England, in the double capacity of secretary and physician. While I was
going through the hospitals of Paris I became acquainted with my
employer, whom I will call Sir James Collingham, under rather peculiar
circumstances, which have nothing to do with my story. He had an only
daughter, who was about sixteen when I first entered the family, and it
was on her account that Sir James wished to have some person with a
competent knowledge of medicine and physiology as one of his household.
Miss Collingham was subject to fits of a very peculiar kind, which threw
her into a sort of trance, lasting from half an hour to three or even
four days, according to the severity of the visitation. During these
attacks she occasionally displayed that extraordinary phenomenon which
goes by the name of clairvoyance. She saw scenes and persons who were
far distant, and described them with wonderful accuracy. Though quite
unconscious of all outward things, and apparently in a state of the
deepest insensibility, she would address remarks to those present which
bore reference to the thoughts then occupying their minds, though they
had given them no outward expression; and her remarks showed an insight
into matters which had perhaps been carefully kept secret, which might
truly be termed preternatural. Under these circumstances, Sir James was
very unwilling to bring her into contact with strangers when it could
possibly be avoided; and the events which first brought us together,
having also led to my treating Miss Collingham rather successfully in a
severe attack of her malady, induced her father to offer me a position
in his household which, as a young, friendless man, I was very willing
to accept.
"Collingham-Westmore was a very ancient house of great extent, and but
indifferently kept in repair. The country surrounding it is of great
natural beauty, thinly inhabited, and, especially at the time I speak
of, before railways had penetrated so far north, somewhat lonely and
inaccessible. A group of small houses clustered round the village church
of Westmorton, distant about three miles from the mansion of the
Collingham family; and a solitary posting-house, on what was then the
great north road, could be reached by a horseman in about an hour,
though the only practicable road for carriages was at least fifteen
miles from the highway to Collingham-Westmore. Wild and lovely in the
eyes of an admirer of nature were the hills and 'cloughs' among which I
pursued my botanical studies for many a long, silent summer day. My
occupations at the mansion--everybody called it the mansion, and I must
do so from force of habit, though it sounds rather like a house-agent's
advertisement--were few and light; the society was not particularly to
my taste, and the fine old library only attracted me on rainy days, of
which, truth to say, we had our full share.
"The Collingham family circle comprised a maiden aunt of Sir James, Miss
Patricia, a stern and awful specimen of the female sex in its fossil
state; her ward, Miss Henderson, who, having long passed her pupilage,
remained at Collingham-Westmore in the capacity of gouvernante and
companion to the young heiress; the heiress aforesaid, and myself. A
priest--did I say that the Collinghams still professed the old
religion?--came on Sundays and holydays to celebrate mass in the gloomy
old chapel; but neighbors there were none, and only about half-a-dozen
times during the four years I was an inmate of the mansion were
strangers introduced into the family party."
"How dreadfully dull it must have been!" exclaimed Amy sympathetically.
"It _was_ dull," answered the Doctor. "Even with my naturally cheerful
disposition, and the course of study with which I methodically filled up
all my leisure hours except those devoted to out-of-door exercise, the
gloom of the old mansion weighed upon me till I sometimes felt that I
must give up my situation at all risks, and return to the world, though
it were to struggle with poverty and friendlessness.
"There was no lack of dismal legends and superstitions connected with
the mansion, and every trifling circumstance that occurred was twisted
into an omen or presage, whether of good or evil, by the highly wrought
fancy of Miss Patricia. These absurdities, together with the past
grandeur of their house, and the former glories of their religion,
formed the staple subjects of conversation when the family was
assembled; and as I became more intimately acquainted with the state of
my patient, I felt convinced that the atmosphere of gloomy superstition
in which she had been reared had fostered, even if it had not altogether
been the cause of, her morbid mental and bodily condition.
