The Haunted Homestead Part 2

Supper over and cleared away, the young people returned no more that night to the parlor in the new house, but prepared for a game of "Snap-apple" in the old dining-room, which their romping could not hurt.

I was so weary with my three days and nights of riding, and so eager besides for a _tete-a-tete_ with Mathilde, that I pleaded fatigue as an undeniable reason for retiring before the games should commence. I hoped that Mathilde alone would attend me. Not so. Mrs. Legare, apparently watching for my withdrawal, joined her daughter and myself as we left the room, and accompanied us to the chamber set apart for my use in the new house. When we had reached this apartment, Mrs. Legare said:

"There is no one that sleeps in this house usually. We keep these chambers princ.i.p.ally for the use of our guests. No one will occupy any room within it to-night except yourself, unless indeed you feel afraid----"

"Afraid?" repeated I, in a tone that quickly called forth an apology.

"Oh! I know, my dear Agnes, that you are no coward; but I did not know but that you might feel indisposed to sleep alone in a strange house."

"What? when it is a perfectly new house, Mrs. Legare? If, indeed, it were an old-time house, I might be afraid of the traditional ghost,"

said I, watching in her countenance the effect of my words, and seeing her, to my astonishment, turn pale, and send a quick, significant glance to Mathilde, who averted her head.

"Ah!" thought I, "the old house is haunted! Would they would only let me sleep there, where there is some chance of being delightfully frightened."

"I was about to say, Agnes, that if you prefer, I will send one of the negro women to sleep on a mattress in your room."

"By no means, Mrs. Legare. I shall fall asleep as soon as I touch my pillow, and not wake until morning--so I should not be able to appreciate the benefit of Peggy or Dinah's society."

"Very well, my dear, as you please. Here is a bellrope at your bed's head--its wires run into the old house. If you should want anything, ring."

I smiled, and a.s.sured my hostess that I wanted nothing but sleep.

Whereupon she called Mathilde, bade me good-night, and left the room.

Turning back, however, she said to me:

"Agnes, my dear, lock your chamber door after us."

"Yes, madam."

"Excuse me, my dear; but young people are forgetful--especially when they are tired and sleepy. I think I should like to hear you lock it, Agnes."

There was something in her caution that struck me as very singular--but I laughed and went to the door, and after repeating my good-night, as desired, shut the door in their faces, and locked it.

"There! have you heard me lock the door?" I inquired.

"Yes, my dear--all right."

"And is your mind at rest on that score?"

"I am sure that you have attended to my advice. Good night, and happy dreams."

"Thanks, and the same good wishes! Good-night!" said I, in conclusion.

I listened, and heard them go downstairs, enter the parlor, and fasten the windows, and secure the safety of the fire there--go to the back hall door, and bolt and bar it--and finally go out by the front door, and lock it after them.

Fastened up as I was in the house, I did not feel myself quite in prison, because, should I, like Sterne's starling, want to "get out," I could do so by the back door.

Now, I never could account for it, but no sooner was I left alone in that room, resplendent as it was with newness, than a strange feeling of superst.i.tion came over me, that I could neither understand nor escape.

It was in vain that I turned my eyes from the s.h.i.+ning white wall and freshly painted windows to the cheerful pattern of the carpet and furniture drapery, and said that in this new and freshly furnished chamber the supernatural was out of place--there grew upon me the impression of an unearthly presence near; and the feeling, in spite of all probability, that this--this was the scene of the household mystery--this was the haunted chamber!

In this new aspect I examined it. It was the least like one that could be imagined. It was a lofty, s.p.a.cious, cheerful, double-bedded room, with four large windows--two on the east and two on the west side--with a fireplace in the south wall, and the heads of the beds, at some distance apart, against the north wall. Between the two east windows was a pretty dressing-table and gla.s.s; between the west windows was a neat washstand with a china service; on each side of the fireplace were two s.p.a.cious clothes closets; before the fire sat two easy-chairs; in intermediate s.p.a.ces around the walls were half a dozen other chairs.

I examined the clothes closets, and found them entirely empty, and at the service of my dresses; then I looked under the bed; then beneath the drapery of the dressing-table; and finding nothing that should not be there, undressed myself, said my prayers, blew out my candle, and went to bed.

I could not sleep; my mind, my nerves, had for some reason become unusually excited; and, despite of extreme fatigue, I lay awake. I thought the room was too light; for, though the candle was extinguished, a glowing fire burned upon the hearth, a few yards from the foot of my bed, and the light of the now risen moon streamed into the east windows.

After turning from side to side, vainly wooing slumber, I arose and went to close the east front windows. As I reached them with this purpose, I stayed my hand a moment, while I looked out at the snow-clad, moon-lit mountain landscape; below me was the bottom, bounded, not many furlongs off, by the cedar-grown precipice, down which, that very evening, I had come; under the shelter of that mountain, straight in the line of my vision, lay the family graveyard of the former owner, in a copse of evergreens, where the spectral-looking tombstones gleamed whitely among the dark firs and cedars. Meditating upon those departed, I closed the blinds of the front windows, and then went to the back ones.

