LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2420, 7 January 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

BONNIE MELVILLE. A Eomahcb or Hailowe’en. Written by James Wight for the "Now York Clipper.” Thb knowledge of the following remarkable lustrum in Bonnie Melville’s career was communicated to me by the lady herself on the Hallowe’en night, several years ago, when she bade farewell to the stage, and nnxt morning—All Saint’s Day—became the wife of the worthy man who had loved her since childhood. When she was eighteen, Miss Melville was sojourning with a wealthy maiden annt in Scotland who suffered from ill-health. Daring the summer the annt and her pretty niece had resided at Inverlelthen, a score of miles south of Edinburgh and the ‘ St. Renan’s Well’ of Sir Waiter Scott. As the old lady had derived much benefit from drinking the spa water, the thirty-first of October still found the ladies inmates of the commodious hostelry over whose earlier and humbler destiny the redoubtable Meg Dods is said to have presided. Of course Hallowe’en could not be permitted to pass without due observance. There was a Jolly party of young girls, all under twenty ; and when Miss Melville the elder retired, Bonnie Leslie and the rest proceeded to try their fortunes in the usnal apple ducking, nut burning ceremonies immortalized by Robert Burns. As was inevitable, they all laughed a great deal, and teased one another, and were aa fall of fun and mischief as a nest of young birds. Somehow the tests didn’t work satisfactorily. None of the beneficent tribes of fairies seemed to be around. Bmnle Leslie had sown hemp reed and invited her true love to come after her, without avail. She had eaten an apple in a mirror in a lonely room, and no shadowy sweetheart had gazed over her shoulder. * I wonder some of you lassies dinna take a walk to Honan’s Burn and dip you sleeve.’ suggested the lady, who was directress of the ceremonies under protest, yet fearful lest her wealthy lodger upstairs should hear of of her ‘ barnlshnesa.’

There was a sudden lull in the frolics, and with one accord the gir’a drew aside the curtains and peered out of the window. There was a pale three-quarter moon struggling in a mass of fleecy, driving, white clouds, but the night was mild and pleasant. 4 1 don’t think ’three lairds’ lands meet’ on Honan’s Burn, and the test would be no use,' said one young lady. 4 Yer mistaken, lassie,’ quote the landlady; 4 three lairds’ lands meet at the Clattering Brig, and nee mistake.’ 4 The Clattering Brig 1 ’ cried Bonnie Leslie. ‘That’s where Mowbray crowed with his horse in Scott’s novel; I have a great mind to walk there; it would be so romantic. Now, girls, who’ll join me?’ They all declined with alacrity. Some had colds, others wore afraid of the nightair, and others preferred the warm fireside. 4 1 don’t care 1’ cried Bonnie Leslie, 4 I’m going ; our family motto is ‘ Without Fear ;’ and hastily donning her hat, shawl and gloves, and calling 4 Chief,’ the big, shaggy staghound, she departed, singing to a tune, extemporized as she walked, the verse from 4 Hallowe’en’ which records the misadventure of an errand similar to her own :

‘ Amang the brackens on the brae, Between her and the moon, The Deil, or else an cutler quey. Oat up and gao a croon : Poor Lizzie’s heart maist lap the hool; Near lav’rook height she jumpit; But mist a fit, and in the pool Ont-owre the ears she plnmplt, Wi’ plunge that night.’ The strong, handsome girl was not in the least afraid as she stepped down to the Brig with graceful, firm, elastic steps ; but probably there was just a sense of eerleneas in her imagination when she heard the old clock of Inverleithen peal out the hour of ten. However, with ‘Chief’ watching and evidently wondering at her heels, she approached the wlmpling stream, and dipped her sleeve in its sparkling waters. At that instant she experienced a sensation as if countless wings were sweeping by, and as if shadowy faces surrounded her, grinning and sneering and mocking. The air became suddenly heavy, and she felt as if she could scarcely breathe. Bursts of elfin laughter seemed to ring in her ears, and she heard her own name distinctly pronounced— ‘ Augusta Melville !’—two successive times. Just then ‘Chief,’ with uplifted nose, uttered three distinct, slowly, measured barks behind her. She turned quickly around. The animal was trembling. Not a eoul was visible. With a prolonged whine the brute started off, and ran clean home at the top of bis speed. The young lady was not alaremd, bat she was fascinated, and the tension of every sense was abnormally intensified. She kept looking round for a minute or so ; for the moon was now shining brightly and nnobsoured. There'was nobody to be seen ; and, pondering over her strange experience, she

