A Book for the Young Part 6

"Why, sir, n.o.body can live there. Don't you know there's a ghost seen there every night."

"Oh," replied papa, "we shall soon, I think, send the ghost off packing."

"Send a ghost off packing! really, sir, you must pardon me, but you are a strange gentleman. Dear! dear! why do you know that four or five have tried to live there and couldn't, for the ghost wouldn't let 'em.

You may laugh, but it's a real truth, that it drove every mother's son away; yes not one of them could stay."

"Well, my good Mrs. Davis, we shall soon see whether I can or not; at any rate I shall try."

"Well you certainly are a stout-hearted gentleman, and you must please remember, whatever comes of it, I warned you. Why, there was James Reece, a bold reckless fellow and a very wicked one into the bargain, who feared nothing nor n.o.body, agreed, for five pounds to stay the night, and was never heard of any more, and some go so far as to say, his ghost has been seen alongside the others once or twice."

"The others," repeated papa, "why you don't mean to say there is more than one?"

"Yes, sure sir, two or three; but 'tis no use telling you, for I really think you are unbelieving as a Jew," and away trotted the old dame, talking to herself as fast as she chatted to papa.

The next morning, after another ineffectual effort from Mrs. Davis, to persuade him to give it up, papa went and concluded, what appeared to him, an excellent bargain, with the lawyer, who was too anxious to serve his employer, not to try and make light of the reports, and not only this, but to fix papa so, that he could not possibly retract.

He came to the Inn and dined with us. Poor Mrs. Davis appeared rather in awe of him; as she never spoke a word, but as she came in and out with different things, she gave papa some very significant looks; but always behind Mr. Crawford's back. No sooner had that gentleman left us, than papa told me, he had made up his mind to take possession of his new purchase, by pa.s.sing the night in the haunted house.

Charles you are my most intimate friend; and therefore, I may open my heart to you, and tell you honestly, (but mind, not a word to the other boys, when we get back to school) that my heart began to fail me; I know it ought not, for I had been taught better things, and should not have suffered myself to have been influenced, by an ignorant old woman.

There was a bedstead left in one of the rooms, put up by a gentleman who had nearly bought the place, and who, hearing such dreadful stories, determined to try and pa.s.s a night there, ere he finally closed:--but people said he heard such strange noises, and saw such odd sights, that he ran away and never returned; the bed and bedding had, the country people believed, all vanished at the bidding of the ghost; indeed, some scrupled not to say, that he had himself been spirited away. Papa said when _he_ heard it, that most likely he was ashamed of his cowardice, and that this prevented his going again to the village.

Papa sent for Mr. Davis, or Griffy Davis, as his wife was pleased to call him; but the old body herself came, and entreated of papa not to try and entice him to accompany us; for it seems that papa's cool and determined manner had made a great impression on Griffy, who, perhaps, got more sceptical on these matters, on account of it. Mrs. Davis was so importunate on the subject, that she obtained the desired a.s.surance, viz., that Griffeth Davis should not be directly or indirectly tempted to encounter the ghost or ghosts, as the case might be. The old man soon came, and you would have laughed to see the old dame's rubicond face, with her large grey eyes, peering over his shoulder; for, notwithstanding; the promise given, she had some doubts that he might be induced to try his prowess in the haunted chamber.

Papa asked him if he knew any strong bodied young man whom a good sum of money would induce to accompany him and stay the night. Griffy scratched his head, and pondered some short time; till at length, he said he knew, but one at all likely; they were he said all so plaguey timerous, or timmersome I believe was the word; but he thought Davy Evans might go if well paid, if he were certain papa would remain too; but another doubt was started; Davy had talked of taking some cattle to a fair some miles off, and might be gone: however, it turned out, that he was on hand, and agreeable to go, with the understanding, that he was to have his money, even if papa was conquered by the ghost, or had to run for his ghostship. This was soon obviated; by papa's depositing the money in Mrs. Davis' hands; an arrangement that seemed to give great satisfaction to Davy. The next difficulty was the bedding necessary, this, as Mrs. Davis never expected to see it again, had to be paid for. Davy Evans, seemed a stout stalwart fellow, who had rather a good countenance. Papa who had put the same question before; again asked, "if he were sure he was not afraid."

"Oh no, sir," said Davy, "not a bit, thank G.o.d, I never intentionally harmed man, woman, or child, or wronged them, that I of, in any way, and therefore, I may trust in Providence, go wherever I will, and I certainly ain't afraid of the ghosts up there."

"But your courage may fail you, my friend, at the last."

"There's nothing like trying, sir, I haven't been in these parts long; and I know there's strange noises to be heard, but then a little noise breaks no bones and can't hurt me; and as to a ghost, why, seeing its made of air, that can't do much mischief either, especially to flesh and blood, can it now?"

"Well, my friend, we'll try the question, however, very soon," said my father.

I must own, Charles, I again began to feel a little queer, and I think papa noticed it, for he told me to please myself as to going with him or staying at the inn. I was nervous, though I felt sure nothing could really harm me, and then, I recollected, I should always repent, if my courage failed me, so I said boldly out,

"I shall certainly go with you, papa."

"Very well, my son, but even now, if you had rather stay behind, I do promise not to reflect on you afterwards, therefore, act just as your feelings prompt you. I am, myself, so fully persuaded that not anything supernatural can or will harm us, that I am determined to find out what can have led to such extraordinary reports."

