ANOTHER MYSTERY AT THE HIDDEN HOUSE.
"Hark! what a shriek was that of fear intense,
Of horror and amazement!
What fearful struggle to the door and thence
With mazy doubles to the grated casement!"
An hour after the departure of Capitola, Colonel Le Noir returned to
the Hidden House and learned from his man David that upon the preceding
evening a young girl of whose name he was ignorant had sought shelter
from the storm and passed the night at the mansion.
Now, Colonel Le Noir was extremely jealous of receiving strangers under
his roof, never, during his short stay at the Hidden House, going out
into company, lest he should be obliged in return to entertain
visitors. And when he learned that a strange girl had spent the night
beneath his roof, he frowningly directed that Dorcas should be sent to
him.
When his morose manager made her appearance he harshly demanded the
name of the young woman she had dared to receive beneath his roof.
Now, whether there is any truth in the theory of magnetism or not, it
is certain that Dorcas Knight--stern, harsh, resolute woman that she
was toward all others--became as submissive as a child in the presence
of Colonel Le Noir.
At his command she gave him all the information he required, not even
withholding the fact of Capitola's strange story of having seen the
apparition of the pale-faced lady in her chamber, together with the
subsequent discovery of the loss of her ring.
Colonel Le Noir sternly reprimanded his domestic manager for her
neglect of his orders and dismissed her from his presence.
The remainder of the day was passed by him in moody thought. That
evening he summoned his son to a private conference in the parlor--an
event that happily delivered poor Clara Day from their presence at her
fireside.
That night Clara, dreading lest at the end of their interview they
might return to her society, retired early to her chamber where she sat
reading until a late hour, when she went to bed and found transient
forgetfulness of trouble in sleep.
She did not know how long she had slept when she was suddenly and
terribly awakened by a woman's shriek sounding from the room
immediately overhead, in which, upon the night previous, Capitola had
slept.
Starting up in bed, Clara listened.
The shriek was repeated--prolonged and piercing--and was accompanied by
a muffled sound of struggling that shook the ceiling overhead.
Instinctively springing from her bed, Clara threw on her dressing-gown
and flew to the door; but just as she turned the latch to open it she
heard a bolt slipped on the outside and found herself a prisoner in her
own chamber.
Appalled, she stood and listened.
Presently there came a sound of footsteps on the stairs and a heavy
muffled noise as of some dead weight being dragged down the staircase
and along the passage. Then she heard the hall door cautiously opened
and shut. And, finally, she distinguished the sound of wheels rolling
away from the house.
Unable longer to restrain herself, she rapped and beat upon her own
door, crying aloud for deliverance.
Presently the bolt was withdrawn, the door jerked open and Dorcas
Knight, with a face of horror, stood before her.
"What is the matter! Who was that screaming? In the name of mercy, what
has happened?" cried Clara, shrinking in abhorrence from the ghastly
woman.
"Hush! it is nothing! There were two tomcats screaming and fighting in
the attic, and they fought all the way downstairs, rolling over and
over each other. I've just turned them out," faltered the woman,
shivering as with an ague fit.
"What--what was that--that went away in the carriage?" asked Clara
shuddering.
"The colonel, gone to meet the early stage at Tip-Top, to take him to
Washington. He would have taken leave of you last night, but when he
came to your parlor you had left it."
"But--but--there is blood upon your hand, Dorcas Knight!" cried Clara,
shaking with horror.
"I--I know; the cats scratched me as I put them out," stammered the
stern woman, trembling almost as much as Clara herself.
These answers failed to satisfy the young girl, who shrank in terror
and loathing from that woman's presence, and sought the privacy of her
own chamber, murmuring:
"What has happened? What has been done? Oh, heaven! oh, heaven! have
mercy on us! some dreadful deed has been done in this house to-night!"
There was no more sleep for Clara. She heard the clock strike every
hour from one to six in the morning, when she arose and dressed herself
and went from her room, expecting to see upon the floor and walls and
upon the faces of the household signs of some dreadful tragedy enacted
upon the previous night.
But all things were as usual--the same dark, gloomy and neglected
magnificence about the rooms and passages, the same reserved, sullen
and silent aspect about the persons.
Dorcas Knight presided as usual at the head of the breakfast table, and
Craven Le Noir at the foot. Clara sat in her accustomed seat at the
side, midway between them.
Clara shuddered in taking her cup of coffee from the hand of Dorcas,
and declined the wing of fowl that Craven Le Noir would have put upon
her plate.
Not a word was said upon the subject of the mystery of the preceding
night until Craven Le Noir, without venturing to meet the eyes of the
young girl, said:
"You look very pale, Clara."
"Miss Day was frightened by the cats last night," said Dorcas.
Clara answered never a word. The ridiculous story essayed to be palmed
off upon her credulity in explanation of the night's mystery had not
gained an instant's belief.
She knew that the cry that had startled her from sleep had burst in
strong agony from human lips!
That the helpless weight she had heard dragged down the stairs and
along the whole length of the passage was some dead or insensible human
form!
That the blood she had seen upon the hand of Dorcas Knight was--oh,
heaven! her mind shrank back appalled with horror at the thought which
she dare not entertain! She could only shudder, pray and trust in God.