walked briskly back to the hotel. Before she had got half-way to St. Ronan’a Well, she met the landlady and her stout servant girl, coming to meet her. 1 When 1 Chief cam.baok, we were feared something had happened ye,’ said the former in explanation. ‘Nothing whatever happened,' answered Miss Melville ; ‘ bat you see that whoever depends on ‘ Chief for protection will lean on a broken reed.’ ‘ Chief being the subject of the lady’s constant laudation, this response had the effect intended—it prevented further interrogation. When Bonnie Melville retired for the night, she made up her mind to carry out the remaining portion of the spell. For, if the truth must be told, she was very much in love with Guy Wentworth, an English landowner's son ; and she was not free from the suspicion that be might have followed her to Scotland, and played her some trick at the brookslde. It Is not unusual for young ladies to make themselves the willing slaves of the moat obvious delusions ; and, at this time, Bonnie Melville was not free from this kind of romantic weakness. A cheerful coal fire burnt in the grate In her bedroom, and she hung her wet sleeve before It to dry, as immemorial Hallowe’en tradition has ordained. Then she went to bed, resolved to lie awake for an hour or so, not so much in expectation of seeing the shadowy form of Guy Wentworth oome and ‘turn the sleeve as if to dry it,’ as for the purpose of seeing the end of the exciting experiment. ‘ The best laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft aglee.’ The room was warm and cosy, and the night air, added to a drop of whiskey punch she had been constrained to take after her return from Clattering Brig, had induced unusual drowsiness. Bonnie Melville fell asleep and slumbered for an unknown apace, like a tired infant. By-and-bye she opened her eyes with the refreshed feeling that comes with morning. But it was not dawn. The bright embers of the fire still gave the room a lurid illumination. She hed turned over in her sleep, and she now turned back to 100k —at the fire, as she Intended What she beheld was a man—a man bending over her garment aa it bung on the towel rail, and turning it aa it to dry it 1 the stirred her toes and her fingers to satisfy herself that she was not dreaming. She was unmistakably wide awake. The three quarter profile of the Intruder was towards her. He was a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, handsome looking young man, quite unlike Guy Wentworth, He looked at her, smiling derisively and sarcastically. ‘ Who are yon, sir ? Leave the room this instant !'

Her voice sounded hollow and strange in her ear. Outside * Chief ’ began to bark dolefully. 4 Leave the room, villain!’ she yelled, tagging the bellrope at her bed-head. The visitor smiled pleasantly, burst into a short laugh, and, when the bell began its din, said : 4 Good night, Bonnie Melville,’ and disappeared—how, she had no idea. She felt a hot blast across her neck, and she fancied she saw two fiery points where the eyes had been, looking at her through the dim light. The landlady, her aunt, and others were speedily at the door. It was looked inside, and before she had risen to open it she had resolved to keep her secret to herself. Yet she only half succeeded, as we shall see. ‘ I wss dreaming,’ she said in explanation, ' and a pert young man called me " Bonnie Melville !” and I was annoyed and thought I rang the bell to dismiss him,’ ‘Bonnie Melville!’lndeed ! What next?’ cried the spinster aunt. 4 Well, that must have been a real nice Hallowe’en dream, at any rate,’ the landlady afterwards whispered. In this extraordinary way the young lady came to be designated ‘Bonnie Melville,’ although her friends have hitherto attributed its origin to a dream, as originally represented.

After that night Bonnie Melville’s existence assumed a new and deplorable phase. The strange presence of this weird Hallowe’en shade was perpetually manifested to her, only leaving her at brief intervals by day or night. Often, when she awoke from wild dreams, she would see the fiery eyes In the darkness, and hear the low laugh, followed by the words 4 Bonnie Melville.’ The Presence came between her and her love Guy Wentworth, turning her affection to coldness and ultimately to ntter|Jindifference. As the two families of Melville and Wentworth had seen with deep approval the love between the young people, the sudden change on the part of the lady was a heavy disappointment. Bat she could not help her feeling—the Shade was always busy at her brain, busy at her heart. She became so transformed towards her parents, so ill natured, overbearing and disobedient, that one day when she announced her determination to study for the stage, her father coldly responded; 4 As things have turned, it doesn’t make much matter to your mother and me what you do, Augusta,’ Bonnie Melville’s stage career dates from that parental answer. Her first appearance took place in the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, in “ The Flowers of the Forest.” At school ■he had evinced fine histrionic abilities, and behind the footlights her success was us immediate as it was assured. In two years she was recognised as a star in such roles as Mrs Bracegirdle was accustomed to assume, and even her parents began to feel pride in her reputation. Beautiful in feature, lovely in form, Junoesque in her bearing, her full, rioh, musical voice, natural manner, and unaffected style immediately won the public. Her private life was irreproachable, and It was popularly believed that she nursed a secret sorrow. But she opened her heart to no one; and consequently nobody ever sobpeoted that the triumphant actress was banded, as it were, to an unsubstantial yet real phantom, whose voice was ever in her ear, whose form was ever by her side, whose eyes sought hers out of the darkness, like points of red fire. How long she could have succeeded in bearing, withont complaint, her cross of suffering it would be vain to speculate. She herself fett that it was wearing her away. Her friends had observed an unfavorable change in her appearance, and warned her to take care of her health. At times she thought of consulting Dr Forbes Winslow, imagining shat she was the victim of a hallucination. An event, however, occurred, about this time, which removed her affliction from the region of medical or psychological speculation, and placed it in the domain of actual fact.