"Among the many legends connected with the mansion, one seemed to have a
peculiar fascination for Miss Collingham, perhaps because it was the
most ghastly and repulsive. One wing of the house was held to be haunted
by the spirit of an ancestress of the family, who appeared in the shape
of a tall woman, with one hand folded in her white robe and the other
pointing upward. It was said, that in a room at the end of the haunted
wing this lady had been foully murdered by her jealous husband. The
window of the apartment overhung the wild wooded side of one of the
'cloughs' common in the country; and tradition averred that the victim
was thrown from this window by her murderer. As she caught hold of the
sill in a last frantic struggle for life, he severed her hand at the
wrist, and the mutilated body fell, with one fearful shriek, into the
depth below. Since then, a white shadowy form has forever been sitting
at the fatal window, or wandering along the deserted passages of the
haunted wing with the bleeding stump folded in her robe; and in moments
of danger or approaching death to any member of the Collingham family,
the same long, wild shriek rises slowly from the wooded cliff and peals
through the mansion; while to different individuals of the house, a pale
hand has now and then been visible, laid on themselves or some other of
the family, a never-failing omen of danger or death.
"I need not tell you how false and foolish all this dreary superstition
appeared to me; and I exerted all my powers of persuasion to induce Miss
Patricia to dwell less on these and similar themes in the presence of
Miss Collingham. But there seemed to be something in the very air of the
gloomy old mansion which fostered such delusions; for when I spoke to
Father O'Connor the priest, and urged on him the pernicious effect which
was thus produced on my patient's mind, I found him as fully imbued with
the spirit of credulity as the most hysterical housemaid of them all. He
solemnly declared to me that he had himself repeatedly seen the pale
lady sitting at the fatal window, when on his way to and from his home
beyond the hills; and moreover, that on the death of Lady Collingham,
which occurred at her daughter's birth, he had heard the long, shrill
death-scream echo through the mansion while engaged in the last offices
of the Church by the bedside of the dying lady.
"So I found it impossible to fight single-handed against these adverse
influences, and could only endeavor to divert the mind of my patient
into more healthy channels of thought. In this I succeeded perfectly.
She became an enthusiastic botanist, and our rambles in search of the
rare and lovely specimens which were to be found among the woods and
moors surrounding her dwelling did more for her health, both of body and
mind, than all the medical skill I could bring to bear on her melancholy
case.
"Four years had elapsed since I first took up my abode at
Collingham-Westmore. Miss Collingham had grown from a sickly child into
a singularly graceful young woman, full of bright intelligence, eager
for information, and with scarcely an outward trace remaining of her
former fragile health. Still those mysterious swoons occasionally
visited her, forming an insurmountable obstacle to her mingling in
general society, which she was in all other respects so well fitted to
adorn. They occurred without any warning or apparent cause; one moment
she would be engaged in animated conversation, and the next, white and
rigid as a statue, she would fall back in her chair insensible to all
outward objects, but rapt and carried away into a world of her own,
whose visions she would sometimes describe in glowing language, although
she retained no recollection whatever of them when she returned, as
suddenly and at as uncertain a period, to her normal condition. On one
of these occasions we were sitting, after dinner, in a large apartment
called the summer dining-room. Fruit and wine were on the table, and the
last red beams of the setting sun lighted up the distant woods, which
were in the first flush of their autumn glory. I turned to remark on the
beautiful effect of light to Miss Collingham, and at the very moment I
did so she fell back in one of her strange swoons. But instead of the
death-like air which her features usually assumed, a lovely smile
lighted them up, and an expression of ecstasy made her beauty appear for
the moment almost superhuman. Slowly she raised her right hand, and
pointed in the direction of the setting sun. 'He is coming,' she said in
soft, clear tones; 'life and light are coming with him,--life and light
and liberty!'
"Her hand fell gently by her side; the rapt expression faded from her
countenance, and the usual death-like blank overspread it. This trance
passed away like others, and by midnight the house was profoundly still.
