Delphi Complete Works of Sheridan Le Fanu

by J. Sheridan le Fanu

  It stepped cautiously into the chamber, and with so little noise, that had I not actually seen it, I do not think I should have been aware of its presence. It was arrayed in a kind of woollen nightdress, and a white handkerchief or cloth was bound tightly about the head; I had no difficulty, spite of the strangeness of the attire, in recognising the blind woman whom I so much dreaded.

  She stooped down, bringing her head nearly to the ground, and in that attitude she remained motionless for some moments, no doubt in order to ascertain if any suspicious sound were stirring.

  She was apparently satisfied by her observations, for she immediately recommenced her silent progress towards a ponderous mahogany dressing-table of my husband’s. When she had reached it, she paused again, and appeared to listen attentively for some minutes; she then noiselessly opened one of the drawers, from which, having groped for some time, she took something, which I soon perceived to be a case of razors. She opened it, and tried the edge of each of the two instruments upon the skin of her hand; she quickly selected one, which she fixed firmly in her grasp. She now stooped down as before, and having listened for a time, she, with the hand that was disengaged, groped her way into the dressing-room where Lord Glenfallen lay fast asleep.

  I was fixed as if in the tremendous spell of a nightmare. I could not stir even a finger; I could not lift my voice; I could not even breathe; and though I expected every moment to see the sleeping man murdered, I could not even close my eyes to shut out the horrible spectacle, which I had not the power to avert.

  I saw the woman approach the sleeping figure, she laid the unoccupied hand lightly along his clothes, and having thus ascertained his identity, she, after a brief interval, turned back and again entered my chamber; here she bent down again to listen.

  I had now not a doubt but that the razor was intended for my throat; yet the terrific fascination which had locked all my powers so long, still continued to bind me fast.

  I felt that my life depended upon the slightest ordinary exertion, and yet I could not stir one joint from the position in which I lay, nor even make noise enough to waken Lord Glenfallen.

  The murderous woman now, with long, silent steps, approached the bed; my very heart seemed turning to ice; her left hand, that which was disengaged, was upon the pillow; she gradually slid it forward towards my head, and in an instant, with the speed of lightning, it was clutched in my hair, while, with the other hand, she dashed the razor at my throat.

  A slight inaccuracy saved me from instant death; the blow fell short, the point of the razor grazing my throat. In a moment, I know not how, I found myself at the other side of the bed, uttering shriek after shriek; the wretch was, however, determined if possible to murder me.

  Scrambling along by the curtains, she rushed round the bed towards me; I seized the handle of the door to make my escape. It was, however, fastened. At all events, I could not open it. From the mere instinct of recoiling terror, I shrunk back into a corner. She was now within a yard of me. Her hand was upon my face.

  I closed my eyes fast, expecting never to open them again, when a blow, inflicted from behind by a strong arm, stretched the monster senseless at my feet. At the same moment the door opened, and several domestics, alarmed by my cries, entered the apartment.

  I do not recollect what followed, for I fainted. One swoon succeeded another, so long and deathlike, that my life was considered very doubtful.

  At about ten o’clock, however, I sunk into a deep and refreshing sleep, from which I was awakened at about two, that I might swear my deposition before a magistrate, who attended for that purpose.

  I accordingly did so, as did also Lord Glenfallen, and the woman was fully committed to stand her trial at the ensuing assizes.

  I shall never forget the scene which the examination of the blind woman and of the other parties afforded.

  She was brought into the room in the custody of two servants. She wore a kind of flannel wrapper which had not been changed since the night before. It was torn and soiled, and here and there smeared with blood, which had flowed in large quantities from a wound in her head. The white handkerchief had fallen off in the scuffle, and her grizzled hair fell in masses about her wild and deadly pale countenance.

  She appeared perfectly composed, however, and the only regret she expressed throughout, was at not having succeeded in her attempt, the object of which she did not pretend to conceal.

  On being asked her name, she called herself the Countess Glenfallen, and refused to give any other title.

  ‘The woman’s name is Flora Van-Kemp,’ said Lord Glenfallen.

  ‘It WAS, it WAS, you perjured traitor and cheat!’ screamed the woman; and then there followed a volley of words in some foreign language. ‘Is there a magistrate here?’ she resumed; ‘I am Lord Glenfallen’s wife — I’ll prove it — write down my words. I am willing to be hanged or burned, so HE meets his deserts. I did try to kill that doll of his; but it was he who put it into my head to do it — two wives were too many; I was to murder her, or she was to hang me; listen to all I have to say.’

  Here Lord Glenfallen interrupted.

  ‘I think, sir,’ said he, addressing the magistrate, ‘that we had better proceed to business; this unhappy woman’s furious recriminations but waste our time. If she refuses to answer your questions, you had better, I presume, take my depositions.’

  ‘And are you going to swear away my life, you black-perjured murderer?’ shrieked the woman. ‘Sir, sir, sir, you must hear me,’ she continued, addressing the magistrate; ‘I can convict him — he bid me murder that girl, and then, when I failed, he came behind me, and struck me down, and now he wants to swear away my life. Take down all I say.’

