asked him of his errand, he raised his right arm, and I saw that the
hand was wanting, being taken off at the wrist. I marvelled
exceedingly at this strange apparition; but as I was a-going to
question him thereon I awoke. I know not why, but the vision sorely
troubled me, especially when again going to sleep, for it was repeated
thrice."
"It's a riddle," said Bridget, "and one with a heavy meaning in it,
too, if we could find it out."
"Verily, I think so," said Ellen; "for the impress doth not pass away
like that from ordinary dreams; but rests with a deep and solemn power
upon my spirit, such as I can neither throw off nor patiently endure."
"I'll unriddle it for you, or go a pilgrimage to our Lady at Loretto,"
said Bridget, determined not to be behindhand in her curiosity. So she
set her woman's wits immediately to work; yet she saw her mistress
daily losing strength, and no clue was obtained by which to know the
interpretation of the vision. She consulted her confessor; but he was
equally at a loss with herself, and knew not the nature of the dream,
nor its meaning.
One day Mistress Bridget brought in a tall beggar woman, dumb, or
pretendedly so, and apparently deaf. She made many signs that the gift
of foreknowledge was in her possession, though she seemed herself to
have profited little by so dangerous an endowment. Ellen, being
persuaded by her maid, craved a specimen of this wonderful art. The
hag, a smoke-dried, dirty-looking beldame, with a patch over one eye,
and an idiotic expression of face, began to mutter and make an odd
noise at the sight of the sick lady. She took a piece of chalk from
her handkerchief, and began her work of divination. First she drew a
circle on the floor, as a boundary or frame, and within it she put
many uncouth and crabbed signs; but their meaning was perfectly
unintelligible. Under this she sketched something like unto a sword,
then a hideous figure was attached to it, with a soldier's cap on his
head. Before him was a heart, that seemed to hang, as it were, on the
point of this long sword; which when Ellen saw she changed colour, but
attempted to smile; yet she only betrayed her agitation. The dumb
operator drew one hand across her own breast, and with the other
pointed to the lady; which appeared to Ellen as though intimating that
a soldier had won her heart, and that this was the true cause of her
illness. Such an interpretation, perchance, was but the conscious
monitor speaking from within, as it invested this unmeaning
hieroglyphic with the hue and likeness of its own fancies. But more
marvellous still was the subsequent proceeding. Having revealed the
cause, it seemed as though she were about to point out, obscurely as
before, the method and means of cure. When she had drawn the long
unshapely representation of a cloak, above it was placed something
like unto a human head, without helm or other covering; and to this
figure two arms were added; one having a huge hand, displayed proper,
as the heralds say, the other arm entirely destitute of this useful
appendage. Ellen at once remembered her dream, and watched the process
even with more interest than before.
The hand which should have been attached to the wrist was now drawn
distinct from the rest, as though grasping a heart wounded by the
sword; and doubtless the interpretation, according to Bridget's
opinion, was, that the application of a hand, which had been severed
from the body, would alone cure the disease under which she pined. The
dumb prophetess did not communicate further on the subject; and after
having received her bounty, she departed.
"How very strange!" said Ellen.
"Marvellous enough," said the maid; "but St Bridget hath doubtless
sent her to your help. Nay, peradventure, it was St Bridget herself!
Save us, what a kind, good creature she must be!"
Here she crossed herself with great fervour, forgetting that even a
saint among womankind would hardly feign herself dumb.
"There is some mystery about this hand," thought Ellen; but where to
seek for a solution was a mystery of equal magnitude with the rest.
Bridget was sure, from the disclosures already vouchsafed, that the
needful directions would not be withheld.
Ellen felt restless and disturbed for a while after this event; but
her sensations were again reverting to their ordinary channel when one
morning she awoke in a fearful trepidation. She said that the figure
of a human hand was visible, in her slumbers; that it led the way,
pointing to an old house like a fortified mansion, with a moat and
gatehouse before the main entrance. As she followed, the hand seemed
to twine its fingers about her heart, and for that time she felt
relieved of her pain. So vividly was the scene impressed upon her
imagination that she felt assured she should recognise the building
again, and especially the interior, where, in a stately chamber, the
miraculous cure was performed. Bridget rubbed her hands, and capered
about for joy.
