"True, worthy sir - right as a judicious exposition. But there was
something about this man (if he was a man) whom I, for one, could not
look upon without trembling; nor the musketeers, - who were in the hall,
without betraying much alarm, and swallowing, as they will themselves
aver, the very bullets - which they had in their mouths for loading their
carabines and muskets. Nay, the wolf and deer-dogs, that are the
fiercest of their kind, fled from this visitor, and crept into holes and
corners, moaning and wailing in a low and broken tone. He came into the
middle of the hall, and still he seemed no more than an ordinary man,
only somewhat fantastically dressed, in a doublet of black velvet pinked
upon scarlet satin under his cloak, a jewel in his ear, with large roses
in his shoes, and a kerchief in his hand, which he sometimes pressed
against his left side."
"Gracious Heavens!" said Wildrake, coming close up to Everard, and
whispering in his ear, with accents which terror rendered tremulous, (a
mood of mind most unusual to the daring man, who seemed now overcome by
it) - "it must have been poor Dick Robison the player, in the very dress
in which I have seen him play Philaster - ay, and drunk a jolly bottle
with him after it at the Mermaid! I remember how many frolics we had
together, and all his little fantastic fashions. He served for his old
master, Charles, in Mohun's troop, and was murdered by this butcher's
dog, as I have heard, after surrender, at the battle of Naseby-field."
"Hush! I have heard of the deed," said Everard; "for God's sake hear the
man to an end. - Did this visitor speak to thee, my friend?"
"Yes, sir, in a pleasing tone of voice, but somewhat fanciful in the
articulation, and like one who is speaking to an audience as from a bar
or a pulpit, more than in the voice of ordinary men on ordinary matters.
He desired to see Major-General Harrison."
"He did! - and you," said Everard, infected by the spirit of the time,
which, as is well known, leaned to credulity upon all matters of
supernatural agency, - "what did you do?"
"I went up to the parlour, and related that such a person enquired for
him. He started when I told him, and eagerly desired to know the man's
dress; but no sooner did I mention his dress, and the jewel in his ear,
than he said, 'Begone! tell him I will not admit him to speech of me.
Say that I defy him, and will make my defiance good at the great battle
in the valley of Armageddon, when the voice of the angel shall call all
fowls which fly under the face of heaven to feed on the flesh of the
captain and the soldier, the warhorse and his rider. Say to the Evil
One, I have power to appeal our conflict even till that day, and that in
the front of that fearful day he will again meet with Harrison.' I went
back with this answer to the stranger, and his face was writhed into
such a deadly frown as a mere human brow hath seldom worn. 'Return to
him,' he said, 'and say it is MY HOUR, and that if he come not instantly
down to speak with me, I will mount the stairs to him. Say that I
COMMAND him to descend, by the token, that, on the field of Naseby, _he
did not the work negligently_.'"
"I have heard," whispered Wildrake - who felt more and more strongly the
contagion of superstition - "that these words were blasphemously used by
Harrison when he shot my poor friend Dick."
"What happened next?" said Everard. "See that thou speakest the truth."
"As gospel unexpounded by a steeple-man," said the Independent; "yet
truly it is but little I have to say. I saw my master come down, with a
blank, yet resolved air; and when he entered the hall and saw the
stranger, he made a pause. The other waved on him as if to follow, and
walked out at the portal. My worthy patron seemed as if he were about to
follow, yet again paused, when this visitant, be he man or fiend,
re-entered, and said, 'Obey thy doom.
'By pathless march by greenwood tree,
It is thy weird to follow me -
To follow me through the ghastly moonlight -
To follow me through the shadows of night -
To follow me, comrade, still art thou bound;
I conjure thee by the unstaunch'd wound -
I conjure thee by the last words I spoke
When the body slept and the spirit awoke,
In the very last pangs of the deadly stroke.'
"So saying, he stalked out, and my master followed him into the wood. - I
followed also at a distance. But when I came up, my master was alone,
and bearing himself as you now behold him."
"Thou hast had a wonderful memory, friend," said the Colonel, coldly,
"to remember these rhymes in a single recitation - there seems something
of practice in all this."
