of the doctor, who grew more and more crabbed and intolerant, the
nearer the term of apprenticeship approached. Frau Ilsy, too, was for
ever finding some occasion to raise a windy tempest about his ears;
and seldom encountered him about the house, without a clatter of the
tongue; so that at length the jingling of her keys, as she approached,
was to Dolph like the ringing of the prompter's bell, that gives
notice of a theatrical thunder-storm. Nothing but the infinite
good-humour of the heedless youngster, enabled him to bear all this
domestic tyranny without open rebellion. It was evident that the
doctor and his housekeeper were preparing to beat the poor youth out
of the nest, the moment his term should have expired; a shorthand mode
which the doctor had of providing for useless disciples.
Indeed, the little man had been rendered more than usually irritable
lately, in consequence of various cares and vexations which his
country estate had brought upon him. The doctor had been repeatedly
annoyed by the rumours and tales which prevailed concerning the old
mansion; and found it difficult to prevail even upon the countryman
and his family to remain there rent-free. Every time he rode out to
the farm, he was teased by some fresh complaint of strange noises and
fearful sights, with which the tenants were disturbed at night; and
the doctor would come home fretting and fuming, and vent his spleen
upon the whole household. It was indeed a sore grievance, that
affected him both in pride and purse. He was threatened with an
absolute loss of the profits of his property; and then, what a blow to
his territorial consequence, to be the landlord of a haunted house!
It was observed, however, that with all his vexation, the doctor never
proposed to sleep in the house himself; nay, he could never be
prevailed upon to remain in the premises after dark, but made the best
of his way for town, as soon as the bats began to flit about in the
twilight. The fact was, the doctor had a secret belief in ghosts,
having passed the early part of his life in a country where they
particularly abound; and indeed the story went, that, when a boy, he
had once seen the devil upon the Hartz mountains in Germany.
At length, the doctor's vexations on this head were brought to a
crisis. One morning, as he sat dozing over a volume in his study, he
was suddenly started from his slumbers by the bustling in of the
housekeeper.
"Here's a fine to do!" cried she, as she entered the room. "Here's
Claus Hopper come in, bag and baggage, from the farm, and swears he'll
have nothing more to do with it. The whole family have been frightened
out of their wits; for there's such racketing and rummaging about the
old house, that they can't sleep quiet in their beds!"
"Donner und blitzen!" cried the doctor, impatiently; "will they never
have done chattering about that house? What a pack of fools, to let a
few rats and mice frighten them out of good quarters!"
"Nay, nay," said the housekeeper, wagging her head knowingly, and
piqued at having a good ghost story doubted, "there's more in it than
rats and mice. All the neighbourhood talks about the house; and then
such sights have been seen in it! Peter de Groodt tells me, that the
family that sold you the house and went to Holland, dropped several
strange hints about it, and said, 'they wished you joy of your
bargain;' and you know yourself there's no getting any family to live
in it."
"Peter de Groodt's a ninny--an old woman," said the doctor, peevishly;
"I'll warrant he's been filling these people's heads full of stories.
It's just like his nonsense about the ghost that haunted the church
belfry, as an excuse for not ringing the bell that cold night when
Hermanus Brinkerhoff's house was on fire. Send Claus to me."
Claus Hopper now made his appearance: a simple country lout, full of
awe at finding himself in the very study of Dr. Knipperhausen, and too
much embarrassed to enter into much detail of the matters that had
caused his alarm. He stood twirling his hat in one hand, resting
sometimes on one leg, sometimes on the other, looking occasionally at
the doctor, and now and then stealing a fearful glance at the
death's-head that seemed ogling him from the top of the clothes-press;
The doctor tried every means to persuade him to return to the farm,
but all in vain; he maintained a dogged determination on the subject;
and at the close of every argument or solicitation, would make the
same brief, inflexible reply, "Ich kan nicht, mynheer." The doctor was
a "little pot, and soon hot;" his patience was exhausted by these
continual vexations about his estate. The stubborn refusal of Claus
Hopper seemed to him like flat rebellion; his temper suddenly boiled
over, and Claus was glad to make a rapid retreat to escape scalding.
