odd; he was low in stature; and this defect was enhanced by a distortion
of the spine, so considerable as almost to amount to a hunch; his
features, too, had all that sharpness and sickliness of hue which
generally accompany deformity; he wore his hair, which was black as
soot, in heavy neglected ringlets about his shoulders, and always
without powder--a peculiarity in those days. There was something
unpleasant, too, in the circumstance that he never raised his eyes to
meet those of another; this fact was often cited as a proof of his being
something not quite right, and said to result not from the timidity
which is supposed in most cases to induce this habit, but from a
consciousness that his eye possessed a power which, if exhibited, would
betray a supernatural origin. Once, and once only, had he violated this
sinister observance: it was on the occasion of Sir Robert's hopes having
been most bitterly disappointed; his lady, after a severe and dangerous
confinement, gave birth to a dead child. Immediately after the
intelligence had been made known, a servant, having upon some business
passed outside the gate of the castle-yard, was met by Jacque, who,
contrary to his wont, accosted him, observing, 'So, after all the
pother, the son and heir is still-born.' This remark was accompanied
by a chuckling laugh, the only approach to merriment which he was ever
known to exhibit. The servant, who was really disappointed, having hoped
for holiday times, feasting and debauchery with impunity during the
rejoicings which would have accompanied a christening, turned tartly
upon the little valet, telling him that he should let Sir Robert know
how he had received the tidings which should have filled any faithful
servant with sorrow; and having once broken the ice, he was proceeding
with increasing fluency, when his harangue was cut short and his
temerity punished, by the little man raising his head and treating him
to a scowl so fearful, half-demoniac, half-insane, that it haunted his
imagination in nightmares and nervous tremors for months after.
To this man Lady Ardagh had, at first sight, conceived an antipathy
amounting to horror, a mixture of loathing and dread so very powerful
that she had made it a particular and urgent request to Sir Robert, that
he would dismiss him, offering herself, from that property which Sir
Robert had by the marriage settlements left at her own disposal, to
provide handsomely for him, provided only she might be relieved from
the continual anxiety and discomfort which the fear of encountering him
induced.
Sir Robert, however, would not hear of it; the request seemed at first
to agitate and distress him; but when still urged in defiance of his
peremptory refusal, he burst into a violent fit of fury; he spoke
darkly of great sacrifices which he had made, and threatened that if the
request were at any time renewed he would leave both her and the country
for ever. This was, however, a solitary instance of violence; his
general conduct towards Lady Ardagh, though at no time uxorious, was
certainly kind and respectful, and he was more than repaid in the
fervent attachment which she bore him in return.
Some short time after this strange interview between Sir Robert and
Lady Ardagh; one night after the family had retired to bed, and when
everything had been quiet for some time, the bell of Sir Robert's
dressing-room rang suddenly and violently; the ringing was repeated
again and again at still shorter intervals, and with increasing
violence, as if the person who pulled the bell was agitated by the
presence of some terrifying and imminent danger. A servant named Donovan
was the first to answer it; he threw on his clothes, and hurried to the
room.
Sir Robert had selected for his private room an apartment remote from
the bed-chambers of the castle, most of which lay in the more modern
parts of the mansion, and secured at its entrance by a double door. As
the servant opened the first of these, Sir Robert's bell again sounded
with a longer and louder peal; the inner door resisted his efforts to
open it; but after a few violent struggles, not having been perfectly
secured, or owing to the inadequacy of the bolt itself, it gave way, and
the servant rushed into the apartment, advancing several paces before
he could recover himself. As he entered, he heard Sir Robert's
voice exclaiming loudly--'Wait without, do not come in yet;' but the
prohibition came too late. Near a low truckle-bed, upon which Sir Robert
sometimes slept, for he was a whimsical man, in a large armchair, sat,
or rather lounged, the form of the valet Jacque, his arms folded, and
his heels stretched forward on the floor, so as fully to exhibit his
misshapen legs, his head thrown back, and his eyes fixed upon his master
with a look of indescribable defiance and derision, while, as if to add
to the strange insolence of his attitude and expression, he had placed
upon his head the black cloth cap which it was his habit to wear.