Soon after that hour a vociferous peal at the great hall-bell roused
most of the inmates from sleep. My rooms were in a distant quarter of
the house, and a door opposite to that of my bedroom led to the haunted
wing, but was always kept locked. I started up on hearing a second ring,
and looked out, in hopes of seeing a servant pass, and ascertaining the
cause of this unusual disturbance. I saw no one, and after listening for
a while to the opening of the hall-door, and the sound of distant
voices, I made up my mind that I should be sent for if wanted, and
re-entered my room. As I was closing the door, I was rather startled to
see a tall object, of grayish-white color and indistinct form, issue
from the gallery whose door, as I said before, had always been locked in
my recollection. For a moment I felt as though rooted to the spot, and a
strange sensation crept over me. The next, all trace of the appearance
had vanished, and I persuaded myself that what I had seen must have been
some effect of light from the open door of my room.
"The cause of the nightly disturbance appeared at breakfast on the
following morning in the shape of a remarkably handsome young man, who
was introduced by Sir James as his nephew, Don Luis de Cabral, the son
of an only sister long dead, who had married a Spaniard of high rank.
Don Luis showed but little trace of his southern parentage. If I may so
express it, all the depth and warmth of coloring in that portion of his
blood which he inherited from his Spanish ancestors came out in the
raven-black hair and large lustrous dark eyes, which impressed you at
once with their uncommon beauty. For the rest, he was a fine well-grown
young man, no darker in complexion than an Englishman might well be, and
with a careless, happy boyishness of manner, which won immediately on
the regard of strangers, and rendered his presence in the house like
that of a perpetual sunbeam. We all wondered, after a little while, what
we had done before Luis came among us. He was as a son to Sir James;
Miss Patricia softened to this new and pleasing interest in her
colorless existence as I could not have believed it was in her
fossilized nature to do; Miss Henderson became animated, almost young,
under the reviving influence of the youth and joyousness of our new
inmate; and I own that I speedily attached myself with a warm and
affectionate regard to the happy, unselfish nature that seemed to
brighten all who came near it.
"But the most remarkable effect of the presence of Don Luis de Cabral
among us was visible in Miss Collingham. 'Love at first sight,' often
considered as a mere phrase, was, in the case of these two young
creatures, an unmistakable reality. From the moment of their first
meeting, the cousins were mutually drawn toward each other; and seeing
the bright and wonderful change wrought by the presence of Don Luis in
Blanche Collingham, I could not but remember, with the interest that
attaches to a curious psychological phenomenon, the words she uttered in
her trance on the eve of his arrival. 'Life, light, and liberty,'
indeed, appeared given to all that was best and brightest in her nature.
Her health improved visibly, and her beauty, always touching, became
radiant in its full development. My duties toward her were now merely
nominal; and when, about two months later, Sir James announced to me her
approaching marriage, and confessed that it was with this object he had
invited Don Luis to come and make the acquaintance of his English
relations, the strong opinions I entertained against the marriage of
first cousins, and also on the especial inadvisability of any project of
marriage in the case of Miss Collingham, could not prevent my hearty
rejoicing in the fair prospect of happiness in which two persons who
deeply interested me were indulging.
"Winter set in early and severely that year among our northern hills,
and with a view to Blanche's removal from its withering influence, which
I always considered prejudicial to her, the preparations for the
marriage were hurried on, and the ceremony was fixed to take place about
the middle of December. The travelling-carriage which was to convey the
young couple on their way southward was to arrive at the nearest
railway-station--then more than thirty miles distant--a week before the
marriage; and as some important portions of the trousseau, together with
a valuable package of jewels intended by Don Luis as presents for his
bride, were expected at the same time, the young man announced his
intention of riding across the hills to ----, in order to superintend
the conveyance of the carriage and its contents along the rough mountain
roads that it must traverse.
"We were all sitting around the great fireplace in the winter parlor on
the evening before his departure. Miss Collingham had been languid and
depressed throughout the day, and often adverted to the long wintry ride
he was to undertake in a strain of apprehension at which Don Luis
laughed gayly. To divert her mind, he recounted various adventures
which had befallen him in foreign lands, with a vigorous simplicity of
description which enchained her attention and interested us all.