"The name of St Bridget be praised!" said she, and vowed twenty things
in a breath; but the principal of these was an embroidered petticoat,
which vow she expected her mistress would enable her to fulfil.
Indeed, she had long set her mind upon this lustrous piece of attire,
and was waiting, somewhat impatiently, the time when it should be
allotted to her. So audibly had she made her vow that Ellen was
reminded of her pertinacity in still hoarding this precious and
coveted piece of finery, which Bridget looked upon as an unwarrantable
detention of her perquisites.
The cunning maid having obtained the garment for her patron saint,
what harm was there in wearing it, a while at least, for her sake?
Affairs went on for a little time in this dubious state; but the
continued and increasing illness of Ellen made it expedient that a
change of air should be attempted, and the journey accomplished by
short and easy travel. The family coach was brought out, and Mistress
Bridget, invested with the dignities of her office, went forth as
attendant of the body, and principal conductor of stores and packages.
Journeying southwards at a slow pace, pausing to take a look where
there was any object worth the attention, they came one afternoon,
about the fourth day from their departure, to Wigan. When they had
journeyed thence a mile or so, as they were passing down a jolting
road, Bridget, whose curious eye was ever on the look-out, suddenly
exclaimed, at the same time pointing through the window--
"I declare if there is not the dummy again yonder!"
Ellen beheld the dumb sibyl, whose predictions were not forgotten.
Bridget, by her looks, seemed to ask leave to stop the carriage and
hold another conference with the woman; and Ellen, whom illness had
rendered somewhat passive in such matters, did not make any
opposition. Having accosted this walking oracle, Bridget curtsied with
great reverence, peradventure fancying that St Bridget herself might
be again embodied before her; but the beldame went straight to the
carriage, addressing herself to the invalid within by pointing to her
breast, and making divers motions of the like signification, which
were not easy to be understood, even by the party for whom they were
intended. The prophetess seemed fully to comprehend that her symbolic
representations were unintelligible, and no fitting place being at
hand whereon they could be readily portrayed, she strove with the
greater vehemence to explain her meaning. There appeared a more than
ordinary anxiety on her part to communicate something of importance;
and the travellers looked as though fully aware of it. Her most
unequivocal signs, however, were to this purport--that they should not
proceed farther. Ellen, impelled by fear and curiosity, spoke aloud--
"Surely we are not to remain here at the beck of this woman!"
The one-eyed sibyl nodded an affirmative. This, at any rate, helped
them to an easier mode of communication, finding that she was not
deaf, as they had hitherto supposed.
"And whither shall we proceed?"
The woman here pointed to a narrow lane on the right of the main road
they were pursuing.
"Truly that seems but an indifferent path. Wherefore should we turn in
thither?" inquired Ellen.
Again the prophetess pointed to her own breast, and then at the bosom
of the invalid.
"By this token I understand that in so doing I am to expect some
relief."
Again nodded the officious intruder.
"But how shall that relief be obtained?"
The woman here lifted up her hand, again pointing towards the path by
which they should proceed.
"Go and see, I suppose thou wouldst say," said Ellen.
Another affirmatory nod was the answer.
"Wilt thou be our guide?"
The person addressed here darted a look at Ellen which seemed to
express pleasure at the request, if pleasure it might be called that
could irradiate such an aspect. She put out her hand for the customary
largess ere setting forward as their guide on the expedition. Some
difficulty now arose by reason of the straitness of the path; but
their dumb leader hastened up the lane with unusual speed, beckoning
that they should follow. From this signal it appeared that there was
sufficient room, and the postilion addressed himself to proceed by so
unusual a route.
