Then I heard the clock in the hall strike one.
I heaved myself up to the sill with great labour, and I endeavoured to
thrust my short body through the window, when I heard feet on the
stairs, and next moment my wife's voice from below, at the foot of the
ladder. "Oh, Edward, Edward! please do not go out there again. It has
vanished. All at once. There is nothing there now to be seen."
I returned, touched the ladder tentatively with my feet, refastened the
window, and descended--perhaps inelegantly. I then went down with my
wife, and with her returned up the bank, to the spot where stood
clustered our servants.
They had seen nothing further; and although I remained on the spot
watching for half an hour, I also saw nothing more.
The maids were too frightened to go to bed, and so agreed to sit up in
the kitchen for the rest of the night by a good fire, and I gave them a
bottle of sherry to mull, and make themselves comfortable upon, and to
help them to recover their courage.
Although I went to bed, I could not sleep. I was completely baffled by
what I had seen. I could in no way explain what the object was and how
it had left the leads.
Next day I sent for the village mason and asked him to set a long ladder
against the well-head of the fall pipe, and examine the valley between
the gables. At the same time I would mount to the little window and
contemplate proceedings through that.
The man had to send for a ladder sufficiently long, and that occupied
some time. However, at length he had it planted, and then mounted. When
he approached the dormer window--
"Give me a hand," said I, "and haul me up; I would like to satisfy
myself with my own eyes that there is no other means of getting upon or
leaving the leads."
He took me under both shoulders and heaved me out, and I stood with him
in the broad lead gutter.
"There's no other opening whatever," said he, "and, Lord love you, sir,
I believe that what you saw was no more than this," and he pointed to a
branch of a noble cedar that grew hard by the west side of the house.
"I warrant, sir," said he, "that what you saw was this here bough as has
been carried by a storm and thrown here, and the wind last night swept
it up and down the leads."
"But was there any wind?" I asked. "I do not remember that there was."
"I can't say," said he; "before twelve o'clock I was fast asleep, and it
might have blown a gale and I hear nothing of it."
"I suppose there must have been some wind," said I, "and that I was too
surprised and the women too frightened to observe it," I laughed. "So
this marvellous spectral phenomenon receives a very prosaic and natural
explanation. Mason, throw down the bough and we will burn it to-night."
The branch was cast over the edge, and fell at the back of the house. I
left the leads, descended, and going out picked up the cedar branch,
brought it into the hall, summoned the servants, and said derisively:
"Here is an illustration of the way in which weak-minded women get
scared. Now we will burn the burglar or ghost that we saw. It turns out
to be nothing but this branch, blown up and down the leads by the wind."
"But, Edward," said my wife, "there was not a breath stirring."
"There must have been. Only where we were we were sheltered and did not
observe it. Aloft, it blew across the roofs, and formed an eddy that
caught the broken bough, lifted it, carried it first one way, then spun
it round and carried it the reverse way. In fact, the wind between the
two roofs assumed a spiral movement. I hope now you are all satisfied. I
am."
So the bough was burned, and our fears--I mean those of the
females--were allayed.
In the evening, after dinner, as I sat with my wife, she said to me:
"Half a bottle would have been enough, Edward. Indeed, I think half a
bottle would be too much; you should not give the girls a liking for
sherry, it may lead to bad results. If it had been elderberry wine, that
would have been different."
"But there is no elderberry wine in the house," I objected.
"Well, I hope no harm will come of it, but I greatly mistrust----"
"Please, sir, it is there again."
The parlourmaid, with a blanched face, was at the door.
"Nonsense," said I, "we burnt it."
"This comes of the sherry," observed my wife. "They will be seeing
ghosts every night."
"But, my dear, you saw it as well as myself!"
I rose, my wife followed, and we went to the landing as before, and,
sure enough, against the patch of moonlight cast through the window in
the roof, was the arm again, and then a flutter of shadows, as if cast
by garments.
"It was not the bough," said my wife. "If this had been seen immediately
after the sherry I should not have been surprised, but--as it is now it
is most extraordinary."
"I'll have this part of the house shut up," said I. Then I bade the
maids once more spend the night in the kitchen, "and make yourselves
lively on tea," I said--for I knew my wife would not allow another
bottle of sherry to be given them. "To-morrow your beds shall be moved
to the east wing."
"Beg pardon," said the cook, "I speaks in the name of all. We don't
think we can remain in the house, but must leave the situation."
"That comes of the tea," said I to my wife. "Now," to the cook, "as you
have had another fright, I will let you have a bottle of mulled port
to-night."
"Sir," said the cook, "if you can get rid of the ghost, we don't want to
leave so good a master. We withdraw the notice."
Next day I had all the servants' goods transferred to the east wing, and
rooms were fitted up for them to sleep in. As their portion of the house
was completely cut off from the west wing, the alarm of the domestics
died away.
A heavy, stormy rain came on next week, the first token of winter
misery.
I then found that, whether caused by the cedar bough, or by the nailed
boots of the mason, I cannot say, but the lead of the valley between the
roofs was torn, and water came in, streaming down the walls, and
threatening to severely damage the ceilings. I had to send for a
plumber as soon as the weather mended. At the same time I started for
town to see Mr. Framett. I had made up my mind that Fernwood was not
suitable, and by the terms of my agreement I might be off my bargain if
I gave notice the first month, and then my tenancy would be for the six
months only. I found the squire at his club.
"Ah!" said he, "I told you not to go there in November. No one likes
Fernwood in November; it is all right at other times."
"What do you mean?"
"There is no bother except in November."
"Why should there be bother, as you term it, then?"
Mr. Framett shrugged his shoulders. "How the deuce can I tell you? I've
never been a spirit, and all that sort of thing. Mme. Blavatsky might
possibly tell you. I can't. But it is a fact."
"What is a fact?"
"Why, that there is no apparition at any other time It is only in
November, when she met with a little misfortune. That is when she is
seen."
"Who is seen?"
"My aunt Eliza--I mean my great-aunt."
"You speak mysteries."
"I don't know much about it, and care less," said Mr. Framett, and
called for a lemon squash. "It was this: I had a great-aunt who was
deranged. The family kept it quiet, and did not send her to an asylum,
but fastened her in a room in the west wing. You see, that part of the
house is partially separated from the rest. I believe she was rather
shabbily treated, but she was difficult to manage, and tore her clothes
to pieces. Somehow, she succeeded in getting out on the roof, and would
race up and down there. They allowed her to do so, as by that means she
obtained fresh air. But one night in November she scrambled up and, I
believe, tumbled over. It was hushed up. Sorry you went there in
November. I should have liked you to buy the place. I am sick of it."
I did buy Fernwood. What decided me was this: the plumbers, in mending
the leads, with that ingenuity to do mischief which they sometimes
display, succeeded in setting fire to the roof, and the result was that
the west wing was burnt down. Happily, a wall so completely separated
the wing from the rest of the house, that the fire was arrested. The
wing was not rebuilt, and I, thinking that with the disappearance of the
leads I should be freed from the apparition that haunted them, purchased
Fernwood. I am happy to say we have been undisturbed since.