When the bumpkin got to the housekeeper's room, he found Peter de
Groodt, and several other true believers, ready to receive him. Here
he indemnified himself for the restraint he had suffered in the study,
and opened a budget of stories about the haunted house that astonished
all his hearers. The housekeeper believed them all, if it was only
to spite the doctor for having received her intelligence so
uncourteously. Peter de Groodt matched them with many a wonderful
legend of the times of the Dutch dynasty, and of the Devil's
Stepping-stones; and of the pirate that was hanged at Gibbet Island,
and continued to swing there at night long after the gallows was taken
down; and of the ghost of the unfortunate Governor Leisler, who was
hanged for treason, which haunted the old fort and the government
house. The gossiping knot dispersed, each charged with direful
intelligence. The sexton disburdened himself at a vestry meeting that
was held that very day, and the black cook forsook her kitchen, and
spent half the day at the street pump, that gossiping place of
servants, dealing forth the news to all that came for water. In a
little time, the whole town was in a buzz with tales about the haunted
house. Some said that Claus Hopper had seen the devil, while others
hinted that the house was haunted by the ghosts of some of the
patients whom the doctor had physicked out of the world, and that was
the reason why he did not venture to live in it himself.
All this put the little doctor in a terrible fume. He threatened
vengeance on any one who should affect the value of his property by
exciting popular prejudices. He complained loudly of thus being in a
manner dispossessed of his territories by mere bugbears; but he
secretly determined to have the house exorcised by the Dominie. Great
was his relief, therefore, when, in the midst of his perplexities,
Dolph stepped forward and undertook to garrison the haunted house. The
youngster had been listening to all the stories of Claus Hopper and
Peter de Groodt: he was fond of adventure, he loved the marvellous,
and his imagination had become quite excited by these tales of wonder.
Besides, he had led such an uncomfortable life at the doctor's, being
subjected to the intolerable thraldom of early hours, that he was
delighted at the prospect of having a house to himself, even though it
should be a haunted one. His offer was eagerly accepted, and it was
determined that he should mount guard that very night. His only
stipulation was, that the enterprise should be kept secret from his
mother; for he knew the poor soul would not sleep a wink, if she knew
that her son was waging war with the powers of darkness.
When night came on, he set out on this perilous expedition. The old
black cook, his only friend in the household, had provided him with a
little mess for supper, and a rushlight; and she tied round his neck
an amulet, given her by an African conjurer, as a charm against evil
spirits. Dolph was escorted on his way by the doctor and Peter de
Groodt, who had agreed to accompany him to the house, and to see him
safe lodged. The night was overcast, and it was very dark when they
arrived at the grounds which surrounded the mansion. The sexton led
the way with a lantern. As they walked along the avenue of acacias,
the fitful light, catching from bush to bush, and tree to tree, often
startled the doughty Peter, and made him, fall back upon his
followers; and the doctor grabbed still closer hold of Dolph's arm,
observing that the ground was very slippery and uneven. At one time
they were nearly put to a total rout by a bat, which came flitting
about the lantern; and the notes of the insects from the trees, and
the frogs from a neighbouring pond, formed a most drowsy and doleful
concert.
The front door of the mansion opened with a grating sound, that made
the doctor turn pale. They entered a tolerably large hall, such as is
common in American country-houses, and which serves for a sitting-room
in warm weather. From hence they went up a wide staircase, that
groaned and creaked as they trod, every step making its particular
note, like the key of a harpsichord. This led to another hall on the
second story, from whence they entered the room where Dolph was to
sleep. It was large, and scantily furnished; the shutters were closed;
but as they were much broken, there was no want of a circulation of
air. It appeared to have been that sacred chamber, known among Dutch
housewives by the name of "the best bed-room;" which is the best
furnished room in the house, but in which scarce any body is ever
permitted to sleep. Its splendour, however, was all at an end. There
were a few broken articles of furniture about the room, and in the
centre stood a heavy deal table and a large arm-chair, both of which
had the look of being coeval with the mansion. The fire-place was
wide, and had been faced with Dutch tiles, representing scripture
stories; but some of them had fallen out of their places, and lay
shattered about the hearth. The sexton had lit the rushlight; and the
doctor, looking fearfully about the room, was just exhorting Dolph to
be of good cheer, and to pluck up a stout heart, when a noise in the
chimney, like voices and struggling, struck a sudden panic into the
sexton. He took to his heels with the lantern; the doctor followed
hard after him; the stairs groaned and creaked as they hurried down,
increasing their agitation and speed by its noises. The front door
slammed after them; and Dolph heard them scrabbling down the avenue,
till the sound of their feet was lost in the distance. That he did not
join in this precipitate retreat, might have been owing to his
possessing a little more courage than his companions, or perhaps that
he had caught a glimpse of the cause of their dismay, in a nest of
chimney swallows, that came tumbling down into the fire-place.
