit. Very weak he seemed, and nervous, and morerejoiced at my return than even I had expected. To me also it was warmcomfort in my cold pride-ailment to be with one of my own kin, whom nonecould well disparage. There was a dignity about him, an air of loftybirth, which my own darling father had been too genial to support. SoonI perceived from my uncle's manner, that something had happened since mydeparture to add to his uneasiness. But he offered no explanation and Idid not like to ask him. He in turn perceived the heavy darkdespondency, which, in spite of all my efforts, would at times betrayitself. Pride and indignation supported me, when I began to think, butthen I could not always think, whereas I could always feel. Moreover,pride and indignation are, in almost every case, props that carry barbs.In a word, though I would scorn the love-lorn maiden's part, it was sadfor me to know that I could never love again.

  With a father's tenderness, he feebly drew my head to his tremblingbreast, and asked me in a tearful whisper what had happened to me. ButI was too proud to tell him. Oh that I had not been! What misery mighthave been spared to many. But all the time my head lay there, I was onfire with shame and agony, thinking of the breast on which my hair hadlast been shed.

  "Now, good nurse Clara," he said at last with a poor attempt atplayfulness, "I shall have no more confidence in your professionalskill, unless you wheel me forth to-morrow with a cheerful face. Youare tired to-night, my love, and so should I have been, if you had notcome home. To-morrow you shall tell me why you came so suddenly andsaved me a day of longing. And to-morrow, if I am strong enough, I willtell you a little history, which may be lost, like many a great one,unless it is quickly told. Stop--one cup of tea, dear, and how proud Iam to pour it out for you--and then I will not keep you from a livelierfriend. To-morrow, you must introduce me. I still like pretty girls,and you should have brought that lovely Isola with you. I can't thinkwhy you didn't. She would have been most welcome."

  "Come, uncle, I shall be jealous. The young lady I have brought isquite pretty enough for you."

  He sighed at some remembrance, and then asked abruptly,

  "Do you mean to sleep, my darling, in the little room to-night?" Hisvoice shook so, while he asked this question, that I was quite certainsomething had alarmed him. The little room was the one I had occupiedbetween the main corridor and his present bedroom. It was meant for anante-room, not a sleeping chamber; but I had brought my little ironbedstead thither.

  "To be sure I do, dear uncle; do you suppose, because I have been offduty, that I mean to be cashiered? Only one thing I must tell you; Ihave brought home with me one of the very best friends I ever had. Youhave heard me talk of Giudice. I cannot bear the thought of partingwith him to-night, he will cry so dreadfully in the strange stables; andin London he always slept on the mat outside my door. May I have him inthe lobby, uncle, you will never hear him move, and he never snoresexcept just after dinner?"

  "To be sure, my pet; I would not part you for the world. God bless you,my own child, and keep your true heart lighter."

  If I had been really his own child, he could not have been more lovingto me, than he had now become.

  After giving Annie Franks her tea, which she was far too deep intournament to drink, I paid a visit to Mrs. Fletcher's room, and learnedfrom her that nothing, so far as she knew, had happened to disturb myuncle: Mrs. Daldy had not been near the house, and there was a rumourafloat that she had been called to take part in a revival meeting nearSwansea. So after introducing Judy, who was a dreadful dog for jam, andhaving him admired almost as much as he ought to be, I returned toAnnie, and found her in high delight with everything and everybody, andmost of all with her tapestry-writer. Leaving her at last under Tilly'scare, Judy and I were making off for our sleeping quarters, when truantMatilda followed me down the passage hastily.

  "Oh, Miss, please, Miss, I want to tell you something, and I did notlike to name it before that nice young lady, because I am sure she istimid like."

  Matilda looked not timid like, but terrified exceedingly, as she staredon every side with her candle guttering.

  "Hold your candle up, Matilda; and tell me what it is."

  By this time we were in the main passage, "corridor" they called it, andcould see all down it by the faint light of some oil-lamps, to the orielwindow at the farther end, whereon the moon (now nearly full again) wasshining.