"A single recitation, my honoured sir?" exclaimed the Independent -
"alack, the rhyme is seldom out of my poor master's mouth, when, as
sometimes haps, he is less triumphant in his wrestles with Satan. But it
was the first time I ever heard it uttered by another; and, to say
truth, he ever seems to repeat it unwillingly, as a child after his
pedagogue, and as it was not indited by his own head, as the Psalmist
saith."
"It is singular," said Everard; - "I have heard and read that the spirits
of the slaughtered have strange power over the slayer; but I am
astonished to have it insisted upon that there may be truth in such
tales. Roger Wildrake - what art thou afraid of, man? - why dost thou
shift thy place thus?"
"Fear? it is not fear - it is hate, deadly hate. - I see the murderer of
poor Dick before me, and - see, he throws himself into a posture of
fence - Sa - sa - say'st thou, brood of a butcher's mastiff? thou shalt not
want an antagonist."
Ere any one could stop him, Wildrake threw aside his cloak, drew his
sword, and almost with a single bound cleared the distance betwixt him
and Harrison, and crossed swords with the latter, as he stood
brandishing his weapon, as if in immediate expectation of an assailant.
Accordingly, the Republican General was not for an instant taken at
unawares, but the moment the swords clashed, he shouted, "Ha! I feel
thee now, thou hast come in body at last. - Welcome! welcome! - the sword
of the Lord and of Gideon!"
"Part them, part them!" cried Everard, as he and Tomkins, at first
astonished at the suddenness of the affray, hastened to interfere.
Everard, seizing on the cavalier, drew him forcibly backwards, and
Tomkins contrived, with risk and difficulty, to master Harrison's sword,
while the General exclaimed, "Ha! two to one - two to one! - thus fight
demons." Wildrake, on his side, swore a dreadful oath, and added,
"Markham, you have cancelled every obligation I owed you - they are all
out of sight - gone, d - n me!"
"You have indeed acquitted these obligations rarely," said Everard, "Who
knows how this affair shall be explained and answered?"
"I will answer it with my life," said Wildrake.
"Good now, be silent," said Tomkins, "and let me manage. It shall be so
ordered that the good General shall never know that he hath encountered
with a mortal man; only let that man of Moab put his sword into the
scabbard's rest, and be still."
"Wildrake, let me entreat thee to sheathe thy sword," said Everard,
"else, on my life, thou must turn it against me."
"No, 'fore George, not so mad as that neither, but I'll have another day
with him."
"Thou, another day!" exclaimed Harrison, whose eye had still remained
fixed on the spot where he found such palpable resistance. "Yes, I know
thee well; day by day, week by week, thou makest the same idle request,
for thou knowest that my heart quivers at thy voice. But my hand
trembles not when opposed to thine - the spirit is willing to the combat,
if the flesh be weak when opposed to that which is not of the flesh."
"Now, peace all, for Heaven's sake," - said the steward Tomkins; then
added, addressing his master, "there is no one here, if it please your
Excellency, but Tomkins and the worthy Colonel Everard."
General Harrison, as sometimes happens in cases of partial insanity,
(that is, supposing his to have been a case of mental delusion,) though
firmly and entirely persuaded of the truth of his own visions, yet was
not willing to speak on the subject to those who, he knew, would regard
them as imaginary. Upon this occasion, he assumed the appearance of
perfect ease and composure, after the violent agitation he had just
manifested, in a manner which showed how anxious he was to disguise his
real feelings from Everard, whom he considered so unlikely to
participate in them.
He saluted the Colonel with profound ceremony, and talked of the
fineness of the evening, which had summoned him forth of the Lodge, to
take a turn in the Park, and enjoy the favourable weather. He then took
Everard by the arm, and walked back with him towards the Lodge, Wildrake
and Tomkins following close behind and leading the horses. Everard,
desirous to gain some light on these mysterious incidents, endeavoured
to come on the subject more than once, by a mode of interrogation, which
Harrison (for madmen are very often unwilling to enter on the subject of
their mental delusion) parried with some skill, or addressed himself for
aid to his steward Tomkins, who was in the habit of being voucher for
his master upon all occasions, which led to Desborough's ingenious
nickname of Fibbet.
"And wherefore had you your sword drawn, my worthy General," said
Everard, "when you were only on an evening walk of pleasure?"
"Truly, excellent Colonel, these are times when men must watch with
their loins girded, and their lights burning, and their weapons drawn.