  ‘If it is your intention,’ said the magistrate, ‘to confess the crime with which you stand charged, you may, upon producing sufficient evidence, criminate whom you please.’

  ‘Evidence! — I have no evidence but myself,’ said the woman. ‘I will swear it all — write down my testimony — write it down, I say — we shall hang side by side, my brave lord — all your own handy-work, my gentle husband.’

  This was followed by a low, insolent, and sneering laugh, which, from one in her situation, was sufficiently horrible.

  ‘I will not at present hear anything,’ replied he, ‘but distinct answers to the questions which I shall put to you upon this matter.’

  ‘Then you shall hear nothing,’ replied she sullenly, and no inducement or intimidation could bring her to speak again.

  Lord Glenfallen’s deposition and mine were then given, as also those of the servants who had entered the room at the moment of my rescue.

  The magistrate then intimated that she was committed, and must proceed directly to gaol, whither she was brought in a carriage; of Lord Glenfallen’s, for his lordship was naturally by no means indifferent to the effect which her vehement accusations against himself might produce, if uttered before every chance hearer whom she might meet with between Cahergillagh and the place of confinement whither she was despatched.

  During the time which intervened between the committal and the trial of the prisoner, Lord Glenfallen seemed to suffer agonies of mind which baffle all description; he hardly ever slept, and when he did, his slumbers seemed but the instruments of new tortures, and his waking hours were, if possible, exceeded in intensity of terrors by the dreams which disturbed his sleep.

  Lord Glenfallen rested, if to lie in the mere attitude of repose were to do so, in his dressing-room, and thus I had an opportunity of witnessing, far oftener than I wished it, the fearful workings of his mind. His agony often broke out into such fearful paroxysms that delirium and total loss of reason appeared to be impending. He frequently spoke of flying from the country, and bringing with him all the witnesses of the appalling scene upon which the prosecution was founded; then, again, he would fiercely lament that the blow which he had inflicted had not ended all.

  The assizes arrived, however, and upon the day appointed Lord Glenfallen and
I attended in order to give our evidence.

  The cause was called on, and the prisoner appeared at the bar.

  Great curiosity and interest were felt respecting the trial, so that the court was crowded to excess.

  The prisoner, however, without appearing to take the trouble of listening to the indictment, pleaded guilty, and no representations on the part of the court availed to induce her to retract her plea.

  After much time had been wasted in a fruitless attempt to prevail upon her to reconsider her words, the court proceeded, according to the usual form, to pass sentence.

  This having been done, the prisoner was about to be removed, when she said, in a low, distinct voice:

  ‘A word — a word, my lord! — Is Lord Glenfallen here in the court?’

  On being told that he was, she raised her voice to a tone of loud menace, and continued:

  ‘Hardress, Earl of Glenfallen, I accuse you here in this court of justice of two crimes, — first, that you married a second wife, while the first was living; and again, that you prompted me to the murder, for attempting which I am to die. Secure him — chain him — bring him here.’

  There was a laugh through the court at these words, which were naturally treated by the judge as a violent extemporary recrimination, and the woman was desired to be silent.

  ‘You won’t take him, then?’ she said; ‘you won’t try him? You’ll let him go free?’

  It was intimated by the court that he would certainly be allowed ‘to go free,’ and she was ordered again to be removed.

  Before, however, the mandate was executed, she threw her arms wildly into the air, and uttered one piercing shriek so full of preternatural rage and despair, that it might fitly have ushered a soul into those realms where hope can come no more.

  The sound still rang in my ears, months after the voice that had uttered it was for ever silent.

  The wretched woman was executed in accordance with the sentence which had been pronounced.

  For some time after this event, Lord Glenfallen appeared, if possible, to suffer more than he had done before, and altogether his language, which often amounted to half confessions of the guilt imputed to him, and all the circumstances connected with the late occurrences, formed a mass of evidence so convincing that I wrote to my father, detailing the grounds of my fears, and imploring him to come to Cahergillagh without delay, in order to remove me from my husband’s control, previously to taking legal steps for a final separation.

  Circumstanced as I was, my existence was little short of intolerable, for, besides the fearful suspicions which attached to my husband, I plainly perceived that if Lord Glenfallen were not relieved, and that speedily, insanity must supervene. I therefore expected my father’s arrival, or at least a letter to announce it, with indescribable impatience.

  About a week after the execution had taken place, Lord Glenfallen one morning met me with an unusually sprightly air.

  ‘Fanny,’ said he, ‘I have it now for the first time in my power to explain to your satisfaction everything which has hitherto appeared suspicious or mysterious in my conduct. After breakfast come with me to my study, and I shall, I hope, make all things clear.’

  This invitation afforded me more real pleasure than I had experienced for months. Something had certainly occurred to tranquillize my husband’s mind in no ordinary degree, and I thought it by no means impossible that he would, in the proposed interview, prove himself the most injured and innocent of men.

  Full of this hope, I repaired to his study at the appointed hour. He was writing busily when I entered the room, and just raising his eyes, he requested me to be seated.

