LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 759, 25 November 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

LADY CREIGHTON. ‘Yes, it’s a queer looking old place, and queer things happen there, I’ve heard. Things that don’t seem much in this bright sunshine, but which would make a man’s flesh creep if he saw and heard them over there in the dead of night.’ ‘So!’ ‘ So it is, sir, and people shun the place as they would the plague. ’ ‘I should like to visit it. What say you, Falkland ? ’ And my travelling companion, Colonel Elton, turned toward me with something of the battle Are lighting bis stern face.

‘ I’m not afraid of ghosts,’ I answered. * Good ! Neither am I.’ Then addressing the German peasant; ‘ Can we get at the keys and secure the services of a fellow not afraid of sighing gust of wind at midnight ? ’ The peasant shook his head in condemnation of the light tones, saying, as he did so : ‘ There’s no need of keys, sir. A storm crashed one of the old doors in more than a year since, and you can go and come as you like. But if you want a good, brave fellow to guide you and stand by you through thick and thin, my brother Franz is the one for you : and he’ll go backed by a hound that fears nothing human, ’ ‘ Very good. We’ll investigate this mystery to-night.’ It was nearing dusk when we reached the irregular old structure which had attracted our attention earlier in the day. Perched high amid rock and forest, its aspect was eminently forbidding, though the extensive grounds still gave evidence of a former care and taste which must have relieved the place of much of its sombre wildness. As we wandered through the labyrinthine halls and rooms, other evidences of bygone luxury met our eyes in remnants of faded carpets and stray pieces of furniture, elegant enough to have graced a palace. And these proofs of the last tenant’s hasty flight were to be found in every direction. One room on the first floor had scarcely been disturbed, and in this we finally decided to bestow ourselves and the hamper which Franz had guarded with a cure that sufficiently expressed his regard for its contents. Once ablaze with firelight and candlelight the room looked a cheery place in which to await ghostly sights and sounds ; and we discussed the contents of the above-mentioned hamper, trusting that our mundane comforts might not scare away the nocturnal visitants of whom we had heard.

‘ Franz,’ said the Colonel, sipping with critical taste the glass of hock now and then raised between his eye and the light: ‘Franz, I think you told me the last residents here were English.’ ‘ Yes, sir. A titled lady, with her two daughters—one a child, and an army of servants. Sometimes they were seen abroad, but not often ; and after a time the young lady was never seen at all.’ ‘ How long did they reside here ? ’ * A year, I believe, though it may have been more or less. ’Twas whispered that they ran away from what we’ve come to look

up. And I’m thinking something took them off in a hurry, seeing how they left things behind them.’

‘ It might seem so,’ returned the Colonel, glancing reflectively behind him. ‘ And— ’ ‘ Hush ! 5 I exclained, raising a warning hand. ‘ What was that? ’

There succeeded a dead silence, broken only by Nature’s quiet voice out in the forest.

* Your fertile imagination, my dear fellow,’ at last laughed the Colonel, emptying his glass. ‘ Not so ! ’ I exclaimed, as we all sprang to our feet at a louder repetition of the sound which had arrested my attention a minute before. ‘ ’Twas a woman’s voice—a voice that I know! ’ cried the Colonel, snatching up a candle and dashing from the room. ‘lt came from the hall above,’ he shouted back, as Franz and I prepared to follow him.

‘ Stop ! ’ exclaimed Franz, as we reached the door. * Look at the poor brute ! ’ pointto his boasted pet, crouching in the extremity of terror under a low couch by the fire. * Come Fury ! Come !’ he called, but a whine was the only response, and we joined the Colonel alone. ‘lt’s nothing human, Herr Colonel, you needn’t look,’ said Franz, solemnly, as with ashy cheeks and lips my friend darted from chamber to chamber.

As he spoke, the same heart-rending wail —sweet as mournful—echoed through the halls, and died away in some remote corner of the building. ‘ Higher ! higher ! ’ cried the Colonel, taking the steps two at a time. * Nina ! Nina !My darling—my love ! lam here, Nina! ’ he shouted, as the hall was reached.

