thought suddenly struck me; might it not be possible to escape through
the door, which the assassin must open in order to enter the room?
I resolved to make the attempt. I felt assured that the door through
which ingress to the room would be effected was that which opened
upon the lobby. It was the more direct way, besides being, for obvious
reasons, less liable to interruption than the other. I resolved, then,
to place myself behind a projection of the wall, the shadow would
serve fully to conceal me, and when the door should be opened, and
before they should have discovered the identity of the occupant of
the bed, to creep noiselessly from the room, and then to trust to
Providence for escape. In order to facilitate this scheme, I removed
all the lumber which I had heaped against the door; and I had
nearly completed my arrangements, when I perceived the room suddenly
darkened, by the close approach of some shadowy object to the window.
On turning my eyes in that direction, I observed at the top of the
casement, as if suspended from above, first the feet, then the legs,
then the body, and at length the whole figure of a man present itself.
It was Edward Tyrrell. He appeared to be guiding his descent so as to
bring his feet upon the centre of the stone block which occupied the
lower part of the window; and having secured his footing upon this, he
kneeled down and began to gaze into the room. As the moon was gleaming
into the chamber, and the bed-curtains were drawn, he was able to
distinguish the bed itself and its contents. He appeared satisfied
with his scrutiny, for he looked up and made a sign with his hand.
He then applied his hands to the window-frame, which must have
been ingeniously contrived for the purpose, for with apparently no
resistance the whole frame, containing casement and all, slipped from
its position in the wall, and was by him lowered into the room. The
cold night wind waved the bed-curtains, and he paused for a moment;
all was still again, and he stepped in upon the floor of the room.
He held in his hand what appeared to be a steel instrument, shaped
something like a long hammer. This he held rather behind him, while,
with three long, _tip-toe_ strides, he brought himself to the bedside.
I felt that the discovery must now be made, and held my breath in
momentary expectation of the execration in which he would vent his
surprise and disappointment. I closed my eyes; there was a pause, but
it was a short one. I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession;
a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy breathing of the sleeper
was for ever suspended. I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer fling
the quilt across the head of his victim; he then, with the instrument
of death still in his hand, proceeded to the lobby-door, upon which
he tapped sharply twice or thrice. A quick step was then heard
approaching, and a voice whispered something from without. Edward
answered, with a kind of shuddering chuckle, "Her ladyship is past
complaining; unlock the door, in the devil's name, unless you're
afraid to come in, and help me to lift her out of the window." The
key was turned in the lock, the door opened, and my uncle entered the
room. I have told you already that I had placed myself under the shade
of a projection of the wall, close to the door. I had instinctively
shrunk down cowering towards the ground on the entrance of Edward
through the window. When my uncle entered the room, he and his son
both stood so very close to me that his hand was every moment upon the
point of touching my face. I held my breath, and remained motionless
as death.
"You had no interruption from the next room?" said my uncle.
"No," was the brief reply.
"Secure the jewels, Ned; the French harpy must not lay her claws upon
them. You're a steady hand, by G--d; not much blood--eh?"
"Not twenty drops," replied his son, "and those on the quilt."
"I'm glad it's over," whispered my uncle again; "we must lift the--the
_thing_ through the window, and lay the rubbish over it."
They then turned to the bedside, and, winding the bed-clothes round
the body, carried it between them slowly to the window, and exchanging
a few brief words with some one below, they shoved it over the
window-sill, and I heard it fall heavily on the ground underneath.
"I'll take the jewels," said my uncle; "there are two caskets in the
lower drawer."
He proceeded, with an accuracy which, had I been more at ease, would
have furnished me with matter of astonishment, to lay his hand upon
the very spot where my jewels lay; and having possessed himself of
them, he called to his son:--
"Is the rope made fast above?"
"I'm no fool; to be sure it is," replied he.
They then lowered themselves from the window; and I rose lightly and
cautiously, scarcely daring to breathe, from my place of concealment,
and was creeping towards the door, when I heard my uncle's voice, in a
sharp whisper, exclaim, "Get up again; G--d d--n you, you've forgot
to lock the room door"; and I perceived, by the straining of the rope
which hung from above, that the mandate was instantly obeyed. Not
a second was to be lost. I passed through the door, which was only
closed, and moved as rapidly as I could, consistently with stillness,
along the lobby. Before I had gone many yards, I heard the door
through which I had just passed roughly locked on the inside. I glided
down the stairs in terror, lest, at every corner, I should meet the
murderer or one of his accomplices. I reached the hall, and listened,
for a moment, to ascertain whether all was silent around. No sound was
audible; the parlour windows opened on the park, and through one
of them I might, I thought, easily effect my escape. Accordingly, I
hastily entered; but, to my consternation, a candle was burning in the
room, and by its light I saw a figure seated at the dinner-table, upon
which lay glasses, bottles, and the other accompaniments of a drinking
party. Two or three chairs were placed about the table, irregularly,
as if hastily abandoned by their occupants. A single glance satisfied
me that the figure was that of my French attendant. She was fast
asleep, having, probably, drank deeply. There was something malignant
and ghastly in the calmness of this bad woman's features, dimly
illuminated as they were by the flickering blaze of the candle. A
knife lay upon the table, and the terrible thought struck me--"Should
I kill this sleeping accomplice in the guilt of the murderer, and thus
secure my retreat?" Nothing could be easier; it was but to draw the
blade across her throat, the work of a second.