Sir Robert was standing before him, at the distance of several yards,
in a posture expressive of despair, terror, and what might be called an
agony of humility. He waved his hand twice or thrice, as if to dismiss
the servant, who, however, remained fixed on the spot where he had first
stood; and then, as if forgetting everything but the agony within him,
he pressed his clenched hands on his cold damp brow, and dashed away the
heavy drops that gathered chill and thickly there.
Jacque broke the silence.
'Donovan,' said he, 'shake up that drone and drunkard, Carlton; tell
him that his master directs that the travelling carriage shall be at the
door within half-an-hour.'
The servant paused, as if in doubt as to what he should do; but his
scruples were resolved by Sir Robert's saying hurriedly, 'Go--go, do
whatever he directs; his commands are mine; tell Carlton the same.'
The servant hurried to obey, and in about half-an-hour the carriage
was at the door, and Jacque, having directed the coachman to drive to
B----n, a small town at about the distance of twelve miles--the nearest
point, however, at which post-horses could be obtained--stepped into the
vehicle, which accordingly quitted the castle immediately.
Although it was a fine moonlight night, the carriage made its way but
very slowly, and after the lapse of two hours the travellers had arrived
at a point about eight miles from the castle, at which the road strikes
through a desolate and heathy flat, sloping up distantly at either side
into bleak undulatory hills, in whose monotonous sweep the imagination
beholds the heaving of some dark sluggish sea, arrested in its first
commotion by some preternatural power. It is a gloomy and divested spot;
there is neither tree nor habitation near it; its monotony is unbroken,
except by here and there the grey front of a rock peering above the
heath, and the effect is rendered yet more dreary and spectral by the
exaggerated and misty shadows which the moon casts along the sloping
sides of the hills.
When they had gained about the centre of this tract, Carlton, the
coachman, was surprised to see a figure standing at some distance in
advance, immediately beside the road, and still more so when, on coming
up, he observed that it was no other than Jacque whom he believed to be
at that moment quietly seated in the carriage; the coachman drew up, and
nodding to him, the little valet exclaimed:
'Carlton, I have got the start of you; the roads are heavy, so I shall
even take care of myself the rest of the way. Do you make your way back
as best you can, and I shall follow my own nose.'
So saying, he chucked a purse into the lap of the coachman, and turning
off at a right angle with the road, he began to move rapidly away in the
direction of the dark ridge that lowered in the distance.
The servant watched him until he was lost in the shadowy haze of night;
and neither he nor any of the inmates of the castle saw Jacque again.
His disappearance, as might have been expected, did not cause any regret
among the servants and dependants at the castle; and Lady Ardagh did
not attempt to conceal her delight; but with Sir Robert matters were
different, for two or three days subsequent to this event he confined
himself to his room, and when he did return to his ordinary occupations,
it was with a gloomy indifference, which showed that he did so more
from habit than from any interest he felt in them. He appeared from that
moment unaccountably and strikingly changed, and thenceforward walked
through life as a thing from which he could derive neither profit nor
pleasure. His temper, however, so far from growing wayward or morose,
became, though gloomy, very--almost unnaturally--placid and cold; but
his spirits totally failed, and he grew silent and abstracted.
These sombre habits of mind, as might have been anticipated, very
materially affected the gay house-keeping of the castle; and the dark
and melancholy spirit of its master seemed to have communicated itself
to the very domestics, almost to the very walls of the mansion.
Several years rolled on in this way, and the sounds of mirth and wassail
had long been strangers to the castle, when Sir Robert requested his
lady, to her great astonishment, to invite some twenty or thirty of
their friends to spend the Christmas, which was fast approaching, at
the castle. Lady Ardagh gladly complied, and her sister Mary, who still
continued unmarried, and Lady D---- were of course included in the
invitations. Lady Ardagh had requested her sisters to set forward as
early as possible, in order that she might enjoy a little of their
society before the arrival of the other guests; and in compliance with
this request they left Dublin almost immediately upon receiving the
invitation, a little more than a week before the arrival of the festival
which was to be the period at which the whole party were to muster.
