Cruel as the grave
supposed to have been overcome by drowsiness, while on your way to your
horse, and to have sunk down here and slept from that time to this--some
sixteen hours."
"Good--! I remember taking leave of you both, after our lively supper of
last evening, and starting for the thicket, and giving way just here to
an irresistible feeling of drowsiness, and sinking down with the dreamy
idea that I would not go to sleep, but would soon arise and pursue my
journey. And I have lain here all night!" he exclaimed in astonishment.
"Yes, and all day!" added Lyon, solemnly.
"How is it that I was not awakened before?" demanded the Captain, with
an injured look.
"Because we ourselves were in the same condition. It is not more than
fifteen minutes since my wife awakened me."
"In the name of heaven, then, what has befallen us all?" demanded the
Captain in amazement.
"That is what we must try to find out. You must help us. I have been
thinking rapidly while standing here, and the result is, that I judge we
have all been drugged with opium; but whether by accident or with
design, or if with design, by whom, or with what purpose, I cannot even
imagine; though I do vaguely connect the fact with the mysterious
visitant of the chapel," replied Mr. Berners.
While he spoke they all turned their steps towards the chapel. And with
his concluding words, they entered it in company.
The "housekeeping corner" of the chapel was in a state of confusion very
much at variance with the young housekeeper's fastidiously tidy habits.
The supper dishes lay upon the table-cloth on the floor, where they had
been uncared for by the drugged and drowsy pair. And the little bed
remained unmade, as it had been left by them when they ran out to look
after Captain Pendleton.
Sybil saw all this at a glance, and with a flush; and forgetting for a
moment everything else, she bade her husband and his guest stop where
they were until she had put her "house" in order.
In this limited manner of domestic economy, it took Sybil but ten
minutes to make the bed and wash the dishes. And, meanwhile, Lyon
Berners made up the fire, and Clement Pendleton brought a pail of fresh
water from the fountain.
Sybil began to prepare the breakfast, but none of the party felt like
eating it.
"And that is another sign of opium! We have no appetite," observed Lyon
Berners, as they sat down around the table-cloth; and instead of
discussing the viands before them, they discussed the events of the
preceding day and night.
Lyon Berners remembered that Sybil and himself had spent nearly the
whole of the preceding afternoon in rambling through the woods; and he
suggested as the only solution of the mystery that, during their absence
some one had entered the chapel, and put opium in their food and drink.
"'Some one;' but whom?" inquired Captain Pendleton, incredulously.
"Most probably the girl whom we have seen here," answered Mr. Berners.
"But for what purpose do you think she drugged your drink?"
"To throw us into a deep sleep for many hours, which would enable her to
come and go, to and from the chapel, undiscovered and unmolested."
"But why should she wish to come back and forth to such a dreary, empty
old place as this?"
"Ah! that I cannot tell; at that point conjecture is utterly baffled,"
answered Lyon.
"Yes; because conjecture has been pursuing a phantom--a phantom that
vanishes upon being nearly approached. I cannot accept your theory of
the mystery, Berners; and what is worse, I cannot substitute one of my
own," said Captain Pendleton, shaking his head.
"And now I have something to reveal," said Sybil, solemnly.
"Another morning dream?" inquired Lyon, while Pendleton looked up with
interest.
"No; a reality--a ghastly, horrible reality," she answered.
And while both looked at her with strange, deep interest and curiosity,
she related her sepulchral experiences of the night. When with pale
cheeks and shuddering frame she described the six dark, shrouded forms
that had come up out of the vault, bearing long shadowy coffins, which
they carried in a slow procession down along the east wall, past the
Gothic windows and out at the front door, her two listeners looked at
her, and then at each other, in amazement and incredulity.
"It was an opium dream," said Mr. Berners, in a positive manner.
"It would be useless, dear Lyon, for me to tell you that I was rather
wider awake then than I am now, yet I really was," said Sybil, with
equal assurance.
"And yet you did not lift hand or voice to call my attention to what was
going on."
"I did not wish to do it; my will seemed palsied. I could only gaze at
the awful procession and think how ghastly it was, and thinking so, I
sank into a dreamless sleep, and knew no more until I woke up this
afternoon."
"Meanwhile let us go and look at the door of the vault. You say the
door was wide open?" inquired Captain Pendleton.
"Of course it was wide open: that is, wide open last night when those
horrible forms came up out of the vault; but this morning it was fast
enough," answered Sybil.
"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Berners.
"I know what that 'oh!' means, Lyon. But I hope before we leave this
chapel that you will find out that I can distinguish a dream from a
dreadful reality," observed his wife.
Meanwhile they had reached the iron door of the vault. It was fast.
Pendleton took hold of the iron bars and tried to shake it; but the bars
were bedded in solid stone, and the door was immovable. Then he looked
through the grating down into the depths below, but he only saw the top
of the staircase, the bottom of which disappeared in the darkness.