"Suddenly, so sitting, Miss Collingham leaned forward, and in a changed,
eager voice exclaimed, 'Luis, take away your hand from your throat!'
"We looked. Luis' hands were lying one over the other on his knee in a
careless attitude that was habitual to him.
"'Take it away, I say! Oh, take it away!'
"Miss Collingham started to her feet as she uttered these words almost
in a shriek, and then fell back rigid and senseless, her outstretched
hand still pointing to her betrothed.
"The fit was a severe one, but by morning it had yielded to remedies,
and Luis set off early on his ride, to make the most of the short
daylight, and intending to return with the carriage on the morrow. All
that day Miss Collingham remained in a half-conscious state. It was a
dreary day of gloom, with a piercing north wind, and toward evening the
snow began to fall in those close, compact flakes which forebode a heavy
storm. We were glad to think that Luis must have reached his destination
before it began; but when the next morning dawned on a wide expanse of
snow, and the air was still thick with fast-falling flakes, it was
feared that the state of the roads would preclude all hope of the
arrival of the carriage on that day.
"My patient took no heed of the untoward state of the weather. She was
still in a drowsy condition, very unlike that which usually succeeded
her attacks, and Miss Henderson, who had watched by her through the
night, told me she spoke more than once in a strange, excited manner, as
though carrying on a conversation with some one whom she appeared to see
by her bedside. As the good lady, however, could give but a very
imperfect and incoherent account of what had passed, I was left in some
doubt as to whether Miss Collingham had seen more or Miss Henderson less
than there really was to be seen, as I had before had reason to believe
that she was not a very vigilant nurse.
"So the hours went on, and night closed in. Sir James began to feel some
uneasiness at the non-appearance, not only of Don Luis, but also of the
priest, who was to have arrived at Collingham-Westmore on that day.
"On questioning some of the servants who had been out of the house, the
absence of Father O'Connor at least was satisfactorily accounted for:
they all declared that it would be quite impossible for those best
acquainted with the hills to find their way across them in the blinding
drifts which had never ceased throughout the day. We concluded that
Father O'Connor and Don Luis were alike storm-stayed, and had no remedy
but patience.
"Late in the evening--it must have been near midnight--I was in Miss
Collingham's dressing-room with Miss Patricia, who intended to watch by
her through the night. We were talking by the fire, of the snow-storm
which still continued, and of the hindrance it might prove to the
marriage--the day fixed for which was now less than a week
distant--when we heard a voice in the adjoining room, where we imagined
the object of our care to be sleeping. We went in. Miss Collingham was
sitting up in bed, her eyes wide open, in one of her rigid fits. She was
speaking rapidly in a low tone, unlike her usual voice.
"'You cannot get through all that snow,' she said. 'Get help; there are
men not far off with spades. Oh, be careful! You are off the road! Stop,
stop! that is the way to Armstrong's Clough. Does not the postboy know
the road? He is bewildered. I tell you it is madness to go on. See, one
of the horses has fallen; he kicks--he will hit you! Oh, how dark it is!
And the snow covers your lantern, and you cannot see the edge. Now the
horse is up again, but he cannot go on. Do not beat him, Luis; it is not
his fault, poor beast; the snow is too thick, and you are on rough
ground. Now he rears--he backs--the other one backs also--the wheel of
the carriage is over the edge--ah!'
"The scream with which these wild, hurried words ended seemed to be
taken up and echoed from a distance. Miss Patricia stared at me with a
ghastly white face of horror, and I felt my blood curdle as that long,
shrill, unearthly shriek pealed through the silent passages. It grew
louder and nearer, and seemed to sweep through the room, dying away in
the opposite direction. Miss Patricia fell forward without a word in a
dead faint.
"I looked at Miss Collingham; she had not moved, or shown any sign of
hearing or heeding that awful sound. In a few seconds the room was
filled with terrified women, roused from their sleep by the weird cry
which rang through the house. Miss Patricia was conveyed by some of them
to her own room, where, after much difficulty, we restored her to
consciousness. Her first act was to grasp me by the arm.