  "Why, Miss, the ghost was walking last night, and the night before."

  "Nonsense, Matilda. Don't be so absurd."

  "It's true, Miss. True as you stand there. Pale gray it is this time,and so tall, and the face as white as ashes." And a shiver ran throughTilly, at her own description--"You know, Miss, it's the time of year,and she always walks three nights together, from the big east window tothis end and back again. So please to lock your door, Miss, and bolt ittoo inside."

  "Well done, Tilly! Does any one intend to wait up for the ghost? Whattime does it come?"

  "One o'clock, Miss, as punctual as a time-piece. But could you suppose,Miss, any one would dare to wait up and see it?"

  "Then how have they seen it, in the name of folly?"

  "Why, Miss, I'll tell you. One of the carriage-horses got aninflammation in his eyes, and the farrier give orders to have it spongednever more than three hours between, and so William Edwards, thehead-groom if you please, Miss"--Tilly curtseyed here, because this washer legitimate sweetheart--"he stops up till one o'clock to see to it,and then Job Leyson goes instead. So William come in, Miss, on Mondaynight, to go to bed, please, Miss, and he took the short cut, not thathe were allowed, Miss, or would think of taking a liberty on no accountwhatever, but he were that sleepy he didn't know the way to bed, so hewent across the corridor for the short cut from the kitchen gallery tothe servants' passage; and there he saw--he hadn't any light, M
iss, andthe lamps all out--Goodness me! Whatever was that? Did you hear it,Miss?"

  "Yes, and see it, Tilly; it's a daddy in your candle. Go on, Tilly, willyou. Am I to stop here all night and get as bad as you are?"

  "There William Edwards, a man who never swears or drinks, there he sawall in the dark, coming so stately down the corridor, as if it hadn'troom enough, with one arm up like this, a tall pale melancholy ghost,and he knew it was the lady who was wronged and killed, when the greatwars was, Miss, two hundred year agone."

  "Well, Tilly, and did he speak to it?"

  "He was that frightened, Miss, he could not move or speak; but he fellagain the wall in the side-passage, with his eyes coming out of hishead, and his hair up like my wicker-broom. And then she vanished away,and he got to bed, and did perspire so, they was forced to wring theblankets."

  "Capital, Tilly! And who saw her the next night?"

  "Why that nincompoop Job Leyson, Miss. Our William was a deal too wiseto go that way any more, but he tell Job Leyson, and he a foolish emptyfellow, perhaps you know, Miss. 'Ho,' says Job, 'I often hear tell ofher, to-night I'll have a peep.' So last night when William went to bedon the servants' side, down comes Job and takes the front way, prettyimpudent of him I think. And, Miss, I don't know what he see, I neversays much to him; but there they found him in the saddle-room, at fiveo'clock this morning, with his heels up on a rack, and his head down inthe bucket, and never a bit of sponge had come near the poor mare'seye."

  "Oh, thank you, Tilly. Perhaps you had better snuff your candle. Noghost will have much chance that comes near my Judy." And with that Iwent to bed, tired of such nonsense.

  An hour of deep sleep from pure weariness both of mind and body, and Iawoke with every fibre full of nervous life. The moon was high in thesouth-east, and three narrow stripes of lozenged light fell upon the oldoak floor. Although my uncle had left the gable where the windows facedthe setting sun, he still kept to the western wing. The house, whichwas built in the reign of Henry the Eighth, covered the site and in someparts embodied the relics of a much more ancient structure. The planwas very simple, at least as regarded the upstair rooms. From east towest ran one long corridor, crossed at right angles, in the centre andnear the ends, by three gable passages. Although there were so manyservants, not half the rooms were occupied: all the best bedrooms hadbeen empty many a year. No festivities had filled them since myfather's days. Gloom and terror still hung over the eastern part, wherehe had been so foully murdered. In most of the downstair windows alongthe front of the house, the rickety lattice of diamond panes had beenreplaced by clear plate-glass, but the old hall, and the corridor, andsome of the gable windows still retained their gorgeous tints andheraldry.