The day draweth nigh, believe me or not as you will, that men must watch
lest they be found naked and unarmed, when the seven trumpets shall
sound, Boot and saddle; and the pipes of Jezer shall strike up, Horse
and away."
"True, good General; but methought I saw you making passes, even now, as
if you were fighting," said Everard.
"I am of a strange fantasy, friend Everard," answered Harrison; "and
when I walk alone, and happen, as but now, to have my weapon drawn, I
sometimes, for exercise' sake, will practise a thrust against such a
tree as that. It is a silly pride men have in the use of weapons. I have
been accounted a master of fence, and have fought for prizes when I was
unregenerated, and before I was called to do my part in the great work,
entering as a trooper into our victorious General's first regiment of
horse."
"But methought," said Everard, "I heard a weapon clash with yours?"
"How? a weapon clash with my sword? - How could that be, Tomkins?"
"Truly, sir," said Tomkins, "it must have been a bough of the tree; they
have them of all kinds here, and your honour may have pushed against one
of them, which the Brazilians call iron-wood, a block of which, being
struck with a hammer, saith Purchas in his Pilgrimage, ringeth like an
anvil."
"Truly, it may be so," said Harrison; "for those rulers who are gone,
assembled in this their abode of pleasure many strange trees and plants,
though they gathered not of the fruit of that tree which beareth twelve
manner of fruits, or of those leaves which are for the healing of the
nations."
Everard pursued his investigation; for he was struck with the manner in
which Harrison evaded his questions, and the dexterity with which he
threw his transcendental and fanatical notions, like a sort of veil,
over the darker visions excited by remorse and conscious guilt.
"But," said he, "if I may trust my eyes and ears, I cannot but still
think that you had a real antagonist. - Nay, I am sure I saw a fellow, in
a dark-coloured jerkin, retreat through the wood."
"Did you?" said Harrison, with a tone of surprise, while his voice
faltered in spite of him - "Who could he be? - Tomkins, did you see the
fellow Colonel Everard talks of with the napkin in his hand - the bloody
napkin which he always pressed to his side?"
This last expression, in which Harrison gave a mark different from that
which Everard had assigned, but corresponding to Tomkins's original
description of the supposed spectre, had more effect on Everard in
confirming the steward's story, than anything he had witnessed or heard.
The voucher answered the draft upon him as promptly as usual, that he
had seen such a fellow glide past them into the thicket - that he dared
to say he was some deer-stealer, for he had heard they were become very
audacious.
"Look ye there now, Master Everard," said Harrison, hurrying from the
subject - "Is it not time now that we should lay aside our controversies,
and join hand in hand to repairing the breaches of our Zion? Happy and
contented were I, my excellent friend, to be a treader of mortar, or a
bearer of a hod, upon this occasion, under our great leader, with whom
Providence has gone forth in this great national controversy; and truly,
so devoutly do I hold by our excellent and victorious General Oliver,
whom Heaven long preserve - that were he to command me, I should not
scruple to pluck forth of his high place the man whom they call speaker,
even as I lent a poor hand to pluck down the man whom they called
King. - Wherefore, as I know your judgment holdeth with mine on this
matter, let me urge unto you lovingly, that we may act as brethren, and
build up the breaches, and re-establish the bulwarks of our English
Zion, whereby we shall be doubtless chosen as pillars and buttresses,
under our excellent Lord-General, for supporting and sustaining the
same, and endowed with proper revenues and incomes, both spiritual and
temporal, to serve as a pedestal, on which we may stand, seeing that
otherwise our foundation will be on the loose sand. - Nevertheless,"
continued he, his mind again diverging from his views of temporal
ambition into his visions of the Fifth Monarchy, "these things are but
vanity in respect of the opening of the book which is sealed; for all
things approach speedily towards lightning and thundering, and unloosing
of the great dragon from the bottomless pit, wherein he is chained."
With this mingled strain of earthly politics, and fanatical prediction,
Harrison so overpowered Colonel Everard, as to leave him no time to urge
him farther on the particular circumstances of his nocturnal skirmish,
concerning which it is plain he had no desire to be interrogated. They
now reached the Lodge of Woodstock.
* * * * *
CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
While the screech-owl, sounding loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets out its sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide.