They went forward for about a mile with little difficulty; but a
sudden turn, almost at right angles with their course, presented an
obstacle which the driver hesitated whether or not to encounter; but
it was impossible to return, though they were not without serious
fears that the weird woman might lead them on to a situation from
which they could not extricate themselves. Still she beckoned them
forward, until they emerged into another and a wider road, on which
they travelled without further impediment.
Ellen, whose eyes were abundantly occupied, suddenly assumed a look of
greater fixedness and intensity. For a while she seemed nearly
speechless with amazement. At length she cried--
"'Tis there!--There!"
Bridget looked forth, but saw nothing worthy of remark save an old
gatehouse over a dark lazy moat, secured by heavy wooden doors.
This gatehouse was apparently the entrance to a court or quadrangle,
enclosed by buildings of wood and plaster of the like antiquity. Their
guide stood on the bridge, as though to intimate that their wanderings
would here terminate.
"I have seen it before," said Ellen, with great solemnity and emotion.
Bridget perhaps fancied her mistress's thoughts were wandering
strangely, and was just going to recommend rest and a little of the
medicine she carried, when Ellen again spoke, as though sensible of
some incoherency in her remark:--"In my dreams, Bridget."
"St Bridget and the Virgin be praised! Is this the house you saw
when"----
"The very same. I should know it again; nor should I forget it if I
were to live to the age of the patriarchs."
"It's an evident answer to my prayers," said Bridget; and here the
devout enthusiast began to recite internally some holy ejaculations,
which, if they did not possess any positive efficacy, were at least
serviceable in allaying the excitement under which she laboured.
Ellen determined to alight and witness the issue of the adventure; so
in due time these forlorn damsels were seen advancing over the bridge
unto this enchanted castle.
The beldame knocked loudly at the gate, and immediately she sprang
back; but when the travellers again looked round she was gone!
Now were they in a precious dilemma. Two females before a stranger's
gate; the warder a-coming, when their business would of necessity be
demanded. A tread, every footstep of which might have been passing
over them, was close at hand. The bolts shrieked; the gate shook, and
a curious face peeped forth to inquire their errand. Bridget, whose
ready tongue rarely refused its office, replied--
"Is there a Catholic priest hereabout? for we would fain have a word
with one of that persuasion."
The grim warder smiled.
"Ye have not far to go for such an one," said he; "but ye be far-off
comers, I reckon, or ye would have known Bryn Hall belike, the
dwelling-place of the noble house of Gerard, that hath never been
without a priest and an altar therein."
He threw the gate wide open, and invited them to follow; after which
he led them through a clumsily-ornamented porch into the great hall,
at the end of which was a low gallery, supported by pillars and
pilasters richly and profusely carved. From these arches were sprung,
and a flight of stairs at one end led to the upper chambers.
Their guide preceded them into a small wainscoted room, fitted up as a
study, or perhaps an oratory in those days. A wooden crucifix, with a
representation of the Saviour carved in ivory, was placed in a recess,
occasionally covered by a green curtain. Shelves laden with books
occupied the farther end of the room, and writing materials were laid
upon an oak trestle or table, before which sat a tall white-haired
personage in a suit of sables, to whose further protection the porter
left his charge.
Ellen had suffered herself to be led passive hitherto by her maid; but
when she saw that they were now fairly committed to the disposal of
the priest, for so he appeared, she felt uneasy and anxious to
depart. The room and the whole scene were vividly brought to her
recollection; for she fancied that, at one time or another, she had
been present in a similar place.
Bridget curtsied to the holy father, who, doubting not that either a
case of conscience or a need-be for confession brought these strangers
to his presence, began the usual interrogatories.
"Here is a sick person, most reverent sir, who would have the benefit
of your prayers," said Bridget. The pale and wasting form that was by
her side sufficiently corroborated this reply.
"Daughter, the prayers of the church are for the penitent and
believing; hast thou made shrift and a clear confession?"
Bridget was prepared for this question.
"She is not of the faith; but, peradventure, if aid be vouchsafed, she
shall be reclaimed."