  As the shadows of the mullions stole upon my counterpane, there began tocreep across my mind uneasy inklings of the ghost. A less imaginativeman than William Edwards, I who had often enjoyed his escort, knew wellthere could not be. As for Job Leyson I could not tell with whatcreative powers his mind might be endowed; but--to judge fromphysiognomy--a light ring snaffle would hold them.

  Thinking, with less and less complacence, of this apparition story, andthe red legend which lay beneath it, for the spectral lady was believedto be a certain Beatrice Vaughan, daughter of the Cavalier who perceivedthe moss-light, and heiress of the house 200 years ago--thinking ofthis, I say, with more and more of flutter, I sat up in the bed andlistened. My uncle's thick irregular breathing, the play of an ivy-leafon the mullion, the half-hour struck by the turret-clock, were all thesounds I heard; except that my heart, so listless and desponding, wasre-asserting some right to throb for its own safety. With my hand uponit, I listened for another minute, resolving if I heard nothing more tomake a great nest in the pillows--I always want three at least--and shutboth ears to destiny. But there came, before the minute passed, a low,long, hollow sound, an echo of trembling expectation. In a moment Ileaped from the bed; though I had never heard it before, I knew it couldonly be the bloodhound's cautious warning.

  I flung a long cloak round me, gathered close my hair, hurried velvetslippers on, locked my uncle in, and quietly opened the outer door.There stood Giudice in the moonlight, with his head towards the far eastwindow, his ears laid back, his crest erect, and in his throat agurgling sound, a growl suppressed by wonder. He never turned to look atme, nor even wagged his tail, but watched and waited grimly. I laid myhand upon him, and then glided down the corridor, avoiding the moonlightpatches. Giudice followed, like my shadow, never a foot behind me, histread as stealthy as a cat's. Before I reached the oriel window wherethe broad light fell, something told me to draw aside and watch. Iwithdrew, and Giudice with me, into the dark entrance to my father'sroom. Here we would see what came. Scarcely had I been there tenthrobs of the heart, when between me and the central light, where themoonbeams fell askance, rose a tall gray figure. I am not quite acoward, for a woman at least, but every drop of blood within me at thatsight stood still. Even Giudice trembled, and his growl was hushed, andevery hair upon him bristled as he crouched into my cloak. Slowly theform was rising, like a corpse raised from a coffin by the loose end ofthe winding-sheet. I could not speak, I could not move, much less couldI think. With a silent stately walk, or glide--for no feet could Isee--the figure came towards the embrasure where we lurked. Ashy whitethe face was, large the eyes and hollow, all the hair fell down theback, the form was tall and graceful, one arm was lifted as in appeal,to heaven, and the shroud drooped from it, the other lay across thebreast. The colour of the shroud was gray, pale, unearthly gray. Forone moment as it passed, I kept my teeth from chattering. Giudicecrawled one step before me, with his mind made up for death. Back theblood leaped to my heart, as the apparition glided slowly down thecorridor without sigh or footfall.

  What to do I knew not; my feet were now unrooted from the ground.Should I fly into my father's death-room? No; I was afraid. To staywhere I was seemed best, but how could I see it come back, as I knew itwould? Another such suspension of my life, and all, I felt, would beover.

  Suddenly, while still the figure was receding in the distance, I saw agreat change in the bloodhound. He strode into the corridor, and beganto follow. At the same time, the deep gurgle in his throat revived. Ina moment, it flashed through me that he had smelt the ghost to be athing of flesh and blood. It might be my father's murderer. At anyrate it had entered as he must have done. Close behind the dog I stoleafter the spectral figure. The supernatural horror fled; all my lifewas in my veins. What became of me I cared not, I who was so wretched.Almost to the end, that gliding form preceded us, then turned down aflight of steps leading to the basement. Triple resolution gushedthrough me at this; this was the spot where the ghost was known to turn,and glide back through the corridor. When it had descended abouthalf-way down the staircase, where the steps were on the turn andnarrow, standing at the head I distinctly heard a flop, as of aslipper-heel dropping from the foot, and then caught up again. Whatghost was likely to want slippers? And what mortal presence need Ifear, with Judy at my side? Keeping him behind me by a gentle touch, Ihurried down the stairs. Luckily, I stopped before I turned the corner,for a gleam came up the passage; the ghost had struck a lucifer.