For expedition's sake it was arranged that they should post, while Lady
D----'s groom was to follow with her horses, she taking with herself
her own maid and one male servant. They left the city when the day was
considerably spent, and consequently made but three stages in the first
day; upon the second, at about eight in the evening, they had reached
the town of K----k, distant about fifteen miles from Castle Ardagh.
Here, owing to Miss F----d's great fatigue, she having been for a
considerable time in a very delicate state of health, it was determined
to put up for the night. They, accordingly, took possession of the best
sitting-room which the inn commanded, and Lady D----remained in it
to direct and urge the preparations for some refreshment, which the
fatigues of the day had rendered necessary, while her younger sister
retired to her bed-chamber to rest there for a little time, as the
parlour commanded no such luxury as a sofa.
Miss F----d was, as I have already stated, at this time in very delicate
health; and upon this occasion the exhaustion of fatigue, and the dreary
badness of the weather, combined to depress her spirits. Lady D----
had not been left long to herself, when the door communicating with the
passage was abruptly opened, and her sister Mary entered in a state of
great agitation; she sat down pale and trembling upon one of the chairs,
and it was not until a copious flood of tears had relieved her, that
she became sufficiently calm to relate the cause of her excitement and
distress. It was simply this. Almost immediately upon lying down upon
the bed she sank into a feverish and unrefreshing slumber; images of all
grotesque shapes and startling colours flitted before her sleeping fancy
with all the rapidity and variety of the changes in a kaleidoscope. At
length, as she described it, a mist seemed to interpose itself between
her sight and the ever-shifting scenery which sported before her
imagination, and out of this cloudy shadow gradually emerged a figure
whose back seemed turned towards the sleeper; it was that of a lady,
who, in perfect silence, was expressing as far as pantomimic gesture
could, by wringing her hands, and throwing her head from side to side,
in the manner of one who is exhausted by the over indulgence, by the
very sickness and impatience of grief; the extremity of misery. For
a long time she sought in vain to catch a glimpse of the face of the
apparition, who thus seemed to stir and live before her. But at length
the figure seemed to move with an air of authority, as if about to give
directions to some inferior, and in doing so, it turned its head so as
to display, with a ghastly distinctness, the features of Lady Ardagh,
pale as death, with her dark hair all dishevelled, and her eyes dim
and sunken with weeping. The revulsion of feeling which Miss
F----d experienced at this disclosure--for up to that point she had
contemplated the appearance rather with a sense of curiosity and of
interest, than of anything deeper--was so horrible, that the shock awoke
her perfectly. She sat up in the bed, and looked fearfully around the
room, which was imperfectly lighted by a single candle burning dimly, as
if she almost expected to see the reality of her dreadful vision lurking
in some corner of the chamber. Her fears were, however, verified, though
not in the way she expected; yet in a manner sufficiently horrible--for
she had hardly time to breathe and to collect her thoughts, when she
heard, or thought she heard, the voice of her sister, Lady Ardagh,
sometimes sobbing violently, and sometimes almost shrieking as if in
terror, and calling upon her and Lady D----, with the most imploring
earnestness of despair, for God's sake to lose no time in coming to her.
All this was so horribly distinct, that it seemed as if the mourner
was standing within a few yards of the spot where Miss F----d lay. She
sprang from the bed, and leaving the candle in the room behind her, she
made her way in the dark through the passage, the voice still following
her, until as she arrived at the door of the sitting-room it seemed to
die away in low sobbing.
