|The day, as previously stated, had been fine, but exceedingly sultry,
and the sunset portended thunder.
Just as those about to return to Ouselcroft were preparing for
departure, a heavy thunder-storm came on, and as there seemed every
likelihood of its continuance, they were easily induced to pass the
night at Brackley.
A messenger was immediately sent off to Mildred to prevent alarm,
and Captain Danvers undertook that Chetwynd should be put to no
inconvenience in regard to his toilette.
There was no difficulty about beds, for there was a superfluity at
Brackley. A large chamber was assigned to Chetwynd, containing an
antique canopied bedstead with twisted oak pillars, and heavy brocade
curtains, the splendour of which was somewhat dimmed by years. There
were a couple of old black cabinets in the room, and the dark oak panels
were hung with sombre tapestry, or adorned with portraits.
The only modern furniture was a card-table, set with two chairs in the
centre of the room, opposite the end of the bed. Candles were placed
upon the table, and a couple of packs of cards.
Very likely these preparations had been made by order of Captain
Danvers.
Chetwynd had heard there was a haunted room at Brackley, but it never
occurred to him that this was the identical apartment, and though
Captain Danvers was aware of its ghostly reputation, he thought it best
to say nothing about it.
He accompanied his friend to the room, having previously supplied him
with such articles as he might require for the night, and then pointing
to the table, said, “Shall we have a game at _écarté?_”
“No, thank you,” replied Chetwynd. “I've vowed never to touch cards
again.”
“Well, I won't tempt you to break your oath,” replied Danvers, laughing.
“Good night. I hope you'll sleep well.”
And he quitted the room.
Chetwynd sought his splendid couch, and though the thunder rattled
awfully overhead, and the lightning blazed, he speedily fell asleep.
How long he slumbered he could not tell, nor could he exactly say what
awoke him, but when he opened his eyes he perceived a light in the room.
At first he thought it must be the lightning, for he was certain he had
put out the bed-candle, but this illumination was continuous.
Looking up, to his great surprise, he perceived two elderly gentlemen
seated opposite each other at the card-table. The wax candles were
lighted, and the two strange personages were playing at _écarté_, or
some other game.
An unaccountable dread seized Chetwynd as he watched them, and he
wondered how they came to be there at that time of night. Perhaps they
might not be aware of his presence, so he thought he ought to apprise
them of it.
Raising himself on the pillow to examine them more narrowly, he
perceived that one of them was Sir Leycester Barfleur, and the
other--his own father!
Astounded and dismayed at this discovery, he felt utterly unable to
speak, and remained-gazing at them, while they continued their game.
At last, they threw down their cards, and got up.
Then Mr. Calverley, as it seemed, exclaimed, in an unearthly voice,
“I've won!”
Upon which Sir Leycester, in accents equally unearthly, replied, “Not
yet!”
Then they both looked towards the occupant of the bed, and the
expression of their countenance was so fearful that Chetwynd was unable
to endure it, and fell back insensible.
When he recovered--or, rather, when he awoke--he did not feel quite sure
that the supernatural appearance which he thought he had witnessed might
not have been a dream.
On examination, the candles did not appear to have been lighted, and
both packs of cards were untouched. This seemed to favour the idea that
it must have been a dream, but Chetwynd could not believe so. He felt
sure he had seen the two old men.
Captain Danvers was curious to learn how his friend had passed the
night, and owned that the room was said to be haunted.
Chetwynd made an evasive reply.
“I'll tell you a strange thing,” said Danvers. “My uncle, Sir Leycester,
once lost a large sum to your father in this room.”
“They have not yet finished the game,” said Chetwynd. “I saw them
playing during the night.”
IX. WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CAPTAIN DANVERS AND MRS. CALVERLEY IN THE
GARDEN.
|After the stormy night came a magnificent day.
Brackley looked so charming, that the guests were in no hurry to
depart. Captain Danvers took a stroll in the garden with Mrs. Calverley,
resolved that the interview should decide his fate. It was idle to think
any more of Mildred, who had behaved very heartlessly in refusing to
bid him adieu. His selection was made. He would offer his hand to the
beautiful and wealthy widow, who had given him every encouragement.