When Mr Phelps began h!a series of Shakespearian revivals at Sadler’s Wells, Bonnie Melville was engaged to play Rosalind In ‘ As Yon Like It.’ The rehearsals had been conducted with extraordinary care and diligence, and every person in the piece was drilled up to the highest point of his Individual capacity, when, at the last moment as it were, Bonnie Melville suggested to the manager that a more athletic person ought to play the brief part of Charles the wrestler. ‘That is a most excellent Idea 1’ responded Phelps, *1 will act on it at once.’ Consequently, on the first night of the piece the bills contained two lines of about equal prominence which were : Rosalind ... Miss Augusta Melville Charles the wrestler ... Tom Kynaston Trainer of the Oxford University Rowing Club, Bonnie Melville never rehearsed with Tom Kynaston ; bnt as she rode to the theatre the opening night she noticed that she felt in really exuberant spirits, and confident of success. At the entrance of Rosalind and Celia in the second scene the following lines occur; * Celia—l pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz., be merry.’ ‘Rob —Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would yon yet I were merrier ?’ She had proceeded thus far when a low laugh reached her from the wings—a laugh that thrilled through her like an electric current, and she halted noticeably before she could command herself sufficiently to go on with her lines. The wrestling scene introduced Tom Kynaaton. Where had she seen that handsome, dark face before P She was all eye for Charles—lt was with an effort she looked at Orlando, When aha said : ‘ Now Hercules be thy speed, young man !’ the lines were not intended for Orlando, bnt for Charles the wrestler. Daring the piece she was in a condition of Intense exaltation, for, as he was leaving the stage, Tom Kynaston had looked at her and smUed. With that smile came light and

revelation. Tom Kynaiton vu her phantom I Tom Kynaston had been her companion for four years 1 She did’nt know whether to feel glad or humiliated. He was certainly handsome —tall, dark and Hermea-like, and ■be played at him all that night, and surpassed herself. She rode home in a condition of Bemibeatificatlon. She was no longer conscious of the Voice or the Form. The dumb sensation of terror was no longer present in her mind. Never before had the cheerfully lighted blinds of her drawing room looked so inviting as on that night when the carriage drove her up to her door. Entering, she dismissed her maid and housekeeper for the night, and flew, rather than walked, up stairs. She felt that a new era in her life had eventuated, and she wanted to contemplate It in all its bearings alone. She threw open the drawing room door, and lo ! she was not alone. Tom Kynaston sat on the ottoman exactly opposite the door, where she stood and gazed, speechless and bewildered. • You Bonnie Melville,’ he said, rising and advancing to meet her ; * you cannot understand how 1 gained admittance. You ought to know by this time that love laughs at locksmiths.’ Impudent and extraordinary as this speech was, Bonnie Melville’s respose was quite as remarkable in its way. ‘ Yon t tlk like an old acquaintance,’ she said. *So I am, as you know,’ he answered, offering his hand. She took it, and they sat down and talked, as if they had been old friends. It is not necessary, nor, indeed, expedient, to reproduce their conversation here. Suffice to say that he had seen her somewhere when she was a lovely girl of seventeen, and swore a terrible oath \o make her his wife. How he had invoked the ‘Black Art,’ and influenced her conduct and course in life ; and how * inevitable Destiny’ had brought them together, 1 for good or evil’—such was the burden of the blood-curdling story which she listened to, and believed and acted on. In fine, the superb woman whom he had dubbed Bonnie Melville in hia own mind years before became hia willing wife. Their union lasted a twelvemonth —a twelvemonth of indescribable misery and wretchedness, so far as she was concerned. It came to an end almost as weirdly as it had begun. Mr and Mrs Kynaston were at St. Honsn’s Well by his express desire to spend Hallowe’en, He insisted that he ‘ must be there’—that some • master power was drawing him thither,’ When nine o’clock came he mounted his horse and said he was going to visit the spot at which he first manifested himself to his wife He never returned. The brook had become a resistless torrent by recent rains, and in attempting to cross it at the ford he had been swept below the rooks, where horse and rider perished. Bonnie Melville returned to the stage, and achieved wealth as well as fame. Finally, however, she consented to make Guy Wentworth happy, and they are now said to live in luxurious retlr ament near Edinburgh.