"If she have faith, I will cure her malady. What sayest thou?" He
fixed his clear grey eye upon her, and Ellen felt as though some charm
were already at work, and a strange tingling went through her frame.
She stammered out something like an assent, when the priest carefully
proceeded to unlock a little cabinet, inlaid with ivory and gold, from
which he took out a white silk bag that diffused a grateful perfume
through the chamber. He offered up a prayer before he unloosed the
strings; after which, with great formality and reverence, he drew
forth a human hand, dried and preserved, apparently by some mysterious
process, in all its substance and proportions. Ellen was dumb with
astonishment. Bridget could with difficulty refrain from falling on
her knees before this holy relic; and her delight would easily have
run over in some form of religious extravagance had it been suffered
to have free vent. To this relic, doubtless, had the predictions
referred: and she doubted not its power and efficacy.
"This rare and priceless thing," said the priest, "was once the right
hand of an English Martyr, Father Arrowsmith by name, put to death for
his holy profession. In consideration whereof, it is permitted, by the
will of the Supreme, that an honourable testimony be rendered to his
fidelity by the miracles that it doth and shall work to the end of
time. Rub it thrice on the part affected, and mark the result. If thou
receive it with humility and faith, trusting in Heaven, from whence
alone the healing virtue doth flow--these holy relics being, as it
were, but the appointed channels and conduits of His mercy--thou shall
assuredly be healed."
But Ellen was at some loss to know the precise situation of her
complaint, until she recollected the picture drawn by the dumb
fortune-teller, who described the heart alone as touched by this
miraculous hand. Yet, in what manner to make the application was a
matter of some difficulty.
Bridget again relieved her from the dilemma.
"If it so please your reverence, the seat of the complaint is not
visible. Suffer us to use it privately. We will not carry forth nor
misuse this precious keepsake; for I have been brought up in the
nurture of the Holy Church, and am well instructed in her ceremonies."
"I fear not for the harm that can happen to it, by reason of ungodly
or mischievous devices. If taken away, it would assuredly return
hither. Should the lady have some inward ailment, let her lay it as
near as may be to the part where she feels afflicted, and keep it
there for a space, until she findeth help."
The two visitors were then shown into another chamber; and here
Bridget, with great devoutness, and a firm faith in its efficiency,
placed the dead cold hand upon her mistress's heart. Ellen shuddered
when she felt its death-like touch. It was either fancy, or something
more, but she really felt as though a load were suddenly taken
away--an oppression, an incubus, that had continually brooded over
her, was gone. Surprised, and lightened of her burden, she returned
into the oratory, and gave back the relic, along with a liberal
offering into the hands of the priest. He said there would scarcely be
occasion for a repetition of the act, as it was evident the faith of
the recipient had wrought its proper work.
The day by this time being far spent, the priest begged permission to
introduce Ellen to Lady Gerard, who, he said, would be much gratified
to afford them entertainment, and, if need were, shelter for the
night. On hearing the name of her visitor, this kind lady would take
no denial, but expressed herself warmly on the folly and imprudence of
an invalid being exposed to the night air; and Ellen, delighted with
the change she felt, was all compliance and good-nature. After a
little hesitation, she suffered her first refusals to be overcome, and
the night wore on with pleasant converse. By little and little Lady
Gerard gained the confidence of Ellen, who seemed glad that she could
now speak freely on the subject nearest to her heart.
"It is marvellous enough," continued Lady Gerard, "that you should
have been conducted hither; for in this house there is a magic mirror,
which may, peradventure, disclose what shall relieve your anxiety. On
being looked into, after suitable preparations, it is said--for I
never tried the experiment--to show wondrous images within its charmed
surface; and like the glass of Cornelius Agrippa, of which we have a
tractate in the library chamber, will show what an absent person is
doing, if the party questioning be sincere, and anxious for his
welfare."
"I have long wished," said the blushing Ellen, "that I might see him
of whom our evening's discourse hath, perchance, been too much
conversant. I would not for worlds that he knew of my wish; but if I
could see him once more, and know the bearing of his thoughts toward
me, I could now, methinks, die content."