As soon as Miss F----d was tolerably recovered, she declared her
determination to proceed directly, and without further loss of time,
to Castle Ardagh. It was not without much difficulty that Lady D----
at length prevailed upon her to consent to remain where they then were,
until morning should arrive, when it was to be expected that the young
lady would be much refreshed by at least remaining quiet for the night,
even though sleep were out of the question. Lady D---- was convinced,
from the nervous and feverish symptoms which her sister exhibited, that
she had already done too much, and was more than ever satisfied of the
necessity of prosecuting the journey no further upon that day. After
some time she persuaded her sister to return to her room, where she
remained with her until she had gone to bed, and appeared comparatively
composed. Lady D---- then returned to the parlour, and not finding
herself sleepy, she remained sitting by the fire. Her solitude was
a second time broken in upon, by the entrance of her sister, who now
appeared, if possible, more agitated than before. She said that Lady
D---- had not long left the room, when she was roused by a repetition of
the same wailing and lamentations, accompanied by the wildest and most
agonized supplications that no time should be lost in coming to Castle
Ardagh, and all in her sister's voice, and uttered at the same proximity
as before. This time the voice had followed her to the very door of the
sitting-room, and until she closed it, seemed to pour forth its cries
and sobs at the very threshold.
Miss F----d now most positively declared that nothing should prevent her
proceeding instantly to the castle, adding that if Lady D---- would not
accompany her, she would go on by herself. Superstitious feelings are at
all times more or less contagious, and the last century afforded a soil
much more congenial to their growth than the present. Lady D---- was so
far affected by her sister's terrors, that she became, at least, uneasy;
and seeing that her sister was immovably determined upon setting forward
immediately, she consented to accompany her forthwith. After a slight
delay, fresh horses were procured, and the two ladies and their
attendants renewed their journey, with strong injunctions to the driver
to quicken their rate of travelling as much as possible, and promises of
reward in case of his doing so.
Roads were then in much worse condition throughout the south, even than
they now are; and the fifteen miles which modern posting would have
passed in little more than an hour and a half, were not completed even
with every possible exertion in twice the time. Miss F----d had been
nervously restless during the journey. Her head had been constantly
out of the carriage window; and as they approached the entrance to the
castle demesne, which lay about a mile from the building, her anxiety
began to communicate itself to her sister. The postillion had just
dismounted, and was endeavouring to open the gate--at that time a
necessary trouble; for in the middle of the last century porter's lodges
were not common in the south of Ireland, and locks and keys almost
unknown. He had just succeeded in rolling back the heavy oaken gate so
as to admit the vehicle, when a mounted servant rode rapidly down the
avenue, and drawing up at the carriage, asked of the postillion who the
party were; and on hearing, he rode round to the carriage window and
handed in a note, which Lady D---- received. By the assistance of one
of the coach-lamps they succeeded in deciphering it. It was scrawled in
great agitation, and ran thus:
'MY DEAR SISTER--MY DEAR SISTERS BOTH,--In God's name lose no time, I am
frightened and miserable; I cannot explain all till you come. I am too
much terrified to write coherently; but understand me--hasten--do not
waste a minute. I am afraid you will come too late.
'E. A.'
The servant could tell nothing more than that the castle was in great
confusion, and that Lady Ardagh had been crying bitterly all the night.
Sir Robert was perfectly well. Altogether at a loss as to the cause
of Lady Ardagh's great distress, they urged their way up the steep and
broken avenue which wound through the crowding trees, whose wild and
grotesque branches, now left stripped and naked by the blasts of winter,
stretched drearily across the road. As the carriage drew up in the area
before the door, the anxiety of the ladies almost amounted to agony; and
scarcely waiting for the assistance of their attendant, they sprang to
the ground, and in an instant stood at the castle door. From within
were distinctly audible the sounds of lamentation and weeping, and
the suppressed hum of voices as if of those endeavouring to soothe the
mourner. The door was speedily opened, and when the ladies entered, the
first object which met their view was their sister, Lady Ardagh, sitting
on a form in the hall, weeping and wringing her hands in deep agony.