  It was a dark and narrow passage, proof to any moon-light, and thespectre lost no time in lighting a small lamp, to find the study door; Imean my uncle's private study, where he kept his papers. The lamp wasof peculiar shape, very small, and fitted with three reflectors, tothrow the light in converging planes.

  Still remaining in deep shadow, I saw the person--ghost nolonger--produce a key, open the study door and enter. Then an attemptwas made to lock the door from the inside, but--as I knew by thesound--the false key would not work that way, and the door was onlyclosed. Whispering into Judy's ear, that if he dared to move--for hishonest wrath at these burglarious doings could scarcely be controlled--Iwould make a ghost of him next day, I left him in the passage, andsoftly followed the intruder. First I looked thr
ough the key-hole; theroom was very dark and full of heavy furniture; I could see nothing; butmust risk the chance. So I slipped in noiselessly and closed the doorbehind me. With the ghostly apparel thrown aside, and a mask laid on anebony desk, stood intently occupied at the large bureau, which I hadonce so longed to search, my arch-enemy, Mrs. Daldy. I was not at allsurprised, having felt long since that it could be no other. Sittingupon a stiff-backed velvet chair, in the shadow of an oakenbookcase--crouch I would not for her--I waited to see what she would do.Already the folding-doors of the large bureau were open; their creakinghad drowned the noise of my entry. Before her was exposed a multitudeof drawers. All the visible doors she had probably explored on theprevious nights, as well as the other repositories of various kindswhich the room contained. Her search was narrowed now to one particularpart of this bureau.

  The folding-doors were very large, and richly inlaid with arabesques andscroll-work of satin-wood and ebony: all the inside was fitted andadorned with ivory pillars, small alcoves containing baby mirrors,flights of chequered steps, and other quaint devices, besides the morebusiness-like and useful sliding trays. With the lamp-light flashing onit, it looked like a palace for the Queen of Dolls--a place for puppetceremony and pleasure. Every drawer was faced with marquetrie, everylittle door had panels of shagreen. In short, the whole thing wouldhave been the pride of any shop in Wardour Street, when that street wasitself. Having never seen it open till now, I was quite astonished,though I don't know how often my father had promised to show it to me onmy very next birthday, if I were good. Probably I was never goodenough.

  Without any hesitation, Mrs. Daldy pressed a fan, or slide, ofcedar-wood, in the right corner of the cabinet; the slide sunk into agroove, and disclosed two deep, but narrow drawers; these she pulled outfrom their boxes, and laid aside; they were full of papers, which she nodoubt had already examined. Then she placed the diminutive lamp on oneof the doll steps, and produced from her pocket three or four littletools. Before commencing with these, she probed and pressed thepartition between the sockets of those two drawers, in every imaginableway--a last attempt to find the countersign of some private nook, whichhad defied her the night before.

  At length, with a low cry of impatience, she seized a small, thinchisel, and a bottle of clear liquid: with the one she softened the buhlveneer upon the partition's face, and with the other she removed it.Then, after a little unscrewing, she carefully prized away the stop ofcedar-wood, while I admired her workman-like proceedings (so far as theywere visible to me), and the graceful action of the arms she was soproud of. Her shoulder came rather in my way, but I got a glimpse of thenarrow, vertical opening, where the cedar-stop had been. She drew along breath of delight and pride, then thrust a wire-crook into thisopening, and hooked forth two thin and closely-fastened packets. Eagerlyshe looked at them; they were what she wanted. No doubt she knew theircontents; her object was to get hold of them. Having placed themcarefully in her bosom, she prepared for a little more joiner's work, torestore what she had dismantled. Her dexterity was so pleasing, that Ilet her proceed for a while. She soon refixed the cedar-stop, tapping itin the most knowing way with the handle of the screw-driver, then shescrewed it tightly, and spread the wood with some liquid cement to carrythe veneer. She had mislaid the narrow strip of tortoise-shell andbrass, and was looking for it on the chequered steps, when I calledaloud:

  "Shall I show you where you put it, Mrs. Daldy? But where on earth didyou learn your trade?"