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
Before the gate of the palace the guards were now doubled. Everard
demanded the reason of this from the corporal, whom he found in the hall
with his soldiers, sitting or sleeping around a great fire, maintained
at the expense of the carved chairs and benches with fragments of which
it was furnished.
"Why, verily," answered the man, "the _corps-de-garde_, as your worship
says, will be harassed to pieces by such duty; nevertheless, fear hath
gone abroad among us, and no man will mount guard alone. We have drawn
in, however, one or two of our outposts from Banbury and elsewhere, and
we are to have a relief from Oxford to-morrow."
Everard continued minute enquiries concerning the sentinels that were
posted within as well as without the Lodge; and found that, as they had
been stationed under the eye of Harrison himself, the rules of prudent
discipline had been exactly observed in the distribution of the posts.
There remained nothing therefore for Colonel Everard to do, but,
remembering his own adventure of the evening, to recommend that an
additional sentinel should be placed, with a companion, if judged
indispensable, in that vestibule, or ante-room, from which the long
gallery where he had met with the rencontre, and other suites of
apartments, diverged. The corporal respectfully promised all obedience
to his orders. The serving-men being called, appeared also in double
force. Everard demanded to know whether the Commissioners had gone to
bed, or whether he could get speech with them? "They are in their
bedroom, forsooth," replied one of the fellows; "but I think they be not
yet undressed."
"What!" said Everard, "are Colonel Desborough and Master Bletson both in
the same sleeping apartment?"
"Their honours have so chosen it," said the man; "and their honours'
secretaries remain upon guard all night."
"It is the fashion to double guards all over the house," said Wildrake.
"Had I a glimpse of a tolerably good-looking house-maid now, I should
know how to fall into the fashion."
"Peace, fool!" said Everard. - "And where are the Mayor and Master
Holdenough?"
"The Mayor is returned to the borough on horseback, behind the trooper,
who goes to Oxford for the reinforcement; and the man of the
steeple-house hath quartered himself in the chamber which Colonel
Desborough had last night, being that in which he is most likely to meet
the - your honour understands. The Lord pity us, we are a harassed
family!"
"And where be General Harrison's knaves," said Tomkins, "that they do
not marshal him to his apartment?"
"Here - here - here, Master Tomkins," said three fellows, pressing
forward, with the same consternation on their faces which seemed to
pervade the whole inhabitants of Woodstock.
"Away with you, then," said Tomkins; - "speak not to his worship - you see
he is not in the humour."
"Indeed," observed Colonel Everard, "he looks singularly wan - his
features seem writhen as by a palsy stroke; and though he was talking so
fast while we came along, he hath not opened his mouth since we came to
the light."
"It is his manner after such visitations," said Tomkins. - "Give his
honour your arms, Zedekiah and Jonathan, to lead him off - I will follow
instantly. - You, Nicodemus, tarry to wait upon me - it is not well
walking alone in this mansion."
"Master Tomkins," said Everard, "I have heard of you often as a sharp,
intelligent man - tell me fairly, are you in earnest afraid of any thing
supernatural haunting this house?"
"I would be loth to run the chance, sir," said Tomkins very gravely; "by
looking on my worshipful master, you may form a guess how the living
look after they have spoken with the dead." He bowed low, and took his
leave. Everard proceeded to the chamber which the two remaining
Commissioners had, for comfort's sake, chosen to inhabit in company.
They were preparing for bed as he went into their apartment. Both
started as the door opened - both rejoiced when they saw it was only
Everard who entered.
"Hark ye hither," said Bletson, pulling him aside, "sawest thou ever ass
equal to Desborough? - the fellow is as big as an ox, and as timorous as
a sheep. He has insisted on my sleeping here, to protect him. Shall we
have a merry night on't, ha? We will, if thou wilt take the third bed,
which was prepared for Harrison; but he is gone out, like a mooncalf, to
look for the valley of Armageddon in the Park of Woodstock."
"General Harrison has returned with me but now," said Everard.
"Nay but, as I shall live, he comes not into our apartment," said
Desborough, overhearing his answer. "No man that has been supping, for
aught I know, with the Devil, has a right to sleep among Christian
folk."
"He does not propose so," said Everard; "he sleeps, as I understand,
apart - and alone."
"Not quite alone, I dare say," said Desborough; "for Harrison hath a
sort of attraction for goblins - they fly round him like moths about a
candle: - But, I prithee, good Everard, do thou stay with us. I know not
how it is, but although thou hast not thy religion always in thy mouth,
nor speakest many hard words about it, like Harrison - nor makest long
preachments, like a certain most honourable relation of mine who shall
be nameless, yet somehow I feel myself safer in thy company than with
any of them. As for this Bletson, he is such a mere blasphemer, that I
fear the Devil will carry him away ere morning."
"Did you ever hear such a paltry coward?" said Bletson, apart to
Everard. "Do tarry, however, mine honoured Colonel - I know your zeal to
assist the distressed, and you see Desborough is in that predicament,
that he will require near him more than one example to prevent him
thinking of ghosts and fiends."
"I am sorry I cannot oblige you, gentlemen," said Everard; "but I have
settled my mind to sleep in Victor Lee's apartment, so I wish you good
night; and, if you would repose without disturbance, I would advise that
you commend yourselves, during the watches of the night, to Him unto
whom night is even as mid-day. I had intended to have spoke with you
this evening on the subject of my being here; but I will defer the
conference till to-morrow, when, I think, I will be able to show you
excellent reasons for leaving Woodstock."
"We have seen plenty such already," said Desborough; "for one, I came
here to serve the estate, with some moderate advantage to myself for my
trouble; but if I am set upon my head again to-night, as I was the night
before, I would not stay longer to gain a king's crown; for I am sure my
neck would be unfitted to bear the weight of it."
"Good night," exclaimed Everard; and was about to go, when Bletson again
pressed close, and whispered to him, "Hark thee, Colonel - you know my
friendship for thee - I do implore thee to leave the door of thy
apartment open, that if thou meetest with any disturbance, I may hear
thee call, and be with thee upon the very instant. Do this, dear
Everard, my fears for thee will keep me awake else; for I know that,
notwithstanding your excellent sense, you entertain some of those
superstitious ideas which we suck in with our mother's milk, and which
constitute the ground of our fears in situations like the present;
therefore leave thy door open, if you love me, that you may have ready
assistance from me in case of need."
"My master," said Wildrake, "trusts, first, in his Bible, sir, and then
in his good sword. He has no idea that the Devil can be baffled by the
charm of two men lying in one room, still less that the foul fiend can
be argued out of existence by the Nullifidians of the Rota."
Everard seized his imprudent friend by the collar, and dragged him off
as he was speaking, keeping fast hold of him till they were both in the
chamber of Victor Lee, where they had slept on a former occasion. Even
then he continued to hold Wildrake, until the servant had arranged the
lights, and was dismissed from the room; then letting him go, addressed
him with the upbraiding question, "Art thou not a prudent and sagacious
person, who in times like these seek'st every opportunity to argue
yourself into a broil, or embroil yourself in an argument? Out on you!"
"Ay, out on me indeed," said the cavalier; "out on me for a poor
tame-spirited creature, that submits to be bandied about in this manner,
by a man who is neither better born nor better bred than myself. I tell
thee, Mark, you make an unfair use of your advantages over me. Why will
you not let me go from you, and live and die after my own fashion?"
"Because, before we had been a week separate, I should hear of your
dying after the fashion of a dog. Come, my good friend, what madness was
it in thee to fall foul on Harrison, and then to enter into useless
argument with Bletson?"
"Why, we are in the Devil's house, I think, and I would willingly give
the landlord his due wherever I travel. To have sent him Harrison, or
Bletson now, just as a lunch to stop his appetite, till Crom" -
"Hush! stone walls have ears," said Everard, looking around him. "Here
stands thy night-drink. Look to thy arms, for we must be as careful as
if the Avenger of Blood were behind us. Yonder is thy bed - and I, as
thou seest, have one prepared in the parlour. The door only divides us."
"Which I will leave open, in case thou shouldst holla for assistance, as
yonder Nullifidian hath it - But how hast thou got all this so well put
in order, good patron?"
"I gave the steward Tomkins notice of my purpose to sleep here."
"A strange fellow that," said Wildrake, "and, as I judge, has taken
measure of every one's foot - all seems to pass through his hands."
"He is, I have understood," replied Everard, "one of the men formed by
the times - has a ready gift of preaching and expounding, which keeps him
in high terms with the Independents; and recommends himself to the more
moderate people by his intelligence and activity."
"Has his sincerity ever been doubted?" said Wildrake.
"Never, that I heard of," said the Colonel; "on the contrary, he has
been familiarly called Honest Joe, and Trusty Tomkins. For my part, I
believe his sincerity has always kept pace with his interest. - But come,
finish thy cup, and to bed. - What, all emptied at one draught!"
"Adszookers, yes - my vow forbids me to make two on't; but, never
fear - the nightcap will only warm my brain, not clog it. So, man or
devil, give me notice if you are disturbed, and rely on me in a
twinkling." So saying, the cavalier retreated into his separate
apartment, and Colonel Everard, taking off the most cumbrous part of his
dress, lay down in his hose and doublet, and composed himself to rest.
He was awakened from sleep by a slow and solemn strain of music, which
died away as at a distance. He started up, and felt for his arms, which
he found close beside him. His temporary bed being without curtains, he
could look around him without difficulty; but as there remained in the
chimney only a few red embers of the fire which he had arranged before
he went to sleep, it was impossible he could discern any thing. He felt,
therefore, in spite of his natural courage, that undefined and thrilling
species of tremor which attends a sense that danger is near, and an
uncertainty concerning its cause and character. Reluctant as he was to
yield belief to supernatural occurrences, we have already said he was
not absolutely incredulous; as perhaps, even in this more sceptical age,
there are many fewer complete and absolute infidels on this particular
than give themselves out for such. Uncertain whether he had not dreamed
of these sounds which seemed yet in his ears, he was unwilling to risk
the raillery of his friend by summoning him to his assistance. He sat
up, therefore, in his bed, not without experiencing that nervous
agitation to which brave men as well as cowards are subject; with this
difference, that the one sinks under it, like the vine under the
hailstorm, and the other collects his energies to shake it off, as the
cedar of Lebanon is said to elevate its boughs to disperse the snow
which accumulates upon them.
The story of Harrison, in his own absolute despite, and notwithstanding
a secret suspicion which he had of trick or connivance, returned on his
mind at this dead and solitary hour. Harrison, he remembered, had
described the vision by a circumstance of its appearance different from
that which his own remark had been calculated to suggest to the mind of
the visionary; - that bloody napkin, always pressed to the side, was then
a circumstance present either to his bodily eye, or to that of his
agitated imagination. Did, then, the murdered revisit the living haunts
of those who had forced them from the stage with all their sins
unaccounted for? And if they did, might not the same permission
authorise other visitations of a similar nature, to warn - to instruct -
to punish? Rash are they, was his conclusion, and credulous, who receive
as truth every tale of the kind; but no less rash may it be, to limit
the power of the Creator over the works which he has made, and to
suppose that, by the permission of the Author of Nature, the laws of
Nature may not, in peculiar cases, and for high purposes, be temporarily
suspended.
While these thoughts passed through Everard's mind, feelings unknown to
him, even when he stood first on the rough and perilous edge of battle,
gained ground upon him. He feared he knew not what; and where an open
and discernible peril would have drawn out his courage, the absolute
uncertainty of his situation increased his sense of the danger. He felt
an almost irresistible desire to spring from his bed and heap fuel on
the dying embers, expecting by the blaze to see some strange sight in
his chamber. He was also strongly tempted to awaken Wildrake; but shame,
stronger than fear itself, checked these impulses. What! should it be
thought that Markham Everard, held one of the best soldiers who had
drawn a sword in this sad war - Markham Everard, who had obtained such
distinguished rank in the army of the Parliament, though so young in
years, was afraid of remaining by himself in a twilight-room at
midnight? It never should be said.
This was, however, no charm for his unpleasant current of thought. There
rushed on his mind the various traditions of Victor Lee's chamber,
which, though he had often despised them as vague, unauthenticated, and
inconsistent rumours, engendered by ancient superstition, and
transmitted from generation to generation by loquacious credulity, had
something in them, which, did not tend to allay the present unpleasant
state of his nerves. Then, when he recollected the events of that very
afternoon, the weapon pressed against his throat, and the strong arm
which threw him backward on the floor - if the remembrance served to
contradict the idea of flitting phantoms, and unreal daggers, it
certainly induced him to believe, that there was in some part of this
extensive mansion a party of cavaliers, or malignants, harboured, who
might arise in the night, overpower the guards, and execute upon them
all, but on Harrison in particular, as one of the regicide judges, that
vengeance, which was so eagerly thirsted for by the attached followers
of the slaughtered monarch.