Being now left to himself, he secured the front door by a strong bolt
and bar; and having seen that the other entrances were fastened, he
returned to his desolate chamber. Having made his supper from the
basket which the good old cook had provided, he locked the chamber
door, and retired to rest on a mattress in one corner. The night was
calm and still; and nothing broke upon the profound quiet but the
lonely chirping of a cricket from the chimney of a distant chamber.
The rushlight, which stood in the centre of the deal table, shed a
feeble yellow ray, dimly illumining the chamber, and making uncouth
shapes and shadows on the walls, from the clothes which Dolph had
thrown over a chair.
With all his boldness of heart, there was something subduing in this
desolate scene; and he felt his spirits flag within him, as he lay on
his hard bed and gazed about the room. He was turning over in his mind
his idle habits, his doubtful prospects, and now and then heaving a
heavy sigh, as he thought on his poor old mother; for there is nothing
like the silence and loneliness of night to bring dark shadows over
the brightest mind. By-and-by, he thought he heard a sound as if
some one was walking below stairs. He listened, and distinctly heard
a step on the great staircase. It approached solemnly and slowly,
tramp--tramp--tramp! It was evidently the tread of some heavy personage;
and yet how could he have got into the house without making a noise?
He had examined all the fastenings, and was certain that every entrance
was secure. Still the steps advanced, tramp--tramp--tramp! It was
evident that the person approaching could not be a robber--the step
was too loud and deliberate; a robber would either be stealthy or
precipitate. And now the footsteps had ascended the staircase; they
were slowly advancing along the passage, resounding through the silent
and empty apartments. The very cricket had ceased its melancholy note,
and nothing interrupted their awful distinctness. The door, which had
been locked on the inside, slowly swung open, as if self-moved. The
footsteps entered the room; but no one was to be seen. They passed
slowly and audibly across it, tramp--tramp--tramp! but whatever made
the sound was invisible. Dolph rubbed his eyes, and stared about him;
he could see to every part of the dimly-lighted chamber; all was
vacant; yet still he heard those mysterious footsteps, solemnly walking
about the chamber. They ceased, and all was dead silence. There was
something more appalling in this invisible visitation, than there would
have been in anything that addressed itself to the eyesight. It was
awfully vague and indefinite. He felt his heart beat against his ribs;
a cold sweat broke out upon his forehead; he lay for some time in a
state of violent agitation; nothing, however, occurred to increase his
alarm. His light gradually burnt down into the socket, and he fell
asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight; the sun was peering
through the cracks of the window-shutters, and the birds were merrily
singing about the house. The bright, cheery day soon put to flight all
the terrors of the preceding night. Dolph laughed, or rather tried to
laugh, at all that had passed, and endeavoured to persuade himself that
it was a mere freak of the imagination, conjured up by the stories he
had heard; but he was a little puzzled to find the door of his room
locked on the inside, notwithstanding that he had positively seen it
swing open as the footsteps had entered. He returned to town in a state
of considerable perplexity; but he determined to say nothing on the
subject, until his doubts were either confirmed or removed by another
night's watching. His silence was a grievous disappointment to the
gossips who had gathered at the doctor's mansion. They had prepared
their minds to hear direful tales; and they were almost in a rage at
being assured that he had nothing to relate.