"But papa, do you not think ghosts are sometimes to be seen?"

"Frederic," said he, "I will not pretend to say what a guilty conscience or over-heated imagination may have conjured up and fancied, but as I have neither, I do not expect to see anything supernatural; but, as I said before, having heard so much about the mysteries of this place, I think, that even had I not made the purchase, I should like to find them out."

"But if you see the ghost, papa, will you then believe in such things?"

"Wait till, to-morrow, Fred; these are silly suppositions for a religious well educated boy to make, from whom far better things might be expected. Now, only reflect a moment, and then ask yourself what good can these appearances do."

I really now began to be quite ashamed of myself, and thought I was not only foolish, but wicked, in giving credence to the superst.i.tious nonsense I had heard.

Mrs. Davis now coming in with some things papa had ordered to take with him; again ventured to say she hoped he would not repent going to Castle Hill, adding she would pay every attention to the young gentleman, meaning myself, in his absence.

"If I am not mistaken, he would rather accompany me Mrs. Davis, he has been early taught to fear nothing but acting wickedly; and I feel very sure be will not shrink from pa.s.sing the night where I do; however he can please himself."

Mrs. Davis actually looked aghast! and though I again expressed my readiness and determination to go, I own I was a _little, a very little_ afraid.

"Well, it must be as you please, I see you are a gentleman not very soon turned, when you make up your mind to do a thing."

"What time may we expect, this said ghost to visit us. When does it usually appear?"

"Why, Sir, generally they say from twelve till two; well you may smile," said she seeing papa unable to control his features, "but its not once I have warned you, nor twice either."

"You have done so" said papa "and I feel certainly much obliged by your kind intentions. I always heard the Welsh were superst.i.tious; but could not have believed they carried it to such an extent as you do in this neighbourhood."

"It may be so; but you are so very unbelieving. May be you don't believe in corpse candles."

"Oh yes, when they're lighted I do."

"And ain't they always lighted."

"What do you mean," said papa, "are they not the lights you burn during the night, while a dead body lies unburied."

"Bless your innocent heart! No. The corpse candies, are seen burning and moving of themselves, afore people die; coming down the roads from the houses they live in as a warning."

"A warning for what my dear Mrs. Davis? what earthly purpose can they answer? have we not warning enough in the daily events of our lives to impress us with the instability of life, and yet how rarely does death find us prepared."

"Well, well; you may be as unbelieving as you like, and talk as you will: I shall always believe when I see a corpse candle, there'll be a death but just wait till you pa.s.s one night in Castle Hill; may be you'll tell a different story then!"

"The long and the short of the matter, Mrs. Davis is this, I liked the property, and have bought it; and am determined to reside in it if G.o.d, spares my life. As to the ghost or ghosts, I am well persuaded that, although some natural causes may render the house and premises untenable; supernatural ones I am sure have nothing to do with it."

Time pa.s.sed on and the clock struck eight; the hour fixed on, to leave the inn, for Castle Hill: when papa brought a large trunk and basket, which he had tried to fix on Davy's shoulders; but strong as he was, he was unable to carry them both, he therefore got a wheel barrow, for the trunk; while papa and I carried the basket between us, and off we started. A great concourse of people were at the door; many of whom accompanied us to the foot of the hill, and there left us.

We went in and took up our quarters in the room, in which was the bedstead and which was considered to be the most constant rendezvous of the ghost. Davy lighted a good fire and found a table and three chairs one of which however proved rickety, so Davy had to seat himself on the trunk. To our surprise we found the bedstead not in the same place in which we saw it in the morning. This rather, at least so I thought, astonished papa; however he made no comment on the circ.u.mstance.

Papa had taken care to bring a good supper; He also brought a large pair of pistols, and we had a blunderbuss, the latter, the property of our friend Davy. These with a sword he arranged to his own satisfaction under the pillow, and in about an hour, we sat down to a good and substantial supper. Davy offered to replace what was left in the basket but papa jokingly told him to leave it for the ghost. We now sat for nearly an hour and a half, and except some occasional out burst of merriment, as Davy told us some droll things, about the ghost, which were current in the village, we were as still as we well could be.

At last I got very sleepy, as well I might, for it was nearly twelve o'clock. Papa made me lie down and said he thought he would do so himself; not thinking he said, it was necessary to shew so much courtesy to the ghost, as wait for it. We did not undress. Davy fixed himself before the, fire and soon gave proof, that he was asleep, by snoring most loudly.

Mind my dear Charles, in giving you this account, that papa told me about it afterwards; for I had fallen asleep too.

Till five minutes to twelve all was quiet as the grave, and then commenced the slamming of the doors and knockings, and thumpings, as if done with the instrument the paviours use to beat down the stones they pave with. This continued some minutes, and then the door gradually opened, and a female, tall and thin, entered, dressed in an old fashioned yellow brocade, with a sweeping train. Over her head was thrown an immense gauze veil; her features were sharp and she was very pale. She paused as she entered, and advancing half way from the door to the bed she again made a full stop, upon which papa rose up and sat on the bed, when she threw out her arms, exclaiming:

"Impious and daring mortal; why presumest thou to intrude here, where none like thee are permitted to come? Of all those who have attempted it. None have ever been left to tell the tale!"

"Indeed!" said my father advancing towards her. "I trust you will make me an exception, however."

"Hold!" said she "nor dare come nigh to one, whose nature is so different to thine own."

"Aye!" said my father "who then and what art thou?"