"'Mr. Feversham, for the love of the Holy Virgin do not leave me! I have
seen that which I cannot look upon and live.'
"I soothed her as best I might, and at last persuaded her to allow me to
leave her with her own maid in order to visit my other patient,
promising to return shortly.
"I found no change whatever in Miss Collingham. Sir James was in the
room trying to establish some degree of calmness and order among the
terrified women. We succeeded in persuading most of them to take a
restorative and return to bed, and leaving two of the most
self-possessed to watch beside Miss Collingham, who was still completely
insensible, we went together to Miss Patricia's room.
"'Brother, I have seen her!' she exclaimed on Sir James' entrance.
"'Seen who, my dear Patricia?'
"'The pale lady--the spectre of our house,' she replied, shuddering from
head to foot. 'She passed through the room, her hand upraised, and the
blood-spots on her garment. Oh, James! my time is come, and Father
O'Connor is not here.'
"Sir James did not attempt to combat his sister's superstitious terrors,
but appeared, on the contrary, almost as deeply impressed as herself,
and questioned her closely about the apparition. Her answers led to some
mention of the strange vision which Miss Collingham was describing in
her trance just before the scream was heard. At Sir James' request I put
down in writing, as nearly as I could remember, all she had said, and so
great was the impression it made on my mind that I believe I recalled
her very words. Knowing all we did of her abnormal condition while in a
state of trance, it was impossible not to fear that she might have been
describing a scene that was actually occurring at the time; and Sir
James determined to send out a party, as soon as daylight came, on the
road by which Don Luis must arrive.
"The morning dawned brightly, with a keen frost, and several men were
sent off along the road to ---- with the first rays of light.
"Some hours afterward Father O'Connor arrived, having made his way with
considerable difficulty across the hill. Miss Patricia claimed his first
attention, for my unhappy charge remained senseless and motionless as
ever.
"After a long conference, he came to me with grave looks.
"'She is at the window this day,' he said, shaking his head sorrowfully,
when I had told him my share of the last night's singular experiences.
'The pale lady is there; I saw her as I came by the bridge as plainly as
now I see you. We shall have evil tidings of that poor lad before
nightfall, or I am strangely mistaken.'
"Evil tidings indeed they were that reached us on the return of some of
the exploring-party. They were first attracted from following as nearly
as they could the line of road, blocked as it was with drifts of snow by
hearing the howling of a dog at some little distance, in the direction
of the precipitous ravine which went by the name of 'Armstrong's
Clough.' Following the sound, they came upon traces of wheels in the
hill-side, where no carriage could have gone had it not been for the
deep snow which concealed and smoothed away the inequalities of the
ground. These marks were traced here and there till they led to the
verge of the precipice, where a struggle had evidently taken place, and
masses of snow had been dislodged and fallen into the ravine.
"Looking below, the only thing they could see in the waste of snow was a
little dog, who was known to be in the habit of running with the
post-horses from ----, which was scraping wildly in the snow and filling
the air with its dismal howlings. A considerable circuit had to be made
before the bottom of the clough could be reached, and then the whole
tragedy was revealed. There lay the broken carriage, the dead horses,
and two stiffened corpses under the snow, that had drifted over and
around them.
"I need not pursue the melancholy story; I was an old fool for telling
it to you," said the Doctor.
"But Miss Collingham--what became of her?" asked an eager listener.
"Well, she did not recover," answered the Doctor with a slight trembling
in his voice. "It was a sad matter altogether; and within a short time
she lay beside her betrothed in the family vault below the chapel. Sir
James broke up his establishment and went abroad, and I never saw any of
the family again."
"And what did you do, Doctor?"
"I went to London, to seek my fortune as best I might; and I hope you
may all prosper as well, my young friends."
"And is it all really true?" asked Amy, who had listened with breathless
attention.
"That is the worst of it; it really is," said the Doctor.
THE SECRET OF THE TWO PLASTER CASTS.