"This very night, then, let us consult the oracle," said Lady Gerard;
"but there must not be any witness to our exploit; so while away your
impatience as best you may until I have made the needful preparations
for our adventure."
Ellen could not repress her agitation when, after waiting alone for a
little time, her kind hostess came to summon her to the trial. She was
conducted up the staircase before mentioned, and through a corridor of
some length. The lamp grew pale and sickly in the cold wind of the
galleries they trod. Soon, however, they paused before a low door.
Lady Gerard pressed her finger on her lip, in token of silence. She
then blew out the light, and they were involved in total darkness.
Taking hold of Ellen's arm, which trembled excessively within her own,
she opened the door, but not a ray was yet visible. She was conducted
to a seat, and Lady Gerard whispered that she should be still.
Suddenly a light flashed forth on the opposite side, and Ellen saw
that it came from a huge antique mirror. A form, in male attire, was
there discernible. With a slow and melancholy pace he came forward,
and his lips seemed to move. It was--she could not be mistaken--it was
her cousin William! She thought he looked pale and agitated. He
carried a light which, as it glimmered on his features, showed that
they were the index of some internal and conflicting emotion. He sat
down. He passed one hand over his brow, and she thought that a sigh
laboured from his lips; but as she gazed the light grew dim, and ere
long the mirror, ceasing to be illuminated, again left them in total
darkness. A few minutes elapsed, which were swollen to long hours in
the estimation of the anxious and wondering inquirer. Her companion
again whispered that she should await the result in silence. Suddenly
the light flashed out as before, and she saw the dumb fortune teller
instead of the individual she expected. Her features were more writhen
and distorted than ever; and she seemed to mutter, it might be, some
malignant spell, some charm, the operation of which was for some
unknown and diabolical intent. Ellen shuddered as the weird woman took
a paper-roll from her bosom. Unfolding it, there was displayed the
figure of her lover, as she supposed, kneeling, while he held out his
hands toward the obdurate heart which he in vain attempted to grasp.
"I have wronged him," said Ellen, in a whisper to her companion; "if I
interpret these images aright, he now sighs for my favour; and--would
that we had known each other ere it was too late!"
"He knows now," said Lady Gerard; and immediately the dumb prophetess
was at her side. She threw off a disguise, ingeniously contrived, and
Ellen beheld her cousin William! The magic mirror was but an aperture
through the wainscot into another apartment, and the plot had been
arranged in the first place by Mrs Bridget, who had been confederate
with the handsome but somewhat haughty wooer, having for his torment a
maiden as haughty and intractable as himself. Thus two loving hearts
had nigh been broken for lack of an interpreter. William's absence had
taken deeper hold on Ellen's finely-tempered frame than was expected;
and it was with sorrow and alarm that he heard of her illness. His
distant relative, Lady Gerard, to whom he had retired for a season,
spake of the marvellous hand, which, he was sure, being a devout and
pious Catholic, would cure any disease incident to the human frame. It
was absolutely needful that a cure should be attempted, along with
some stratagem, to conquer the yet unbroken obstinacy in which, as
with a double panoply, Ellen had arrayed herself. The result of the
experiment has been shown. She was united to her cousin ere a few
months were old, and the "merrie spring" had melted in the warm lap of
summer.
THE LOST FARM;
OR, THE HAUNTED CASKET.
"And when of me his leave he tuik,
The tears they wat mine ee,
I gave tull him a parting luik,
'My benison gang wi' thee;
God speed thee weil, mine ain dear heart,
For gane is all my joy;
My heart is rent, sith we maun part,
My handsome Gilderoy.'
"Of Gilderoy sae 'fraid they were,
They bound him mickle strong,
Tull Edenburrow they led him thair,
And on a gallows hung.
They hung him high aboon the rest,
He was sae trim a boy;
Thair dyed the youth whom I lued best,
My handsome Gilderoy."