Beside her stood two old, withered crones, who were each endeavouring in
their own way to administer consolation, without even knowing or caring
what the subject of her grief might be.
Immediately on Lady Ardagh's seeing her sisters, she started up, fell on
their necks, and kissed them again and again without speaking, and then
taking them each by a hand, still weeping bitterly, she led them into
a small room adjoining the hall, in which burned a light, and, having
closed the door, she sat down between them. After thanking them for the
haste they had made, she proceeded to tell them, in words incoherent
from agitation, that Sir Robert had in private, and in the most solemn
manner, told her that he should die upon that night, and that he
had occupied himself during the evening in giving minute directions
respecting the arrangements of his funeral. Lady D---- here suggested
the possibility of his labouring under the hallucinations of a fever;
but to this Lady Ardagh quickly replied:
'Oh! no, no! Would to God I could think it. Oh! no, no! Wait till you
have seen him. There is a frightful calmness about all he says and
does; and his directions are all so clear, and his mind so perfectly
collected, it is impossible, quite impossible.' And she wept yet more
bitterly.
At that moment Sir Robert's voice was heard in issuing some directions,
as he came downstairs; and Lady Ardagh exclaimed, hurriedly:
'Go now and see him yourself. He is in the hall.'
Lady D---- accordingly went out into the hall, where Sir Robert met her;
and, saluting her with kind politeness, he said, after a pause:
'You are come upon a melancholy mission--the house is in great
confusion, and some of its inmates in considerable grief.' He took her
hand, and looking fixedly in her face, continued: 'I shall not live to
see to-morrow's sun shine.'
'You are ill, sir, I have no doubt,' replied she; 'but I am very
certain we shall see you much better to-morrow, and still better the day
following.'
'I am NOT ill, sister,' replied he. 'Feel my temples, they are cool; lay
your finger to my pulse, its throb is slow and temperate. I never was
more perfectly in health, and yet do I know that ere three hours be
past, I shall be no more.'
'Sir, sir,' said she, a good deal startled, but wishing to conceal
the impression which the calm solemnity of his manner had, in her own
despite, made upon her, 'Sir, you should not jest; you should not even
speak lightly upon such subjects. You trifle with what is sacred--you
are sporting with the best affections of your wife----'
'Stay, my good lady,' said he; 'if when this clock shall strike the hour
of three, I shall be anything but a helpless clod, then upbraid me. Pray
return now to your sister. Lady Ardagh is, indeed, much to be pitied;
but what is past cannot now be helped. I have now a few papers to
arrange, and some to destroy. I shall see you and Lady Ardagh before my
death; try to compose her--her sufferings distress me much; but what is
past cannot now be mended.'
Thus saying, he went upstairs, and Lady D---- returned to the room where
her sisters were sitting.
'Well,' exclaimed Lady Ardagh, as she re-entered, 'is it not so?--do you
still doubt?--do you think there is any hope?'
Lady D---- was silent.
'Oh! none, none, none,' continued she; 'I see, I see you are convinced.'
And she wrung her hands in bitter agony.
'My dear sister,' said Lady D----, 'there is, no doubt, something
strange in all that has appeared in this matter; but still I cannot but
hope that there may be something deceptive in all the apparent calmness
of Sir Robert. I still must believe that some latent fever has affected
his mind, or that, owing to the state of nervous depression into which
he has been sinking, some trivial occurrence has been converted, in
his disordered imagination, into an augury foreboding his immediate
dissolution.'
In such suggestions, unsatisfactory even to those who originated them,
and doubly so to her whom they were intended to comfort, more than two
hours passed; and Lady D---- was beginning to hope that the fated term
might elapse without the occurrence of any tragical event, when Sir
Robert entered the room. On coming in, he placed his finger with a
warning gesture upon his lips, as if to enjoin silence; and then having
successively pressed the hands of his two sisters-in-law, he stooped
sadly over the fainting form of his lady, and twice pressed her cold,
pale forehead, with his lips, and then passed silently out of the room.