  I took a chair as he desired, and remained silently awaiting his leisure, while he finished, folded, directed, and sealed his letter. Laying it then upon the table with the address downward, he said,

  ‘My dearest Fanny, I know I must have appeared very strange to you and very unkind — often even cruel. Before the end of this week I will show you the necessity of my conduct — how impossible it was that I should have seemed otherwise. I am conscious that many acts of mine must have inevitably given rise to painful suspicions — suspicions which, indeed, upon one occasion, you very properly communicated to me. I have got two letters from a quarter which commands respect, containing information as to the course by which I may be enabled to prove the negative of all the crimes which even the most credulous suspicion could lay to my charge. I expected a third by this morning’s post, containing documents which will set the matter for ever at rest, but owing, no doubt, to some neglect, or, perhaps, to some difficulty in collecting the papers, some inevitable delay, it has not come to hand this morning, according to my expectation. I was finishing one to the very same quarter when you came in, and if a sound rousing be worth anything, I think I shall have a special messenger before two days have passed. I have been anxiously considering with myself, as to whether I had better imperfectly clear up your doubts by submitting to your inspection the two letters which I have already received, or wait till I can triumphantly vindicate myself by the production of the documents which I have already mentioned, and I have, I think, not unnaturally decided upon the latter course. However, there is a person in the next room whose testimony is not without its value excuse me for one moment.’

  So saying, he arose and went to the door of a closet which opened from the study; this he unlocked, and half opening the door, he said, ‘It is only I,’ and then slipped into the room and carefully closed and locked the door behind him.

  I immediately heard his voice in animated conversation. My curiosity upon the subject of the letter was naturally great, so, smothering any little scruples which I might have felt, I resolved to look at the address of the letter which lay, as my husband had left it, with its face upon the table. I accordingly drew it over to me and turned up the direction.

  For two or three moments I could scarce believe my eyes, but there could be no mistake — in large characters were traced the words, ‘To the Archangel Gabriel in Heaven.’

  I had scarcely returned the letter to its original position, and in some degree recovered the shock which this unequivocal proof of insanity produced, when the closet door was unlocked, and Lord Glenfallen reentered the study, carefully closing and locking the door again upon the outside.

  ‘Whom have you there?’ inquired I, making a strong effort to appear calm.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said he, musingly, ‘you might have some objection to seeing her, at least for a time.’

  ‘Who is it?’ repeated I.

  ‘Why,’ said he, ‘I see no use in hiding it — the blind Dutchwoman. I have been with her the whole morning. She is very anxious to get out of that closet; but you know she is odd, she is scarcely to be trusted.’

  A heavy gust of wind shook the door at this moment with a sound as if something more substantial were pushing against it.

  ‘Ha, ha, ha! — do you hear her?’ said he, with an obstreperous burst of laughter.

  The wind died away in a long howl, and Lord Glenfallen, suddenly checking his merriment, shrugged his shoulders, and muttered:

  ‘Poor devil, she has been hardly used.’

  ‘We had better not tease her at present with questions,’ said I, in as unconcerned a tone as I could assume, although I felt every moment as if I should faint.

  ‘Humph! may be so,’ said he. ‘Well, come back in an hour or two, or when you please, and you will find us here.’

  He again unlocked the door, and entered with the same precautions which he had adopted before, locking the door upon the inside; and as I hurried from the room, I heard his voice again exerted as if in eager parley.

  I can hardly describe my emotions; my hopes had been raised to the highest, and now, in an instant, all was gone — the dreadful consummation was accomplished — the fearful retribution had fallen upon the guilty man — the mind was destroyed — the power to repent was gone.

  The agony of the hours which followed what I would still call my
AWFUL interview with Lord Glenfallen, I cannot describe; my solitude was, however, broken in upon by Martha, who came to inform me of the arrival of a gentleman, who expected me in the parlour.

  I accordingly descended, and, to my great joy, found my father seated by the fire.

  This expedition upon his part was easily accounted for: my communications had touched the honour of the family. I speedily informed him of the dreadful malady which had fallen upon the wretched man.

  My father suggested the necessity of placing some person to watch him, to prevent his injuring himself or others.

  I rang the bell, and desired that one Edward Cooke, an attached servant of the family, should be sent to me.

  I told him distinctly and briefly the nature of the service required of him, and, attended by him, my father and I proceeded at once to the study. The door of the inner room was still closed, and everything in the outer chamber remained in the same order in which I had left it.

  We then advanced to the closet-door, at which we knocked, but without receiving any answer.

  We next tried to open the door, but in vain — it was locked upon the inside. We knocked more loudly, but in vain.

  Seriously alarmed, I desired the servant to force the door, which was, after several violent efforts, accomplished, and we entered the closet.

  Lord Glenfallen was lying on his face upon a sofa.

  ‘Hush!’ said I, ‘he is asleep.’ We paused for a moment.

  ‘He is too still for that,’ said my father.

  We all of us felt a strong reluctance to approach the figure.

  ‘Edward,’ said I, ‘try whether your master sleeps.’

  The servant approached the sofa where Lord Glenfallen lay. He leant his ear towards the head of the recumbent figure, to ascertain whether the sound of breathing was audible. He turned towards us, and said: