THE HOUSE OF WHITE SHADOWS

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2698, 30 November 1882, Page 4

THE HOUSE OF WHITE SHADOWS

BY B. L. FAKJEON.

Author of 44 Blades-o’-Grass,” 44 Joshua Marvel,” 44 Bread and Cheese and Kisses,” 44 Grif,” 44 London’s Heart,” &c., &c.

The Advocate smiled and shook his head gently. “Mr JBalconibe is given to fantastic expression. If you knew him as well as Ido you would he aware that he is prone to magnify trifles—fond of raising ghosts of the conscience, for the more pleasure of laying them. He suffers keenly, but lam not disposed to pity him on that account. There are men who would be most unhappy unless they suffered.” “My dear sir,” said Jacob Hartrich, following with attention and admiration the Advocate’s words, “ I have known Mr Balcombe since he was a child, and I have loved him almost as one of my own. I knew his father, a gentleman of great attainments, and his mother, a sweet and exquisitely beautiful woman. It is our long friendship that makes me anxious respecting him. We who both hold him in high regard may speak without reserve. A great change has taken place in him since his last visit to me, four years ago. There appears to be something on his mind.” ‘ “ There is something on most men’s minds. I have remarked nothing in Mr Halcomb 3 to cause me uneasiness ; he is the same light-hearted, high-minded gentleman I have ever known him to be. His nature is exquisitely sensitive, responsive to the lightest touch. That may account for the change you observed in him.” “ The thought occurred to me that he might have sustained a monetary loss, but I dismissed it.” “ You were right in doing so, for a monetary loss would exalt rather than depress him. He is rich —it would add to his happiness if he were poor. What are termed misfortunes are sometimes great blessings ; many fine natures are dwarfed by prosperity. Had Arthur Balcombe been born in the lower classes, he would have found a worthy occupation—he would have made a name for himself, and in all probability would have won a wife who would have idolized him. He is a man that a woman might worship.”

“ You have given mo a clue to the change in him,” said Jacob Hartrich; “he has met with a disappointment in love or friendship.” “ I think not; he is open and frank, and hides nothing from mo. Had’he met with such a disappointment I should have heard of it.” Jacob Hartrich, with a courteous motion, dismissed the subject, and inquired whether the Advocate’s stay was likely to be a long one.

“ I have pledged myself,” said the Advocate, i somewhat wearily, “to remain in this part of Switzerland for three months.”

“ Best is a necessary medicine.” The Advocate nodded assent.

“ Pray excuse me while I attend to your affairs. Here are local and other papers.’ He left the room, and returning in a few minutes, found the Advocate engaged in the perusal of a newspaper, in which he appeared to be deeply interested. ‘ Your business,” said Jacob Hartrich, “ will occupy about a quarter of an hour; there are some formalities to be gone through with respect to signatures and stamps. If you are pressed for time, I will send to you at your hotel.” “ With your permission I will wait,” said the Advocate, laying aside the newspaper with an intent and serious expression on his face.

“ You honor me,” said Jacob Hartrich, and glancing at the paper he saw the heading of the column, “ The Murder of Madeline the Flower Girl.”

“ You have been reading this account ?” “ Yes.”

“ Ah! a foul and wicked murder! Where will not the passions of men lead them ?’

“ A wide contemplation. The girl was young.” “ Barely seventeen.” “Pretty ?” “ Very pretty. I have occasionally bought a posy of her, poor child !” “ virtuous!'” "Who can say? I myself believe so, for she was modest and childlike in her demeanor.”

“ I perceive that a man, Gautran, is in prison, charged with the murder.”

“ A man !” exclaimed Jacob Hartrich with indignant warmth, “ a monster rather. Some refined torture should be devised to punish him for his crime.” “ His crime! I have been reading an old paper then.” The Advocate referred to the date. “ No, it is this morning’s.”

“ I see your point; but the proofs of the monster’s guilt are irrofragible.” “You lose sight of the fact,” said the Advocate, whose calm tones were in singular contrast with the animatedtones of the banker, “ that he has to be tried. His guilt or innocence has yet to be established.”

“ The law cannot destroy facts,” remonstrated Jacob Hartrich.”

“ The law establishes facts, which are often in danger of being perverted by man’s sympathies or prejudices. Are you acquainted with this Gautran ?”

“ I have no knowledge of him, except from report.” “ And haring no knowledge of him, except from report, you form an opinion upon hearsay, and condemn |him off-hand. That is not in accordance with the principles of justice. It is stated in the newspaper that the man is repulsive in appearance.” " He is hideous.” “ Then you have seen him ? ”

“No.” “ Calmly consider, and place your own value on your judgment. You say the girl was pretty. Her engaging manners have tempted you to buy posies of her, not always when you needed them. Strong evidence in your mind against a man with a hideous face. This, beauty on one side, and a forbidding countenance on the other, may be made the means of contributing to a direct injustice. The opinion you express of this

man’s guilt may bo entertained by others j to whom Gautran is also a stranger. I 44 My opinion is universal.” 1 44 Gautran, then, is universally con- 1 demnod before he is called upon to answer ■ the charge brought against him.” j • 4 He is a vagabond,” said Jacob Hart- ; rich feebly, feeling as if the ground wore I giving way under his feet, 44 of the lowest : class.” 44 And poor therefore.” 44 Necessarily.” 44 And cannot afford to pay for indepen- j dent legal aid.” 44 It is fortunate ; justice will bo dealt out i to him more surely and swiftly.” 44 You can doubtless call to mind instances | whore innocent persons have been made to suffer." _ 44 There is no fear in the case of Gautran, said the banker, with dogged obstinacy. “ Let us hope not,” said the Advocate, whose voice during the conversation had been perfectly passionless, 44 and in the meantime do not loso sight of the fact that were Gautran the meanest creature that breathes, were he the most repulsive being on earth, he is an innocent man until he is declared guilty by the law. Equally so were he a man gifted with great beauty of person, and bearing an honored name.” At this moment a clerk brought some papers into the room, which, with a roll of notes, Jacob Hartrich delivered to the Advocate, who rose to go. 44 Have you decided upon a permanent address ?” asked the banker. 44 We take up our quarters in the House of White Shadows in Petit Sarconnox.” 44 Mr Balcombe’s villa,” said Jacob Hartrich, in a tone of consternation, 44 uninhabited for years except by servants who have been kept there to prevent it from falling into decay. There are strange stories connected with it.” 44 1 have heard as much, but have not inquired into them. They probably arise from credulity or ignorance, the foundation of all superstition.” With that remark the Advocate took his loave. Chapter 111. FRITZ THE FOOL. As the little wooden clock in the inn of The Seven Liars, struck the hour of five, Fritz the fool rushed through the open door and cried, 44 They are coming—they are coming—and will be here before you can cook me an omelette.” And having thus delivered himself, ran out of the inn to the House of White Shadows, and swinging open the gates, cried still more loudly, 44 Mother Denise! Dionetta ! they are on the road, and will be here a lifetime before old Martin can straighten his crooked back !” Within five minutes of this summons, there stood at the door, of the inn of The Seven Liars, the customers who had been tippling therein, the host and hostess and their three children, and, ten yards off, at the gates of the villa. Mother Denise, her pretty grand-daughter Dionetta, and old Martin, whose breathing came short and quick at the haste he had made to be in time to welcome the Advocate and his wife. The news had spread swiftly, and when the carriage made its appearance at the end of the narrow lane, and toiled slowly up the steep hill, a score or so of the inhabitants of Petit Sarconnex,were gathered together, curious to see the great lord and lady who intended to reside in the haunted house. As the carriage drew up to the gates, the courier who acted as valet to the Advocate, and who was to undertake the general management of the establishment, jumped down from his seat next to the driver, and opened the carriage door. The curious ones pressed forward and gazed with admiration at the beautiful lady, and with awe at the stern-faced gentleman, who had selected the House of Whits Shadows as a holiday residence. For their own parts they would not have engaged themselves to sleep for a week in any one of the rooms in the villa for the value of all the watches in Geneva. There were, however, three persons in the village who had no fears of the house. These were the old housekeeper and her husband Martin and Fritz the fool. Mother Denise had been born there, and was ghost and shadow proof, so was her husband, now in his eighty-fifth year, whose body was like a bent bow, stretched for the flight of the arrow —his soul.

