Cruel as the grave
Summoning up as much resolution as he could muster, he affected a light
laugh, and answered:
"'Spectre! My sweet wife, there is no such thing.'
"'Ah, but--but--if you could have seen what I saw, _felt what I felt_!'
"'Nonsense, dear one. You were the subject of an optical illusion.'
"'No, I was not. Hush! Let me tell you what happened. I came up into
this room. It was warm and ruddy with the fire light and the lamp light;
and in the glow I saw the girl standing between the hearth and the bed.
I spoke to her, asking her how she dared intrude into my most sacred
privacy; and then she silently glided from the spot. But I told her she
should not leave the room until she had given some account of herself.
And I put forth my hand to stop her, but the moment I did so I received
a shock as from some powerful galvanic battery! a tremendous shock that
threw me down upon my face. I knew no more until I came to my senses and
found myself here, with you watching over me. Now, Philip, tell me that
was an optical illusion, if you dare,' said the lady, solemnly.
"'Yes, love, I dare. I tell you that what you saw _was_ an optical
illusion.'
"'--But what I felt?'
"'--Was a slight--a very slight attack of catalepsy. Both the vision and
the fit, dear, took their rise in some abnormal state of the nervous
system,' said Philip Dubarry; and feeling almost pleased with his own
explanation of the mystery, he tried to persuade himself that it was the
true one."
"But his wife turned her face to the wall, saying, however.
"'Well, at any rate, I am glad that the girl in the red cloak is not
flesh and blood, Phil. I would rather she should be an 'optical
illusion' or a fit of 'catalepsy,' or even a 'spectre,' than a
sweetheart of yours, as I first took, her to be.
"'Be not afraid. You have no living rival, Alicia,' answered her husband.
"And the reconciliation between the husband and the wife was complete
from that time forth.
"But somehow the condition of the lady was worse than before.
"_She was haunted_.
"She knew herself to be haunted; but whether by a spectral illusion or a
real spectre, she could not know. In the glow of the fire light, in the
shadow of the bed-curtains in the illuminated drawing-room, on the dark
staircase, wherever and whenever she found herself alone, the vision of
the girl in the red cloak crossed her path. She did not speak to it, or
try to stop it again. She did not wish to risk another such an electric
shock as should 'cast her shuddering on her face.' But her health wasted
under the trial. Her nerves failed. She grew fearful of being left alone
for an instant; nothing would induce her to go into any room in the
house without an attendant. She contracted a habit of looking fearfully
over her shoulder, and sometimes suddenly screaming.
"Nor was the mistress of the house the only sufferer from this 'abnormal
state of the nervous system,' as the master of the house preferred to
call the mystery. The servants grew so much afraid to move about the
building alone, that their usefulness was much impaired. And at length
one after another ran away, and took to the woods and mountain caves,
preferring to starve or beg rather than live in luxury in the haunted
house. New servants were procured to supply the places of the old ones,
until the latter could be brought back; but none of them stayed long;
nothing could induce them to remain in the 'haunted house.' The story of
the gipsy girl's ghost got around in the neighborhood. Not all the
despotic power of Mr. Dubarry could prevent this. The house came to be
pointed out and avoided by the ignorant and superstitious, as a haunted
and accursed spot. Even the more intelligent and enlightened portion of
the community gradually forsook it; for it was not very agreeable to
visit a family where the mistress was so full of 'flaws and starts'
that, even at the head of her own table, she would often startle the
whole company by suddenly looking over her right shoulder and uttering a
piercing scream.
"And so the house was abandoned by high and low, rich and poor alike.
And the worthy gossips of the neighborhood wisely nodded over their
tea-cups, and declared that the deserted condition of the house was but
a just retribution for the sins of its master.
"And in the meantime the health of the mistress grew worse and worse.
The most serious fears were entertained for her life and reason, death
or insanity seeming to be the most probable issue of her malady. Medical
advice was called in. The doctor, either in complaisance or sincerity,
agreed with Mr. Dubarry's theory of the patient's condition, ascribing
her illness to an 'abnormal state of the nervous system,' and he advised
change of air and scene, and he held forth good hopes that within a very
few months, when the young wife should become a mother, her health might
be perfectly reestablished.
"Under these circumstances, early in the new year, Mr. Dubarry took his
wife to Williamsburg, to spend the winter among the gayeties of the
colonial Governor's court.
"The haunted house was shut up, and left to itself. Not a man or woman
could be found to live in it, for love or money.
"In the glories of the colonial capital, Mrs. Dubarry completely
recovered from her nervous malady. She was visited by no more 'optical
illusions' or 'cataleptic' fits. She even grew to regard her former
visitations in the same way in which her husband pretended to view
them--as mere nervous phenomena. And as the fashionable season at
Williamsburg closed, and as the spring opened, Mrs. Dubarry expressed an
ardent desire to return to 'Shut-up Dubarry' for her confinement. 'The
heir of the manor should be born on the manor,' she said.
"Mr. Dubarry had great doubts about the safety of this measure, and
attempted to dissuade his wife from it; but she was firm in her purpose,
and so she carried it.