He endeavoured to console himself on this subject by the number and
position of the guards, yet still was dissatisfied with himself for not
having taken yet more exact precautions, and for keeping an extorted
promise of silence, which might consign so many of his party to the
danger of assassination. These thoughts, connected with his military
duties, awakened another train of reflections. He bethought himself,
that all he could now do, was to visit the sentries, and ascertain that
they were awake, alert, on the watch, and so situated, that in time of
need they might be ready to support each other. - "This better befits
me," he thought, "than to be here like a child, frightening myself with
the old woman's legend, which I have laughed at when a boy. What
although old Victor Lee was a sacrilegious man, as common report goes,
and brewed ale in the font which he brought from the ancient palace of
Holyrood, while church and building were in flames? And what although
his eldest son was when a child scalded to death in the same vessel? How
many churches have been demolished since his time? How many fonts
desecrated? So many indeed, that were the vengeance of Heaven to visit
such aggressions in a supernatural manner, no corner in England, no, not
the most petty parish church, but would have its apparition. - Tush,
these are idle fancies, unworthy, especially, to be entertained by those
educated to believe that sanctity resides in the intention and the act,
not in the buildings or fonts, or the form of worship."
As thus he called together the articles of his Calvinistic creed, the
bell of the great clock (a token seldom silent in such narratives)
tolled three, and was immediately followed by the hoarse call of the
sentinels through vault and gallery, up stairs and beneath, challenging
and answering each other with the usual watch-word, All's Well. Their
voices mingled with the deep boom of the bell, yet ceased before that
was silent, and when they had died away, the tingling echo of the
prolonged knell was scarcely audible. Ere yet that last distant tingling
had finally subsided into silence, it seemed as if it again was
awakened; and Everard could hardly judge at first whether a new echo had
taken up the falling cadence, or whether some other and separate sound
was disturbing anew the silence to which the deep knell had, as its
voice ceased, consigned the ancient mansion and the woods around it.
But the doubt was soon cleared up. The musical tones which had mingled
with the dying echoes of the knell, seemed at first to prolong, and
afterwards to survive them. A wild strain of melody, beginning at a
distance, and growing louder as it advanced, seemed to pass from room to
room, from cabinet to gallery, from hall to bower, through the deserted
and dishonoured ruins of the ancient residence of so many sovereigns;
and, as it approached, no soldier gave alarm, nor did any of the
numerous guests of various degrees, who spent an unpleasant and
terrified night in that ancient mansion, seem to dare to announce to
each other the inexplicable cause of apprehension.
Everard's excited state of mind did not permit him to be so passive. The
sounds approached so nigh, that it seemed they were performing, in the
very next apartment, a solemn service for the dead, when he gave the
alarm, by calling loudly to his trusty attendant and friend Wildrake,
who slumbered in the next chamber with only a door betwixt them, and
even that ajar. "Wildrake - Wildrake! - Up - Up! Dost thou not hear the
alarm?" There was no answer from Wildrake, though the musical sounds,
which now rung through the apartment, as if the performers had actually
been, within its precincts, would have been sufficient to awaken a
sleeping person, even without the shout of his comrade and patron.
"Alarm! - Roger Wildrake - alarm!" again called Everard, getting out of
bed and grasping his weapons - "Get a light, and cry alarm!" There was no
answer. His voice died away as the sound of the music seemed also to
die; and the same soft sweet voice, which still to his thinking
resembled that of Alice Lee, was heard in his apartment, and, as he
thought, at no distance from him.
"Your comrade will not answer," said the low soft voice. "Those only
hear the alarm whose consciences feel the call!"
"Again this mummery!" said Everard. "I am better armed than I was of
late; and but for the sound of that voice, the speaker had bought his
trifling dear."