The bowling-green, though delightful, was rather too damp after the rain
of the previous night, and the benches were not yet dried, so they moved
on towards a shady walk, where the captain commenced:
“I hope you have quite forgiven me, my dear Mrs. Calverley?” he said. “I
can scarcely account for my folly, but I can assure you I am now quite
sensible of it, and will never again offend in the like manner. Indeed,
I will put it out of my power to do so, by binding myself indissolubly
to you.”
“Do you mean this as an offer?” she said.
“Certainly,” he replied. “What else can it mean?”
“Then I must have a little time for consideration. I cannot make up my
mind in a moment on such an important point.”
The captain's ardour was very much damped. He had flattered himself
he should be at once accepted. “But you don't reject me?” he said,
anxiously.
“No! you must remain on trial for a month. If I am quite satisfied with
your conduct during that interval, I may become yours.”
“Then it is not to be an engagement?” he cried. “Yes; I am quite willing
it should be an engagement--but not binding on either party.”
“Such an arrangement amounts to nothing,” he said. “If you love me well
enough to give me your hand, accept me now, and let the marriage be
fixed for some early day.”
“I cannot agree to that,” she replied. “We shall have to come to an
understanding on many points.”
“We are sure to do that,” he replied. “I agree to all beforehand.
You shall have your own way entirely. I shall be a very good-natured
husband.”
“I am not so sure of that,” she replied, with a slight laugh. “Men
who make promises of compliance beforehand, often turn out most
impracticable.”
“That won't hold good in my case.”
“Well, you sha'n't say that I take you in, for I announce that I mean to
retain entire possession of my own property.”
The captain could scarcely hide his confusion at this unexpected
intimation. However, he did not make any objection.
“In a word, my house will be conducted precisely as it is now,” pursued
Mrs. Calverley.
“That is just what I should like,” he rejoined. “Arrange it as
you please. I shall never interfere. Have we come to a distinct
understanding?”
“Yes; and if you retain these sentiments, we shall probably agree.”
“Are we not now agreed?”
“On the main points,” she replied. “But our engagement must be private
for the present. I have my reasons for the request.”
“I won't ask them, but comply. In all things you shall be obeyed.”
She smiled very graciously, if not every affectionately, and gave him
her hand, which he raised to his lips.
Her beautiful features underwent a slight change at that moment, and the
expression startled Captain Danvers so much that he almost repented the
step he had taken; but it was now too late to retreat.
“Though our engagement will be secret, you can come to Ouselcroft
whenever you please,” she said. “Only remember there must be no
renewal----”
“Fear nothing,” he replied. “There shall be no more of that.”
They then returned to the house, and on the way thither met Emmeline
and Chetwynd. The former smiled on seeing her cousin and Mrs. Calverley
together, but made no remark.
Later on, however, when an opportunity offered, she said to Captain
Danvers, “All is settled, I perceive, between you and the rich widow.”
“What makes you think so?” he asked.
“Both of you look as if you already repented,” she replied. “But I hope
you may be happy.”
Captain Danvers rode back with them to Ouselcroft; but he did not stay,
nor did he see Mildred.
However, he agreed to return in a few days.
Emmeline was distressed to find her friend looking less cheerful than
usual. Indeed, she appeared decidedly low-spirited.
“I hope you are not troubling yourself about my unworthy cousin
Charles,” said Emmeline.
“I wish I could cease to think of him,” replied Mildred, with a sigh. “I
have tried, but in vain.”
“You must think of him no more, dearest girl,” said Emmeline.
Mildred looked at her anxiously.
“What is it? Don't keep me in suspense!” she cried.
“He is engaged to Mrs. Calverley,” replied Emmeline.
Mildred became white as death.
“Engaged to _her!_” she ejaculated. “Oh, this is too much!”
She would have fallen if Emmeline had not caught her.
Fortunately, this occurrence took place in Mildred's own room, and,
restoratives being at hand, it was not necessary to summon assistance.