Cruel as the grave
Mr. Dubarry to dispatch a carriage for the family physician.
"Before morning the doctor arrived. But the convulsions and the delirium
of the lady increased in violence until just at the dawn of day, when
she gave birth to an infant boy, who breathed and died.
"Then, just before her own death, she recovered her senses and grew very
calm. She asked to see her child. When the nurse brought it, she kissed
its cold face, and bade her lay it by her side. Then the lady called her
husband, and whispered so faintly that he had to lean his ear to her
lips to hear her words. She said:
"'The vision is realized in the dead mother and the dead babe! But,
Philip! _for whose sin do we die?_'
"Before he could make a reply, if any reply had been possible, she was
gone.
"The mother and babe were buried together. The company at Shut-up
Dubarry broke up in the greatest consternation. The story of the vision,
real or imaginary, that had caused the lady's death, got out. All the
neighborhood talked of it, and connected it with the fate of the hardly
used gipsy girl, whose spirit was said to haunt the house.
"Mr. Dubarry became a prey to the most poignant grief and remorse. He
shut himself up in his desolate house, where he was abandoned by all his
neighbors, and by all his servants, with the exception of the old
housekeeper and house-steward, whose devotion to the family they had
served so long, retained them still in the service of its last and most
unhappy representative.
"But awful stories crept out from that house of gloom. 'Twas said that
the master was always followed by the spectre of the gipsy girl--that he
could be heard in the dead of night walking up and down the hall outside
of his chamber door, raving in frenzy, or expostulating with some
unknown and unseen being, who was said to be the spectre that haunted
the house.
"At length, unable to endure the misery of solitude and superstitious
terrors, Mr. Dubarry took an aged Catholic priest to share his home.
Under the influence of Father Ingleman, Philip Dubarry became a penitent
and a devotee. At that time this church was but a rude chapel, erected
over the old family vault. But now, by the advice of the old priest, Mr.
Dubarry rebuilt and enlarged the chapel, for the accommodation of all
the Catholics in the neighborhood. He also added a priest's house. And
Father Ingleman said mass every Sunday, while waiting for another priest
to be appointed to the charge.
"This rebuilding and remodelling amused the miserable master of the
manor, during the latter part of the summer and the autumn following his
wife's death. But with the coming of the winter, returned all his gloom
and horror. And the good old priest, so far from being able to help his
patron, was himself so much affected in health and spirits by this
condition of the house, that he begged and obtained leave to retire to
the little dwelling beside the church.
"The awful winter passed away.
"But on one stormy night in March, the mansion house took fire. It was
said that the haunted master of the house, in a fit of desperation,
actually set it on fire, with the purpose of burning out the ghost. At
all events, it seems certain that he would permit nothing to be done to
stop the flames.
"The house was burned to the ground. The houseless master took refuge
with Father Ingleman, in the priest's dwelling by the church. But there
also the spectre followed him, nor could all the exorcisms of Father
Ingleman with 'candle, bell, and book,' avail to lay the disturbed
spirit.
"Philip Dubarry, half a maniac by this time, sent away the priest,
pulled down the priest's house, and took up his abode in the body of the
church itself, which was thenceforward deserted by all others. But here
also the spectre was supposed to have followed him. At length he
disappeared. No one knew whither he went. Some said that he had gathered
together his money and departed for a foreign country; others, that he
had drowned himself in the Black River, though his body never was found.
Some said that he had cast himself down headlong from some mountain
crest, and his bones were bleaching in some inaccessible ravine; while
others, again, did not hesitate to say that the devil had flown away
with him bodily.
"The fate of the last of the Dubarrys is unknown. The estate, unclaimed,
is held in abeyance. The house, burned to the ground, has never been
restored. The church, thereafter known as the Haunted Chapel, has
crumbled into the ruin that you see. And such, dear Sybil, is the story
of the 'Fall of the Dubarrys.'"
CHAPTER XXVII.
FEARFUL WAITING.
Still the wood is dim and lonely,
Still the plashing fountains play,
But the past with all its beauty,
Whither has it fled away?
Hark! the mournful echoes say,
Fled away!--A.A. PROCTOR.
"And the apparition that we both saw was like that of the gipsy girl in
the ghostly legend," said Sybil, musingly.
"Yes; in the matter of the red cloak--a very common garment, dear Sybil.
Such a resemblance reminds us of Paganini's portrait which the child
said was like him, 'about the fiddle,'" replied Lyon Berners, with an
effort towards pleasantry, which was very far indeed from his heart; for
he was oppressed with grief and dread. He was anxiously looking forward
to the arrival of Captain Pendleton; and fearing for the effect his
disclosures must have upon his beloved Sybil, who seemed still so
utterly unable to realize her position. She seemed almost satisfied now,
so that Lyon was near her, and she was the only object of his care. So
disengaged was her mind, at this hour, from all real appreciation of her
situation, that she had leisure to feel interested in the tale that Lyon
had told her. She again reverted to it.