It was singular, we may observe in passing, that the instant the
distinct sounds of the human voice were heard by Everard, all idea of
supernatural interference was at an end, and the charm by which he had
been formerly fettered appeared to be broken; so much is the influence
of imaginary or superstitious terror dependent (so far as respects
strong judgments at least) upon what is vague or ambiguous; and so
readily do distinct tones, and express ideas, bring such judgments back
to the current of ordinary life. The voice returned answer, as
addressing his thoughts as well as his words.
"We laugh at the weapons thou thinkest should terrify us - Over the
guardians of Woodstock they have no power. Fire, if thou wilt, and try
the effect of thy weapons. But know, it is not our purpose to harm
thee - thou art of a falcon breed, and noble in thy disposition, though,
unreclaimed and ill-nurtured, thou hauntest with kites and carrion
crows. Wing thy flight from hence on the morrow, for if thou tarriest
with the bats, owls, vultures and ravens, which have thought to nestle
here, thou wilt inevitably share their fate. Away then, that these halls
may be swept and garnished for the reception of those who have a better
right to inhabit them."
Everard answered in a raised voice. - "Once more I warn you, think not to
defy me in vain. I am no child to be frightened by goblins' tales; and
no coward, armed as I am, to be alarmed at the threats of banditti. If I
give you a moment's indulgence, it is for the sake of dear and misguided
friends, who may be concerned with this dangerous gambol. Know, I can
bring a troop of soldiers round the castle, who will search its most
inward recesses for the author of this audacious frolic; and if that
search should fail, it will cost but a few barrels of gunpowder to make
the mansion a heap of ruins, and bury under them the authors of such an
ill-judged pastime."
"You speak proudly, Sir Colonel," said another voice, similar to that
harsher and stronger tone by which he had been addressed in the gallery;
"try your courage in this direction."
"You should not dare me twice," said Colonel Everard, "had I a glimpse
of light to take aim by."
As he spoke, a sudden gleam of light was thrown with a brilliancy which
almost dazzled the speaker, showing distinctly a form somewhat
resembling that of Victor Lee, as represented in his picture, holding in
one hand a lady completely veiled, and in the other his leading-staff,
or truncheon. Both figures were animated, and, as it appeared, standing
within six feet of him.
"Were it not for the woman," said Everard, "I would not be thus mortally
dared."
"Spare not for the female form, but do your worst," replied the same
voice. "I defy you."
"Repeat your defiance when I have counted thrice," said Everard, "and
take the punishment of your insolence. Once - I have cocked my pistol -
Twice - I never missed my aim - By all that is sacred, I fire if you do
not withdraw. When I pronounce the next number, I will shoot you dead
where you stand. I am yet unwilling to shed blood - I give you another
chance of flight - once - twice - THRICE!"
Everard aimed at the bosom, and discharged his pistol. The figure waved
its arm in an attitude of scorn; and a loud laugh arose, during which
the light, as gradually growing weaker, danced and glimmered upon the
apparition of the aged knight, and then disappeared. Everard's
life-blood ran cold to his heart - "Had he been of human mould," he
thought, "the bullet must have pierced him - but I have neither will nor
power to fight with supernatural beings."
The feeling of oppression was now so strong as to be actually sickening.
He groped his way, however, to the fireside, and flung on the embers
which were yet gleaming, a handful of dry fuel. It presently blazed, and
afforded him light to see the room in every direction. He looked
cautiously, almost timidly, around, and half expected some horrible
phantom to become visible. But he saw nothing save the old furniture,
the reading desk, and other articles, which had been left in the same
state as when Sir Henry Lee departed. He felt an uncontrollable desire,
mingled with much repugnance, to look at the portrait of the ancient
knight, which the form he had seen so strongly resembled. He hesitated
betwixt the opposing feelings, but at length snatched, with desperate
resolution, the taper which he had extinguished, and relighted it, ere
the blaze of the fuel had again died away. He held it up to the ancient
portrait of Victor Lee, and gazed on it with eager curiosity, not
unmingled with fear. Almost the childish terrors of his earlier days
returned, and he thought the severe pale eye of the ancient warrior
followed his, and menaced him with its displeasure. And although he
quickly argued himself out of such an absurd belief, yet the mixed
feelings of his mind were expressed in words that seemed half addressed
to the ancient portrait.
"Soul of my mother's ancestor," he said, "be it for weal or for woe, by