The next night, then, Dolph repeated his vigil. He now entered the
house with some trepidation. He was particular in examining the
fastenings of all the doors, and securing them well. He locked the
door of his chamber, and placed a chair against it; then, having
despatched his supper, he threw himself on his mattress and
endeavoured to sleep. It was all in vain--a thousand crowding fancies
kept him waking. The time slowly dragged on, as if minutes were
spinning out themselves into hours. As the night advanced, he grew
more and more nervous; and he almost started from his couch, when he
heard the mysterious footstep again on the staircase. Up it came, as
before, solemnly and slowly, tramp--tramp--tramp! It approached along
the passage; the door again swung open, as if there had been neither
lock nor impediment, and a strange-looking figure stalked into the
room. It was an elderly man, large and robust, clothed in the old
Flemish fashion. He had on a kind of short cloak, with a garment under
it, belted round the waist; trunk hose, with great bunches or bows at
the knees; and a pair of russet boots, very large at top, and standing
widely from his legs. His hat was broad and slouched, with a feather
trailing over one side. His iron-gray hair hung in thick masses on his
neck; and he had a short grizzled beard. He walked slowly round the
room, as if examining that all was safe; then, hanging his hat on a
peg beside the door, he sat down in the elbow-chair, and, leaning his
elbow on the table, he fixed his eyes on Dolph with an unmoving and
deadening stare.
Dolph was not naturally a coward; but he had been brought up in an
implicit belief in ghosts and goblins. A thousand stories came
swarming to his mind, that he had heard about this building; and as he
looked at this strange personage, with his uncouth garb, his pale
visage, his grizzly beard, and his fixed, staring, fish-like eye, his
teeth began to chatter, his hair to rise on his head, and a cold sweat
to break out all over his body. How long he remained in this situation
he could not tell, for he was like one fascinated. He could not take
his gaze off from the spectre; but lay staring at him with his whole
intellect absorbed in the contemplation. The old man remained seated
behind the table, without stirring or turning an eye, always keeping a
dead steady glare upon Dolph. At length the household cock from a
neighbouring farm clapped his wings, and gave a loud cheerful crow
that rung over the fields. At the sound, the old man slowly rose and
took down his hat from the peg; the door opened and closed after him;
he was heard to go slowly down the staircase--tramp--tramp--tramp!
--and when he had got to the bottom, all was again silent. Dolph lay
and listened earnestly; counted every footfall; listened and listened
if the steps should return--until, exhausted by watching and
agitation, he fell into a troubled sleep.
Daylight again brought fresh courage and assurance. He would fain have
considered all that had passed as a mere dream; yet there stood the
chair in which the unknown had seated himself; there was the table on
which he had leaned; there was the peg on which he had hung his hat;
and there was the door, locked precisely as he himself had locked it,
with the chair placed against it. He hastened down-stairs and examined
the doors and windows; all were exactly in the same state in which he
had left them, and there was no apparent way by which any being could
have entered and left the house without leaving some trace behind.
"Pooh!" said Dolph to himself, "it was all a dream;"--but it would not
do; the more he endeavoured to shake the scene off from his mind, the
more it haunted him.
Though he persisted in a strict silence as to all that he had seen or
heard, yet his looks betrayed the uncomfortable night that he had
passed. It was evident that there was something wonderful hidden under
this mysterious reserve. The doctor took him into the study,--locked
the door, and sought to have a full and confidential communication;
but he could get nothing out of him. Frau Ilsy took him aside into the
pantry, but to as little purpose; and Peter de Groodt held him by the
button for a full hour in the church-yard, the very place to get at
the bottom of a ghost story, but came off not a whit wiser than the
rest. It is always the case, however, that one truth concealed makes a
dozen current lies. It is like a guinea locked up in a bank, that has
a dozen paper representatives. Before the day was over, the
neighbourhood was full of reports. Some said that Dolph Heyliger
watched in the haunted house with pistols loaded with silver bullets;
others, that he had a long talk with the spectre without a head;
others, that Doctor Knipperhausen and the sexton had been hunted down
the Bowery lane, and quite into town, by a legion of ghosts of their
customers. Some shook their heads, and thought it a shame that the
doctor should put Dolph to pass the night alone in that dismal house,
where he might be spirited away, no one knew whither; while others
observed, with a shrug, that if the devil did carry off the youngster,
it would be but taking his own.