Not for a single night in sixty-eight years had Mother Denise slept outside the walls of the House of White Shadows, and for forty-three years her husband had kept her company, but to them they declared no supernatural visitant had ever appeared. They had no belief whatever in the ghostly signs. Fritz, on the contrary, declared that they came to him frequently. “But I’m not afraid of them, not I,” he said, “ they don’t strike, they don’t speak, they don’t burn. Let them come, and welcome. When they leave a mark upon me I’ll turn against them,” which made him a greater fool than ever in the minds of both believers and unbelievers. “He is himself a ghost,” said the schoolmaster of the village, “ with a fleshly embodiment; ■ that is why the fool is not afraid.”

Truly Fritz the fool was ghostlike in appearance, for the skin of his face was singularly white, and however strong the sun it had not the power to tan it, and his head was covered with shaggy white hair, which hung low down upon his shoulders. From a distance he looked like an old man, hut he had not reached his thirtieth year, and so clear were hia eyes and features that on a closer observance he might have been taken for a lad of half the years he bore. Dionetta did not share his defiance of ghostly visitors. The House of White Shadows was her home, and many and many a night had she awoke in terror, and listened with a beating heart to the soft footsteps in the passage outside her room, and buried her head in the sheets to shut out the light of the moon which shone in at her window. Very timid and fearful of the supernatural was this country beauty, whom all the louts in the neighborhood were eager to marry, and she alone, of those who had lived for years in the House of White Shadows, welcomed the Advocate and his wife with genuine delight. Fool Fritz thought of secretly-enjoyed pleasures which might now bo disturbed, Martin was too old not to dislike change, and Mother Denise, although exceedingly deferential in her greeting, was by no means prepared to rejoice at the arrival of strangers. Things wore well enough before they came, and Mother Denise would have been better pleased had they never shown their faces at the gates. The Advocate and his wife stood looking around them, he with observant eyes and in silence, she with undisguised pleasure and admiration. She began to speak the moment she alighted. “ Charming! beautiful! I am in love with it already. Could anything be more perfect ? so quiet, and peaceful, and sweet P Look at those children peeping from behind their mother’s gown dirty, but how picturesque !—and the mother herself, is she not a picture ? What could have been the reason why Mr Balcombe never lived here? it is inexplicable—quite inexplicable. I could be happy here for ever. Do you catch the perfume of the limes ? it delicious delicious ! It comes from the grounds—there must be a lime-tree walk there; and you,” she said to the pretty girl at the gates, “ You are Dionetta.” “ Yes, my lady,” said Dionetta, and wondered how her name could have become known to the beautiful lady, whose face was more lovely than the face of the Madonna in the tiny chapel of Petit Sarconnex. It was not difficult to divine her thought, for Dionetta was nature’s child. “ You are woudcring who told me your name,” said the Advocate’s wife. “ Yes, my lady.” “ A little bird, Dionetta.” “A little bird, my lady!” exclaimed Dionetta, her wonderment and admiration growing fast into worship. The lady’s graceful figure, her pink and white face, her pearly teeth, her lovely mouth, her eyes, blue as the most beautiful summer’s cloud —Dionetta had never seen the like before. “And you,” said the Advocate’s wife, turning to the grandmother, “ are Mother Denise.” “ Yes, my lady,” replied the old woman. “ This is my husband Martin.” “ I know, I know,” said the Advocate’s wife, all graciousness. “My little bird was very communicative, you are Fritz.” “ The fool,” said the white haired young man, “ Fritz the fool. Don’t mistrust me on that account. I can be faithful if I care to be. I was told you were coming.” “ Indeed,” said the Advocate’s wife, with an air of pleasant surprise. “By whom, and when P ” By whom ? the white shadows. When ? night after night in my dreams.” ( To be continued. j