An instant's pause, however, corrected me. "No," thought I, "the God
who has conducted me thus far through the valley of the shadow of
death, will not abandon me now. I will fall into their hands, or I
will escape hence, but it shall be free from the stain of blood; His
will be done." I felt a confidence arising from this reflection, an
assurance of protection which I cannot describe. There were no other
means of escape, so I advanced, with a firm step and collected mind,
to the window. I noiselessly withdrew the bars, and unclosed the
shutters; I pushed open the casement, and without waiting to look
behind me, I ran with my utmost speed, scarcely feeling the ground
beneath me, down the avenue, taking care to keep upon the grass which
bordered it. I did not for a moment slacken my speed, and I had now
gained the central point between the park-gate and the mansion-house.
Here the avenue made a wider circuit, and in order to avoid delay, I
directed my way across the smooth sward round which the carriageway
wound, intending, at the opposite side of the level, at a point which
I distinguished by a group of old birch trees, to enter again upon the
beaten track, which was from thence tolerably direct to the gate. I
had, with my utmost speed, got about half way across this broad flat,
when the rapid tramp of a horse's hoofs struck upon my ear. My heart
swelled in my bosom, as though I would smother. The clattering of
galloping hoofs approached; I was pursued; they were now upon the
sward on which I was running; there was not a bush or a bramble to
shelter me; and, as if to render escape altogether desperate, the
moon, which had hitherto been obscured, at this moment shone forth
with a broad, clear light, which made every object distinctly visible.
The sounds were now close behind me. I felt my knees bending under
me, with the sensation which unnerves one in a dream. I reeled,
I stumbled, I fell; and at the same instant the cause of my alarm
wheeled past me at full gallop. It was one of the young fillies which
pastured loose about the park, whose frolics had thus all but maddened
me with terror. I scrambled to my feet, and rushed on with weak but
rapid steps, my sportive companion still galloping round and round me
with many a frisk and fling, until, at length, more dead than alive,
I reached the avenue-gate, and crossed the stile, I scarce knew how.
I ran through the village, in which all was silent as the grave, until
my progress was arrested by the hoarse voice of a sentinel, who
cried "Who goes there?" I felt that I was now safe. I turned in the
direction of the voice, and fell fainting at the soldier's feet. When
I came to myself, I was sitting in a miserable hovel, surrounded by
strange faces, all bespeaking curiosity and compassion. Many soldiers
were in it also; indeed, as I afterwards found, it was employed as a
guard-room by a detachment of troops quartered for that night in the
town. In a few words I informed their officer of the circumstances
which had occurred, describing also the appearance of the persons
engaged in the murder; and he, without further loss of time than was
necessary to procure the attendance of a magistrate, proceeded to the
mansion-house of Carrickleigh, taking with him a party of his men.
But the villains had discovered their mistake, and had effected their
escape before the arrival of the military.
The Frenchwoman was, however, arrested in the neighbourhood upon the
next day. She was tried and condemned at the ensuing assizes; and
previous to her execution confessed that "_she had a hand in making
Hugh Tisdall's bed_." She had been a housekeeper in the castle at the
time, and a _chère amie_ of my uncle's. She was, in reality, able
to speak English like a native, but had exclusively used the French
language, I suppose to facilitate her designs. She died the same
hardened wretch she had lived, confessing her crimes only, as she
alleged, that her doing so might involve Sir Arthur Tyrrell, the
great author of her guilt and misery, and whom she now regarded with
unmitigated detestation.
With the particulars of Sir Arthur's and his son's escape, as far
as they are known, you are acquainted. You are also in possession
of their after fate; the terrible, the tremendous retribution which,
after long delays of many years, finally overtook and crushed them.
Wonderful and inscrutable are the dealings of God with his creatures!
Deep and fervent as must always be my gratitude to heaven for my
deliverance, effected by a chain of providential occurrences, the
failing of a single link of which must have ensured my destruction,
it was long before I could look back upon it with other feelings than
those of bitterness, almost of agony. The only being that had
ever really loved me, my nearest and dearest friend, ever ready to
sympathise, to counsel, and to assist; the gayest, the gentlest, the
warmest heart; the only creature on earth that cared for me; _her_
life had been the price of my deliverance; and I then uttered the
wish, which no event of my long and sorrowful life has taught me to
recall, that she had been spared, and that, in her stead, _I_ were
mouldering in the grave, forgotten, and at rest.
End of Project Gutenberg's Two Ghostly Mysteries, by Joseph Sheridan LeFanu