"It was early in the royal month of June that the young wife was taken
back to her country home. Shut-up Dubarry looked as little like a
'haunted house' as any house could look: waving woods, sparkling waters,
blossoming trees, blooming flowers, singing birds--all the richness,
beauty and splendor of summer turned it into a paradise. Besides, Mrs.
Dubarry brought down half a dozen young cousins of both sexes with her,
and they filled the house with youthful life. Under these circumstances,
the old servants were tempted back. And all went on very well until one
day one of the young girls suddenly spoke out at the full
breakfast-table, and asked:
"'Alicia, who is that strange, silent girl, in the red cloak, that is
always following you about?'
"Mrs. Dubarry grew deadly pale, sat down the cup that she had held in
her hand, but she did not attempt to speak.
"'Have I said anything wrong? I did not mean to do so. I am sure I beg
pardon, if I have,' faltered the young cousin, looking from the pale
face of Mrs. Dubarry to the troubled countenance of Mr. Dubarry.
"'I am very sorry if I have said anything wrong,' repeated the little
cousin, in dismay.
"'No, no, you have said nothing amiss; but it is a very painful subject;
let us drop it,' replied Mr. Dubarry rather inconsistently. And every
one around the table silently wondered what the matter could be.
"When breakfast was over, and the husband and wife found themselves
alone together, Mrs. Dubarry seized his arm, and whispered:
"'Oh, Philip! the spectre has not gone!'
"'My dearest Alicia! you have not fancied that you have seen it
lately?'
"'No, no; but _she_ has seen it! Kitty has seen it _always following
me_! She took it for a real girl, as I did at first!'
"What could Philip Dubarry say to all this? Only one thing:
"'My darling, I cannot have your nerves shaken in this manner. You had
no such visitations as these while we stayed at Williamsburg. And so to
Williamsburg we will return immediately. Tell your maid to pack up this
afternoon, and we will set out to-morrow. No objections, Alicia! for I
tell you we must go.'
"She saw that his resolution was fixed, and she made no opposition to
it. She rang for her maid, and gave the necessary directions. And then,
feeling very unwell, she sent down an excuse to her company, and retired
to bed.
"At twelve o'clock that night, while the young people were enjoying
themselves in some round game in the drawing-room, and Mr. Dubarry was
doing all that he could to promote their entertainment, the whole party
was startled by a terrific cry coming from Mrs. Dubarry's chamber. All
paused for a breathless instant, and then rushed tumultuously up the
stairs. At the door of the bed-chamber, Mr. Dubarry turned around and
waved them all back. Then he entered the chamber alone. All seemed quiet
there then. The moonlight came flickering through the vine leaves on the
outside of the open window, and fell fitfully upon the face and form of
Alicia Dubarry, who was sitting up in bed, staring straight before her.
"Mr. Dubarry locked the door before he approached the bed.
"'Alicia,' he said, 'my dear Alicia, what is the matter?'
"'It is doom! It is doom!' she answered in an awful voice, without
removing her eyes from some object between the foot of the bed and the
moonlit window.
"'Compose yourself, dear wife, and tell me what has happened.'
"'Look! Look! for yourself!' she cried, her finger extended, and
following the direction of her eyes.
"'My sweet Alicia, there is nothing there but the tremulous shadow of
the vine leaves cast by the moonlight,' said Mr. Dubarry, persuasively,
as he went and drew the curtain before the window, and then struck a
match and lighted a lamp.
"But her eyes were never removed from the spot where she had gazed.
"'It is there yet!' she cried.
"'What is there, good Alicia? there is nothing there, indeed!'
"'Yes, the dead woman and dead child! Do you not see them?'
"'See! no! you are in one of your nervous attacks; but to-morrow we will
leave this place, and you will have no more of them.'
"'Hush! No! I shall never leave this place again.'
"'You shall start by sunrise to-morrow.'
"'Hush! listen! I will tell you what happened. I was sleeping well, very
well, when suddenly I was awakened with a tremendous shock. I started up
in bed and saw _her_--the terrible girl! She was standing at the foot of
the bed looking at me, and pointing to something that lay upon the
floor. I looked and saw--there it is yet!--the dead woman, with the dead
babe on her bosom! I shrieked aloud, for I knew the woman was myself,
and the babe was my own! And as I shrieked, she vanished, as she always
does; but the dead woman and child remained! And there they are yet! Oh!
cover them over, Philip! cover them over! Cover them from my sight, for
I have no power to withdraw my eyes from them,' she exclaimed in wild
excitement.
"Almost beside himself with distress, Philip Dubarry seized a large
table cover and threw it down over the spot upon which her eyes were
fixed.
"'Ah! it is of no use! it is of no use! I see them still! they rise
above the covering! they lie upon it!' she cried, in terrific emotion,
shaking as if with an ague fit.
"'Lie down,' said Philip Dubarry, compelling himself to be calm, for the
sake of trying to calm her. And he took her and laid her back upon the
pillow. But still she raved, like one in high fever and delirium.
"'I have received my sentence! I am doomed! I am doomed! I have seen my
own corpse, and the corpse of my child!' she cried. And then a violent
convulsion seized her.
"Nearly maddened by terror and despair, Philip Dubarry rushed from the
room and loudly called for assistance. The chamber was soon filled with
the members of the household, not one of whom knew what to do, until the
entrance of the old housekeeper, who sent everybody out, and requested