"But the likeness was not only in the red cloak, it was in the whole
gipsy style. I spoke of that, even before you had told me anything about
the gipsy girl," persisted Sybil.
Before Lyon could answer her, steps were heard approaching.
"There is Pendleton," exclaimed Mr. Berners, and he arose and hurried
forward to meet the visitor.
"Hush! come out here a moment," he whispered, drawing Captain Pendleton
outside the chapel. "Sybil knows nothing of that verdict as yet. I wish
to keep it from her knowledge as long as possible--for ever, if
possible. So if you have any more bad news to tell, tell it now, and
here, to me," he added.
"Berners," began the Captain--but then he paused in pity.
"Go on," said Lyon.
"My friend, the flight of your wife and yourself if not absolutely
ascertained, is strongly suspected. An officer watches your closed
chamber door. Two others have been dispatched to Blackville, to watch
the ferry. By to-morrow morning the flight, so strongly suspected now,
will be fully discovered. This is all I have to say in private. And now,
perhaps we had better not linger any longer here, lest Mrs. Berners may
suspect something, if possible, even more alarming than the truth," said
Captain Pendleton.
"You are quite right," admitted Lyon Berners, and they entered the
chapel together.
Sybil sprang up to meet them.
"What news, Captain? Is the murderer discovered? May we return home?"
she eagerly inquired.
"No, madam; the murderer has not yet been discovered, nor do I think it
would be prudent in you yet to return home," replied the Captain,
feeling relieved that her questions had taken forms that enabled him to
reply truly to them without divulging the alarming intelligence of the
verdict of the coroner's jury.
He unstrapped a portmanteau from his shoulders and threw it down near
the fire, and seated himself upon it. Then turning to Mr. Berners, he
said:
"I have made arrangements with your faithful Joe to bring certain
necessaries to this place to-night. They cannot, you know, be brought to
this spot by the same direct route that we took in coming here. But as
soon as the moon goes down, which will be about one o'clock, Joe will
launch a boat just below Black Hall and come across the river with all
that is most needed. There he will find a cart and horse waiting for
him. He will load the cart and drive it up here to the entrance of the
thicket."
"But that cart, Pendleton?"
"Yes! you will wonder how I got it there without exciting suspicion. It
was done in this way. I ordered Joe to bring it boldly up in front of
the house, and to put in it the boxes containing my own and my sister's
masquerade dresses, and to take them over to our place. Joe understood
and obeyed me, and drove the cart to Blackville, and crossed the river
at the ferry, under the very eyes of the constable stationed there to
watch. He brought the cart down this bank, and left it concealed in a
clearing of the wood. He will watch his opportunity, as soon as it is
dark enough to swim across the river, and launch the boat and fill it
with the necessaries that he will secretly obtain from Black Hall. It is
a business that will require considerable tact and discretion; or at
least, great secretiveness and cautiousness," added Captain Pendleton.
"And these, Joe, like all his race, possesses in excess," observed Lyon
Berners.
"Are the guests all gone away from the house?" inquired Sybil.
"Nearly all. My sister remains there for the present to watch your
interests, Mrs. Berners. The old Judge also, to superintend legal
processes; but even he will go away in the morning, I think."
While they spoke, a loud sneeze and then a cough was heard outside, and
then Joe walked in, with a doubled up mattress on his head.
"This here is moving under difficulties, Master," he panted, as he laid
the mattress down on the stone floor.
"How ever did you get that along the narrow path through the thicket,
Joe?" inquired Sybil.
"You may well ax that, Missis. I had to lay it down endways, and drag
it. Howsever, I has got all the things through the worst part of the way
now, and they's all out in the church-yard," answered Joe, recovering
his breath, and starting for the remaining goods.
He soon returned, bringing in a small assortment of bedding, clothing,
and so forth. And in another trip he brought in a small supply of food
and a few cooking utensils.
"That's all. And now, Miss Sybil, if you would only let me live here
along o' you and Marse Lyon, and wait on to you bofe, I could make
myself very much satisfied into my own mind," he said, as he laid down
the last articles, and stood to rest himself.
"But you know, Joe, that you can serve us better by remaining at Black
Hall," said Sybil, kindly.
"Now, Marser Capping Pendulum, I hope them there fineries in the boxes,
as you told me to bring away, for a blind from our place, won't take no
harm along of being left out in the woods all night, for it was there
underneaf of a pile of leaves and bushes as I was obligated for to leave
them."
"They'll not take cold, at all events, Joe," said Captain Pendleton,
good-naturedly.
By this time, the fire on the stone floor had become so low that it was
quite dark in the chapel. But among the little necessities of life
brought by Joe, was a small silver candlestick and a few slim wax
candles. One of these was lighted, and gleamed faintly around, striking
strangely upon the faces of the group gathered near the smouldering
fire.
The friends sat and talked together, and arranged as far as they could
their plans for future movements. It was not until near day that Captain
Pendleton arose to depart, saying:
"Well, Berners, I do dislike to leave you and Mrs. Berners here alone
again, especially as I fear that you will not go to sleep, as you ought