Horror filled my soul. Had my friend gone mad ? I looked at Franz. His eyes plainly spoke my own unexpressed fear. No voice answered the Colonel’s impassioned call, yet with frantic grief he prosecuted his vain search, tearing away moth-eaten hangings, sounding the walls and beating the floors, despite our entreaties and arguments. At last we got him down to the room we had entered so incredulously a few hours previous. He sank into a seat, despairing woe marked on every lineament. ‘ Drink it, Herr Colonel,’ begged Franz, placing a brimming glass against the set lips ; adding, as it was taken and drained : ‘ Shall we leave the cursed place, sir ? ’ ‘ You can leave if you wish, but I shall remain till this awful mystery is solved,’ muttering to himself as he again sank into that woeful silence, * There’s been foul play, just as I suspected.’ Directly he looked up, demanding abruptly, ‘ Franz, was the lady’s, name Creighton ? Lady Creighton ? ’ Franz answered promptly: ‘For the life of me I couldn’t tell the name. But there ! do you hear that, sir ? ’ he whispered, a grey hue settling about his mouth.' ‘ Those wheels always roll up here at midnight, and then the worst comes. Heaven help us ! ’ Colonel Elton had started to his feet at the first sound, and we stood breathless listeners to the rolling wheels and ringing hoofs. On they came, nearer—nearer, halting, at last, at the main entrance. With one accord we caught up and lighted the torches lying at hand, and rushed into the hall just in time to see the great door roll open with a heavy clang, and hear the dull tramp of heavy feet and the soft rustle of silken gowns. Close beside us the weird unseen company passed, crossing the hall to the stairs, and then up, step by step. Half paralysed I stood gazing into vacancy till Elton’s smothered command aroused me.

‘ Come ! Where they go Igo ! ’ And step by step we followed—up to the hall above, and then to the next. Not a word—nothing but that dull tramp and the silken rustle. It was frightful ? Yet on the Colonel strode evidently undisturbed by the terrors that shook Franz and me, a mute anguish and unfaltering purpose breathing through every glance and movement. That some terrible grief had once swept his life, rumour had long before whispered ; and I was half unconsciously speculating on it, associating the unknown past with the strange present, when a dead hush fell, ended instantly by the most appalling shriek that ever smote human ears. Just there in front of us it arose, dying away in the same prolonged, mournful wail we had first heard. A strange guttural murmur, a hurried rush of feet, a chilling blast of wind, and we stood in total darkness. As Franz clutched wildly at my arm, the Colonel’s voice rang as clear as a bugle in the frenzied cry : ‘ Nina ! Poor dove, lam coming ! ’ Then, as the truth seemed to strike him, he groaned : ‘ Heaven help me ! Am I mad ? Alas ! she is dead ! ’

Scarcely had the words left his lips when a low fiendish laugh, which each of ui could have sworn was breathed close to his own ear, curdled the blood in our veins. Even the Colonel was struck with horror. A sharp ejaculation escaped his lips, and it was in hoarse, unsteady accents that he bade us relight the torches if we had the means. But even as he spoke a vivid, lambent light shone about us, revealing the tall, slender figure of a woman, whose dark, rich beauty was set off to exquisite advantage by a heavy black satin robe, with broad, trailing crimson cincture, and knots of the same ruddy hue burning under diamond fastenings in the jetty hair, and at the graceful throat.

She stood at the end of the hall, one slender hand gliding over the adorning frescoes; one little crimson-slippered loot pressed hard against the woodwork below. With panting breath and glittering eye Colonel Elton bent forward, watching till the seeming wall fell slowly back. Then he sprang forward, shouting fiercely : ‘ Lady Creighton ! Demon ! Fiend !’ We only saw a spasm of pain contract the beautiful features—a swift hand raised toward the door, and all was darkness. Hurriedly relighting our torches we approached the wall; but our eager hands had scarcely touched its frescoes when the low wail of a harp struck us motionless. A few wandering chords - a few bewilder - iugly sweet and mournful strains, and then there rose a full, perfect melody, swelling gradually into a harmonious tempest that every instant approached nearer and nearer. Like great tidal waves it dashed up to our feet, and then receded slowly, only to sweep back and again and encompass us in a weird storm of melodious sounds. To and fro it swept—to and fro, to and fro. Franz was the first to shake off the spell that bound us.

*lt comes from this wall!’ he exclaimed. ‘ Let’s break it in—there’s no good behind it!’ The Colonel started an if from a dream.

‘Waitl We’ll first search among these frescoes, pressing a foot as she did,’ he answered hoarsely. We found the secret springs, but whether hours or minutes were consumed by the task I cannot say. As the door swung open the grand melody wavered, shivering into wild, fitful gusts that drifted sweetly away till the far distance had swallowed every sound. And in a silence almost as weird as the music, we traversed the long narrow passage and winding stairs up to three chambers with iron-bound doors and high grated windows.

All the belongings of a lady’s drawingroom, bed-chamber, and boudoir were scattered through these rooms, and many tokens of a vanished presence. No dismantling hand had ever been here.

Paintings garnished the walls ; richlybound volumes lay heaped in pretty confusion on the tables ; a harp, 'with broken, rusted strings, and a quaint chair beside it, stood just as the musician had left it. Under the lace and velvet hangings of the couch was the imprint of a human form. Even the gem-studded brush beneath the dressing mirror spoke of some fair woman in a few long golden threads which Colonel Elton drew out with tender hand, and pressed to his lips in a passion of love and grief, f To be continued .l