The latter looked straight down into the uncurtained windows of the lighted dining-room, where the young people were still at play. Above these windows, and directly opposite to mine, were those of Mrs.

Legare's bedroom, now dimly lighted from the fire within.

With this proximity of the family, I felt less lonely, closed my blinds, and returned to bed.

Still I could not sleep. The fire on the hearth, beyond my bed's foot, flickered up and down, casting tall, spectral shadows, that danced upon the walls, or stretched their long arms over the ceiling. For hours I lay watching this phantasmagoria, until the fire died down, and the tall, dancing shadows sank into a ma.s.s of darkness, before sleep came to my wearied senses. But scarcely had I closed my eyes upon the natural world before a strange vision, or dream, if you prefer to call it so, pa.s.sed before me. Methought I heard the click of a turning key; I opened my eyes, and saw the door slowly swing back upon its hinges, and a lady of dark, majestic beauty, dressed in deep mourning, and having a pale and care-worn face, enter the chamber! Slowly and silently she walked to and fro, her footfall waking no echo--her progress attended by no sound, save the slight rustle of her silken robe! I was magnetized to watch her, as with clasped hands and wide-open, mournful eyes, she walked in silent, measured steps up and down the room. At length she paused in the middle of the floor, fixed her eyes upon mine with a wild and mournful gaze, slowly raised one hand from the breast upon which both had been tightly clasped, and with her spectral finger extended downward, pointed to the spot beneath her feet, and then as slowly resumed her former att.i.tude, and pa.s.sed with measured steps from the room!

I tried to speak to her, to question her, but failed to utter a sound.

In an agony of distress I tried to call out, and in the effort to do so awoke! awoke to find that I had been dreaming.

But, reader! the door that I had locked so carefully the night before, was standing wide open, as when the dark woman of my dream had pa.s.sed through it!

Day was dawning. I s.h.i.+vered, both from superst.i.tious excitement, and from the cool draught of air blowing upon me from the open door. I drew the cover closely around me and listened; but no sounds except the undefined, low, pleasant murmur of awakening nature--the soft rustle of the pines in the up-springing morning breeze, the flutter of the night birds waking up in their branches, and the detonating echo of distant, louder noises were heard. I arose softly and opened the east window blinds, and then went back to bed to lie and watch the crimson light of morning kindling up the orient.

An hour I lay thus, watching the dawn growing brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. And then I heard a key turned in the hall door, and some one come in and ascend the stairs. It was the little black maid Jet, come to make my fire. As she entered I saw her eyes grow wild, and she inquired:

"Miss Agnes, is yer been up, miss, to open dis yer door?"

"I have been up this morning, Jet," said I, not wis.h.i.+ng to let her into my full confidence. The answer seemed to set her at rest, for her countenance lost its wild terror, and she proceeded with cheerful alacrity to light the fire, fill the ewers and so forth.

Before she had got through with her task, there was a rush of many feet into the hall, and up the stairs, and Mathilde and such of her young friends as were already up and dressed, bounded into the room, exclaiming:

"A merry Christmas! A merry Christmas, Agnes!"

Their arrival was enough to put to flight all the supernatural visitants that Hades ever sent forth. They hurried me with my toilet; they worried me to come down and see the Christmas tree, and get some eggnog.

I was carried away with their gay excitement, and almost forgot my mysterious dream or visitant, but not quite; for all through the morning greetings of the family, the eggnog drinking, the visit to the Christmas tree, the distributions of presents, the merry breakfast, the arrival of invited guests, the Christmas dinner party, the afternoon sports, and the evening dance, I was possessed with the haunting presence of that dark, handsome woman, and her majestic woe.

We danced in the dining-room through all the Christmas night; and it was two o'clock in the morning before we separated.

Again, when I was about to retire, Mrs. Legare came to accompany me.

"I hope you rested well last night, my dear Agnes, though I have scarcely had an opportunity of asking you to-day," she said, as we entered my room.

"I did not wake until dawn, ma'am," I answered, evasively, for I had determined, since they let me into no confidence upon the subject of the household mystery, to keep my own counsel in regard to my dream and the open door.

"You slept until dawn. That is well. I hope you will have as good a rest for the few remaining hours of the night. Good-evening, my dear. Lock your door after me," said Mrs. Legare, going out with a look of relief and satisfaction.

As upon the evening previous, I turned the key upon my retiring hostess, listened until I heard her pa.s.s out and secure the hall door, then searched my room, undressed, said my prayers, and went to bed.

As I hinted in the beginning of this narrative, nature had made me at once superst.i.tious and fearless. In the supernatural I "believed without trembling." And now alone, in this supposed-to-be haunted chamber, I lay with an interest devoid of uneasiness, waiting the development of events.