"My dear Mrs. Berners," he then said, turning to Sybil, "I do not like
to differ with a lady in a matter of her 'own experience'; but as we are
in search of the truth, and the truth happens to be of the most vital
importance to our safety, I feel constrained to assure you that this
door, from its very appearance, assures us that it can not have been
opened within half a century, and that consequently your 'own
experience' of the last night cannot have been a reality, but must have
been a dream."
"I wish you could dream such a one, and then you would know something
about it," answered Sybil.
"I think you will have to come to my theory about the opium," put in Mr.
Berners, "especially as I have pursued my 'phantom' one stage farther in
her flight, and am able to assign a possible motive for her secret
visits to the chapel."
"Ah! do that, and we will think about agreeing with your views. Now then
the motive," exclaimed Pendleton.
"A lover."
"Oh!"
"Yes, a lover. She comes here to meet him; and not liking eye-witnesses
to the courtship, she drugged us," said Mr. Berners, triumphantly.
"That is the most violent and far-fetched theory of the mystery. Nothing
but our desperate need of an elucidation could excuse its being put
forward," said Captain Pendleton, drily. Then he spoke more earnestly:
"Berners, whatever may be the true explanation of all that we have
experienced here, one thing seems certain: that your retreat here is
known to at least one person, who may or may not be inimical to your
interests. Now my advice to you is still the same. Stop this girl the
first time you see her again, and compel her to give an account of
herself. Conceal your names and stations from her, if possible, and in
any case bribe her to silence upon the subject of your abode here. If it
were prudent, I should counsel you to leave this chapel for some other
place of concealment; but really there seems now more danger in moving
than in keeping still. So I reiterate my advice, that you shall enlist
this strange girl in your interests."
"But before cooking your hare, you must catch it," said Sybil. "We may
see this visitant a dozen times more, but we will never be able to stop
her. She appears and vanishes! Is seen and gone in an instant! But,
Captain Pendleton, I will tell you what I wish you to do for me."
"I will do anything in the world that you wish, except believe in
ghosts."
"Then you will bring me a crowbar, or whatever the tool or tools may be
with which strong doors may be forced. I want that grated iron door
forced open, that we may go down into that vault and see what it holds."
"Good Heavens Mrs. Berners!" he exclaimed, striking a theatrical
attitude.
"'Would'st bid me burst
The loathsome charnel-house, and
Spread a pestilence?'"
"I want to see what is in it; and I _will_," persisted Sybil.
"Bring the tools when you come again, Pendleton, and we will open the
door, and examine the vault," added Mr. Berners.
"Ugh! you will find it full of coffins and skeletons--
"'And mair o' horrible and awfu'
Whilk e'en to name wad be unlawfu'.'"
"You are in a poetical mood, Pendleton."
"And you are in a sepulchral one. Both effects of the opium, I suppose."
While they talked the sun went down.
Captain Pendleton remained with his friends until the twilight deepened
into darkness; and then, promising to return the next night, and
wondering where he should find his horse, or how he should get home, he
took leave and departed.
The strange life of the refugees in the Haunted Chapel seriously
interfered with their hitherto regular and healthful habits. They had
slept nearly all day, when they should have been awake. And now they
intended to watch all night, partly because it was impossible for them
to sleep any more then, and partly because they wished to stop their
mysterious visitant, in the event of her reappearance.
But the girl in the red cloak came not that night, no, nor even the next
day; nor did any other mysterious visitor or unusual event disturb their
repose, or excite their curiosity.
Late that night their faithful friend returned, according to his
promise. He told them that he had found his poor horse still in the
thicket where he had left him, with water and grass in his reach. That
he had got home in safety, where his absence had not excited any
anxiety, because his sister had supposed him to be at Black Hall.
He then described the funeral of Rosa Blondelle, which had taken place
that day, and which had been attended not only by all the county gentry,
who had gathered to show their respect and sympathy for the dead, but
also by crowds of all sorts of people, who came in curiosity to the
scene.
And then, taking advantage of a few minutes during which Sybil was
engaged in her housekeeping corner of the chapel, he told Mr. Berners
that the search-warrants having failed to find the fugitives, a rumor
had been spread that they had certainly left the neighborhood on the
morning of the murder, and that they had been seen at Alexandria, by a
gentleman who had just come from that city.
"This story," added Captain Pendleton, "is so confidently reported and
believed, that an officer with a warrant has been this day dispatched to
Annapolis."
"Oh! good Heaven! How zealously her old neighbors do hunt my poor
guiltless Sybil," groaned Mr. Berners.
"Take courage! This rumor, together with the journey of the officer to
Annapolis, opens a way for your immediate escape. So I propose that you
prepare to leave this place to-morrow night, and take a bee line to
Norfolk. There you must take the first outward bound ship for Europe,
and remain abroad until you can with safety return home."
At this moment Sybil came up.
Without mentioning to her the existence of the warrants which were out
against her, and which was the only part of Captain Pendleton's
communication that it was expedient to conceal from her, Lyon Berners,
with a smile of encouragement, told her that they were to leave the
Haunted Chapel the next night, to go to Norfolk.
"And we cannot even yet go home?" sighed Sybil.