LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume V, Issue 550, 23 March 1876, Page 2

LITERATURE.

CHANTRY MANOR HOUSE. A Ghost Story. BY MRS HARTLEY, AUTHOR OF * HILDA AND I,’ ETC. CHAPTER I. It was a very old house—a Gothic building of the fifteenth century. It had been kept in tolerable repair from generation to generation ; and in those portions where the hand of man had been idle, the clinging ivy lovirgly concealed many a cleft and cranny in the old time-worn pile. It had been tenantless often, and for very long periods. Many who had gone to view it objected to the tangled neglected shrubberies, interspersed with fir and larch, which surrounded it so closely as to be suggestive of damp ; and still more to the moat, now overhung with willows, and across which stretched branches of oaks, while the stagnant water, green with weeds and rushes, had gradually rotted the trellised palings at its head—and as they had fallen, so they had been allowed to lie ; for no one had ever lived there loug enough to care to lay out any money upon the grounds ; and the owner, who resided abroad, was quite satisfied to believe that an old woman inhabited the house (which she did not), and kept fires enough to preserve the few family portraits and the miserable furniture which he had left in it.

I, reader, am a retired Bengal civilian, who, having tasted the sweets of English sports during my few holidays spent in the old country, determined that my first act on retirement should be to settle myself in a country house in a good huntieg neighbourhood.

Parsimony had been my ‘ favourite virtue’ when I was in India, earning my four thousand rupees a month ; and the tendency to it was naturally not lessened when I had to live upon my pension of one thousand pounds per annum. Of course I had savings, but they w ere sacred (as yet, at any rate) ; and no sooner did I read the advertisement of ‘ a very desirable manor house to be let, in the centre of the hunt, with several acres of land included, at an almost nominal rent,’ that I pounced upon it then and there, not even taking the precaution (so fearful was I of losing such a bargain) of g. iug to see the place in question. My wife was in delicate health, and somewhat indolent from a long residence in India, so that she was content to leave all plans and arrangements to me exclusively; and when I informed her I had taken Chantry Manor house on a lease of three, seven, or fourteen years, she was pleased because I appeared to be so, and looked forward with a little languid excitement to her new home. I was slightly nervous the day we drove up to take possession. The month of October was drawing to a close, and the day was cold and stormy ; the wind was whistling through the old trees in the avenue, and driving the brown and yellow leaves before us in gusts, The entrance to the house faced the north-west, and as the carriage drew up a blinding storm came on, and we entered our new abode anything but cheerily. We found ourselves in a large square hall, - the floor of polished oak ; a little to the left was an oaken staircase, polished also, bare and gloomy. Not a vestige of carpet, not even a mat anywhere. A good deal of armoury our landlord’s ancestor’s had evidently been warriors—breatplates, helmets, cutlasses, and daggers, rusty with time and neglect—adorned the walls ; whilst here and there a stag’s head, with huge antlers and staring glass eyes, looked down upon us. The servant was occupied bringing in cloaks and parcels from the carriage; and, after standing helplessly for a few seconds, we, guided by a flickering firelight, pushed open a door and beheld our drawing-room. It was dreary enough. Very large, with three windows, against which the rain was beating, shaded with curtains of a sickly faded drab ; a threadbare Brusseis carpet, from which all colour had long departed; some cld-fashioned upright chai's, a sofa, a couple of arm-chairs, a large round table, and two massive cabinets completed the furniture. We walked into it, looked round, shivered, spake never, a word, and, by mutual consent, walked out again, as if to explore farther, but both knew that each walked away to hide a feeling of intense disappointment, almost dismay. Twilight was gathering fast, but it was not yet too dark for us to see our future residence ; and, opening a door at the foot of the staircase we entered the library. It smelt damp and musty from the old books which it contained ; but it was small, which was an improvement upon the drawing-room and the book cases and writing table gave it a more habitable and furnished look.

‘ This room might perhaps be made to look home like with a great deal done to it/ said my wife, breaking the silence for the first time; and the words and tone of voice in which they were uttered spoke volumes of her first impressions of the home to which I had brought her. Folding-doors at the end of this apartment led into the dining-room, where a fire had been lighted to greet us. Its windows looked south, on to a small flower-garden and bowling-green, which doubtless on a fine day would be a very pleasant prospect. Anyway the aspect of this room made us more hopeful and cheery. We agreed it was * not so bad after all, and then we went up-stairs.

On the first landing my wife’s maid— Trevor by name—met us with a candle, looking a little glum and dissatisfied, which I hope proceeded from her self-denial and consequent suffering in having gone up-staira to see to her mistress’s bedroom before partaking of her own tea, which in some mysterious way is always ready for the domestic portion of the establishment when they come * off a journey.’ We had sent on some servants to prepare for us, and to the housemaid had been leffr the selection of our apartments. We followed our leader (by no means sorry for the light), along a sor t of corridor, hung with grim old family portraits, at the end of which were two or three steps, and then a recess, in which were a bedroom and sittingroom. not en suite, but the doors facing each other. The furniture in the bedroom was of a most forbidding description. A fourlooking like a hearse, with its heavy j draperies ; the walls covered with faded ! tapestry, and a looking glass in a carved oak frame, reaehing from the ceiling almost to the ground. This was the state apjirtmeufe evidently. j (2b ie continued.)