Cruel As The Grave Part 23

Again nothing but the consciousness of a heavy fee would have induced the host of the "Antlers" to put up with this traveller's "nonsense," as he termed his general a.s.sumption of superiority.

"What would you like to hear about, then, sir?" growled the landlord.

"First, what important families have you in this part of the country?"

"Well, sir, the most principlest is the Bernerses of Black Hall, which have returned from their bridal tour about a month ago and taken up their abode there in the old ancestral home."

"The Berners! Who are they?" inquired the traveller, carelessly trifling with the wing of a pheasant.

"You must be a stranger indeed, sir, not to know the Bernerses of Black Hall," said the landlord, with an expression of strong disapprobation.

"Well, as I don't know them, and as they seem to be persons of the highest distinction, perhaps you will tell me all about them," said the traveller.

And the landlord not unwillingly gave the guest the full history of the Berners of Black Hall, down to the marriage of the last heiress, at which the bridegroom took the name of the bride's family. And then he described the situation of the Hall and the way in which it might be reached, and ended by saying:

"And if you think of making any stay in this neighborhood, sir, and will send your card to Mr. and Mrs. Berners, they will be sure to call on you and show you every attention in their power, sir; invite you to their house, introduce you to the neighbors, make parties for you, and make you generally welcome among us."

"They are very hospitable, then?"

"Hospitable! Why, sir, even when they were on their bridal tour, they fell in with a lovely lady in distress, and what do they do but pay her bills at the hotel, and fetch her and her child and her servant, all, bag and baggage, home with themselves, to stay at Black Hall as long as ever she likes?"

"Indeed! That was a very unusual stretch of hospitality. And this lady is still with them?" inquired the stranger.

"She is that, sir; although the word do go around that it would be well if she was to go away."

"Ah! why so?"

"Well, sir--but, lord, it is all servants' gossip, and there may be nothing in it; but they do say that the master of the house is too fond of the visitor, and likewise she of him; and that this do make the mistress of the house very unhappy."

"Ah!" exclaimed the stranger, in a half-suppressed voice.

"They do say, sir, that whenever the mistress turns her back, they two--the master and the guest--do go on like any pair of sweethearts, which is a great scandal, if it's true."

"Ah ha!" muttered the stranger, clenching and grinding his teeth.

"Howsever, sir, if the master is in love with the visitor, and the mistress is made unhappy thereby, that is no reason why they should put off their mask ball and disappoint the whole community, I suppose they think; so they have not done so; but they have their ball this evening, just as if they were the happiest household in the country."

"Oh, a mask ball have they, this evening! And what sort of an affair is it to be?"

"Well, sir, the ball is to be like other b.a.l.l.s, I believe, only that the guests are to appear in fancy dresses, or in loose gowns called dominoes, and to wear false faces until supper-time, when they unmask and reveal themselves to each other."

"Yes, that is just like other mask b.a.l.l.s," said the stranger, and then he seemed to fall into thought for a few minutes; and then, rousing himself, he said:

"Landlord, you told me that your house is very full to-night, and so you must have a great deal of business on your hands."

"I just have, sir," replied the impatient host.

"Then I will not detain you any longer from your other guests. Pray send the waiter to remove this service immediately. And then, I think, as I am very much fatigued by my stage-coach journey over your beastly roads, I will retire to bed," said the stranger.

And the landlord, glad to be relieved, got up and bowed himself out.

His exit was soon followed by the entrance of the waiter who quickly cleared the table and also retired.

The next proceedings of the stranger were rather singular.

As soon as he found himself quite alone, he locked his door, to secure himself from any possibility of interruption, and hung a towel over the key-hole, to guard his movements from observation, and then he unlocked his portmanteau, and took from it a strange and horrible disguise, that I will try to describe, so as to make it plain to the reader.

It was a tight-fitting suit, the pantaloons and jacket being made all in one piece, and of such elastic material as to fit close to the form.

The ground of this dress was black; but upon it was painted, in strong relief of white, the blanched bones of a skeleton--thus: down the legs of the pantaloons were traced the long bare leg bones, with the large joints of the hips, knees, and ankles; across the body was traced the white ribs, breast-bone, and collar-bone; and down the sleeves were traced the long bones of the arms, with the large shoulder-blades, elbow-joints, and wrists; the bones of the hands were traced in white upon tight-fitting black gloves, and those of the feet upon tight-fitting black socks: a round scull-cap was to be drawn over the head; this was all white, to represent the skull, and had its skeleton features marked out with black.

The stranger having divested himself of his upper garments then put on this horrible dress. When he had finished his revolting toilet, even to the drawing on of the skull-cap, he surveyed himself in the mirror that reflected as ghastly a figure of "Death," as Milton, Dante, or even Gustav Dore, ever conceived.

He laughed sardonically, as he exclaimed:

"Ah ha! they will not expect 'Death' to be a guest at their ball!"

Then over this grim costume he threw a large travelling cloak, and upon his head he placed a broad-brimmed black felt hat. And now, being all ready, he prepared to leave the room.

First he put out the light, and then he cautiously unlocked the door, and, secure from observation himself, he looked out to see if the coast was clear.

The pa.s.sage was dark, but soon he saw a door on the opposite side open, and two young men come out in masquerade dresses, and hasten, laughing and talking, down the stairs. They were evidently on their way to the mask ball.

The next instant, the door on the same side with his own opened, and a lady and gentleman, both in black dominoes and masks, came out and pa.s.sed down stairs.

"Good!" said the stranger to himself. "If I am met at all, I shall be mistaken for one of the invited guests of the ball, and pa.s.s out without being recognized." And so saying, he softly drew the key from the inside of the lock, and closed and locked the door, and taking the key with him, glided down the stairs and out of the house, and took the road to Black Hall.

CHAPTER XV.

THE MASQUERADE BALL.

Light up the mansion, spread the festive board; Welcome the gay, the n.o.ble, and the fair!

Through the bright hall in joyous concert poured, Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care!

But ask thou not if happiness be there, If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe, Or if the brow the heart's true livery wear; Lift not the festal mask!--enough to know No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe!

--WALTER SCOTT.

The whole front of Black Hall blazed with festive lights; and these lights were all reflected in the dark waters of the lake, and by the glowing foliage of the trees that clothed the mountains, and by the sparkling spray of the cascades that sprung from the rocks on the other side.

The s.p.a.ce immediately before the house was crowded with carriages of every description, from the splendid open barouche to the comfortable family coach and the plain gig.

The portico and pa.s.sages in front of the house were thronged with arriving guests and waiting attendants ready to show them to the dressing-rooms, which were lighted and warmed, and supplied with every convenience for the completion of the toilets.

The drawing-room and dancing saloon brilliantly lighted by chandeliers, and beautifully decorated with festoons of dark bright evergreens and wreaths of gorgeous autumn leaves and bouquets of splendid autumn flowers, stood ready with wide open doors to welcome the company.

At the hall door, at the head of the servants, stood Mr. Joseph Joy the house steward, and Miss Tabitha Winterose the housekeeper, both disgusted with the heathenish costumes, distracted with the confusion, disapproving of the whole proceedings, yet determined to do their duty.