  Never was amazement written more strongly on any human face. If theghost had frightened me, I now had my full revenge. She dropped thebottle of cement, and it rolled on the cabinet steps; she turned, withher face as white as the mask, and glared round the room, for I wasstill concealed in the recess. I thought she would have blown out thelamp, but she had not presence of mind enough: otherwise among all thatfurniture it would not have been easy to catch her; and she knew nothingof my sentinel at the door.

  After some quiet enjoyment of her terror, I came forth, and met herfairly.

  "What, Clara Vaughan! Is it possible? I thought you were in London."

  "Is it possible that I have found a Christian, so truly earnest abouther soul, so yearning over the unregenerate, committing a black robberyin the dead of night? Is this what you call a wholesome conviction ofsin?"

  Low exultation I confess: but the highest blood in the land, if it wereblood, could scarcely have forborne it: for how I abhorred thathypocrite!

  For a time she knew not what to do or say, but glared at me without muchChristian feeling. Then she tried to carry it off in a grandly superiorstyle. She drew herself up, and looked as if I were not worth reasoningwith.

  "Perhaps you are young enough to imagine, that because appearances areat this moment peculiar--"

  "Thank you: there is no need to inquire into the state of my mind. Bekind enough to restore those packets which you have stolen."

  "Indeed! I am perfectly amazed at your audacity. What I have belongs tome righteously, and a stronger hand than yours is required to rob me."She grasped her chisel, and stood in a menacing attitude. I answeredher very quietly, and without approaching nearer.

  "If I wish to see you torn in pieces, I have only to raise my hand.Giudice!" And I gave a peculiar whistle thoroughly known to my dog. Heleaped against the door, forced the worn catch from the guard, and stoodat my side, with his great eyes flashing and his fangs laid bare. Mrs.Daldy jumped to the other side of the table, and seized a heavy chair.

  "My dear child, my dear girl, I believe you are right after all. It isso hard to judge--for God's sake keep him back--so hard to judge whenone's own rights are in question. The old unregenerate tendencies--"

  "Will lodge you in Gloucester jail to-morrow. Once more thosepapers--or--" and I looked at Giudice and began to raise my hand. Hiseyes were on it, and he gathered himself for the spring like a cannonrecoiling. In the height of her terror, she tore her dress open andflung me the packets across the end of the table. I examined and fixedthem to Judy's collar. Then we both advanced, and penned her up in acorner. It was so delightful to see her for once in her nativemeanness, despoiled of her cant and phylactery, like a Pharisee under anoil-press. She fell on her knees and implored me, in plain earnestEnglish for once, to let her go. She appealed to my self-interest, andoffered me partnership in her schemes; whereby alone I could regain thebirthright of which I had been so heinously robbed. I only asked if shecould reveal the mystery of my father's death. She could not tell meanything, or she would have jumped at the chance. At last I promised tolet her go, if she would show me the secret entrance under the orielwindow. It was not for her own sake I released her, but to avoid thescandal and painful excitement which her trial must have created. Whenshe departed, now thoroughly crestfallen, I followed her out of thehouse by the secret passage, wherein she had stored a few of herstage-properties. Giudice, whom, for fear of treachery, I kept at myside all the time, showed his great teeth in the moonlight, and almostchallenged my right to let her go. After taking the packets from him, Igave him a sheepskin mat under the window there, and left him on guard;although there was little chance of another attempt being made, whilethe papers were in my keeping. Her mask and spectral drapery remainedwith me, as trophies of this my ghostly adventure.