These rumours at length reached the ears of the good Dame Heyliger,
and, as may be supposed, threw her into a terrible alarm. For her son
to have opposed himself to danger from living foes, would have been
nothing so dreadful in her eyes as to dare alone the terrors of the
haunted house. She hastened to the doctor's, and passed a great part
of the day in attempting to dissuade Dolph from repeating his vigil;
she told him a score of tales, which her gossiping friends had just
related to her, of persons who had been carried off when watching
alone in old ruinous houses. It was all to no effect. Dolph's pride,
as well as curiosity, was piqued. He endeavoured to calm the
apprehensions of his mother, and to assure her that there was no truth
in all the rumours she had heard; she looked at him dubiously, and
shook her head; but finding his determination was not to be shaken,
she brought him a little thick Dutch Bible, with brass clasps, to take
with him, as a sword wherewith to fight the powers of darkness; and,
lest that might not be sufficient, the housekeeper gave him the
Heidelburgh catechism by way of dagger.
The next night, therefore, Dolph took up his quarters for the third
time in the old mansion. Whether dream or not, the same thing was
repeated. Towards midnight, when every thing was still, the same sound
echoed through the empty halls--tramp--tramp--tramp! The stairs were
again ascended; the door again swung open; the old man entered, walked
round the room, hung up his hat, and seated himself by the table. The
same fear and trembling came over poor Dolph, though not in so violent
a degree. He lay in the same way, motionless and fascinated, staring
at the figure, which regarded him, as before, with a dead, fixed,
chilling gaze. In this way they remained for a long time, till, by
degrees, Dolph's courage began gradually to revive. Whether alive or
dead, this being had certainly some object in his visitation; and he
recollected to have heard it said, that spirits have no power to speak
until they are spoken to. Summoning up resolution, therefore, and
making two or three attempts before he could get his parched tongue in
motion, he addressed the unknown in the most solemn form of adjuration
that he could recollect, and demanded to know what was the motive of
his visit.
No sooner had he finished, than the old man rose, took down his hat,
the door opened, and he went out, looking back upon Dolph just as he
crossed the threshold, as if expecting him to follow. The youngster
did not hesitate an instant. He took the candle in his hand, and the
Bible under his arm, and obeyed the tacit invitation. The candle
emitted a feeble, uncertain ray; but still he could see the figure
before him, slowly descend the stairs. He followed, trembling. When it
had reached the bottom of the stairs, it turned through the hall
towards the back door of the mansion. Dolph held the light over the
balustrades; but, in his eagerness to catch a sight of the unknown, he
flared his feeble taper so suddenly, that it went out. Still there was
sufficient light from the pale moonbeams, that fell through a narrow
window, to give him an indistinct view of the figure, near the door.
He followed, therefore, down-stairs, and turned towards the place; but
when he had got there, the unknown had disappeared. The door remained
fast barred and bolted; there was no other mode of exit; yet the
being, whatever he might be, was gone. He unfastened the door, and
looked out into the fields. It was a hazy, moonlight night, so that
the eye could distinguish objects at some distance. He thought he saw
the unknown in a footpath that led from the door. He was not mistaken;
but how had he got out of the house? He did not pause to think, but
followed on. The old man proceeded at a measured pace, without looking
about him, his footsteps sounding on the hard ground. He passed
through the orchard of apple-trees that stood near the house, always
keeping the footpath. It led to a well, situated in a little hollow,
which had supplied the farm with water. Just at this well, Dolph lost
sight of him. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again; but nothing was to
be seen of the unknown. He reached the well, but nobody was there. All
the surrounding ground was open and clear; there was no bush nor
hiding-place. He looked down the well, and saw, at a great depth, the
reflection of the sky in the still water. After remaining here for
some time, without seeing or hearing any thing more of his mysterious
conductor, he returned to the house, full of awe and wonder. He bolted
the door, groped his way back to bed, and it was long before he could
compose himself to sleep.