John Deane of Nottingham Part 12

"You have a bold heart, I hope," said the old woman, "for those who spend a night in this house require one."

"I am not much given to be afraid," answered Jack, laughing; "but what makes you say that?"

"Why, for a good reason: because the old tower is haunted. We didn't like it when we first came here, but we've got accustomed to it. There was an old family lived here in the time of Charles, the king whose head was cut off, when all the men of the family lost their lives in the Civil Wars, and the ladies died of broken hearts, or something of that sort. At all events, the old tower was left deserted, and for many years no one came to live in it. At length, one family came to try and see how it would suit them, but they very soon gave up; and then another and another rented the farm, and tried to stop in the tower, but they could not stand the sights they saw, or the sounds they heard, and threw it up, one after the other. At last my good man and I came here. We were told before what we were to expect, and so we made up our minds for the worst. Well, the very first night we came, as we were sitting here at supper, just as we may be now, we heard the ghosts of the family to whom the tower had belonged all talking away below us. Sometimes it was an old man's voice, then a young girl's, and then the voice of a strong man of middle age, and then a youth, maybe, like yourself, and young children. It was curious to hear them go on in that way. We could not make out what they said exactly, but there was a change in the tone of their voices, just as clearly as if they had been in the room with us.

As to sights, I cannot say that we saw any thing; and I'm not ashamed to confess it, neither my good man nor I felt inclined to go into the chamber below, to have a look at the ghosts. They went on talking for some hours, till we heard them scuffling off to bed, so it seemed, and we therefore followed their example. This went on, as I say, night after night. I need not tell you what we saw when we did see any thing, but I will just advise you to be prepared, should you hear any strange noises; and provided you don't go and interfere with the ghosts, depend upon it they will let you alone."

"Thank you," answered Jack, "for the advice. I never yet have met a ghost, though maybe I shall some day, and if I do I intend to treat it with all due respect."

"You had better treat the ghosts here in that way," observed Burdale, with a peculiar glance at Jack; "I have heard of them before, and I am sure they would not like any one to interfere with them."

"Oh, yes," said the old woman, "we have ghosts inside the house and out of it too. Did you mark that big old oak, as you rode up to the door?

They say there's a ghost lives inside it, of some man who was murdered under its branches years gone by. How he do groan at night sometimes!

It has been the same ever since we came here. At first I could not sleep for listening to him, and thinking what a pain he was in: just like the pains of souls in purgatory." This remark made Jack suspect that his hosts were Romanists.

He could hear very little more about the ghost in the old oak, but he promised next morning to examine the tree, and ascertain in which part of it the spirit resided.

"You had better let he alone," observed the old man; "these sort of gentry don't like anybody to come and pry after them. That's what I think; and so I have let them alone, and he has never come to do me any harm."

The guide and the two old people talked on for a considerable time; but gradually to Jack's ears their voices grew less and less distinct, till his head dropped on the table, and he fell fast asleep. How long he had been asleep he could not tell, but when he awoke he found himself stretched on a pile of straw in a corner of the great hall, so it appeared to him, but no light was burning, and it was with difficulty he could distinguish objects by means of the streaks of moonlight which came through the c.h.i.n.ks of the shutters. He had not been many minutes awake before he heard voices. They were certainly not those of the old people or of Burdale, and they appeared to come from below him. He listened attentively. He had no doubt that they were human voices he heard; in earnest conversation, too. Now high, now low; now the voice was that of a strong, hale man; now that of one shaking with age; now of a bold, eager youth; now several seemed to be speaking together. The tales he had heard that night recurred to his mind. Could it be possible that these were the spirits of the departed owners of the Hagg?

Again he listened, to a.s.sure himself that he had not been misled by fancy. He sat up and rubbed his eyes--still the voices reached his ears. He was const.i.tutionally brave.

"I will not be mocked by real ghosts or pretended spirits," he said to himself, springing to his feet.

He felt for his weapons. His pistols were in his belt and his knife was by his side. He looked about him, and ascertained the position of the doors in the room.

"I can find my way to the top of the stairs which I saw led down into the vaults below," he said to himself, "and I can easily grope my way down-stairs, and find out what these ghosts really are."

To think was to act with him. The moonlight enabled him to find his way with greater ease even than he had expected, and on reaching the top of the stairs he was more sure than ever that people were talking below.

Holding a pistol in one hand, he felt his way with the other, descending the stone steps, careful to make his footing sure before he advanced again. He thus, without breaking his neck, reached the bottom, when not only did he hear the voices more distinctly and catch many of the words which were spoken, but he saw a bright light shining through a c.h.i.n.k of a door before him. He approached the door in the hope of being able to see through the c.h.i.n.k, but this he found was impossible. As, however, he was pressing against the door, it flew open, and what was his amazement to see between two and three dozen people, either sitting or standing round a long table, with many others, strongly armed, scattered about the vault! The noise made by the door as it flew open was heard by the a.s.sembly, and several men sprang forward and seized him ere he could make his retreat.

"An eavesdropper!" exclaimed one.

"We are betrayed!" cried another.

"His mouth must be stopped," muttered a third.

"It would be safer to kill him at once," growled another.

"What has brought you here?" asked a fine, dignified looking man, in a handsome costume of somewhat antique fashion.

"I am a traveller, and put up here on my way to the fens," answered Jack. "I do not wish to injure any one, but hearing voices, and having been told that the house was haunted, I came to see whence they could proceed, not believing that ghosts could make such a racket as disturbed my rest."

"The lad is no spy, or he would not speak as frankly as he does,"

observed the gentleman.

"I can answer for his honesty," said another person, whom Jack had not hitherto noticed, rising from his seat and advancing towards him. "He is ready to serve in a right cause and be of use to his country."

Jack on looking towards the speaker discovered that he was no other than Mr Harwood.

"Thank you, sir," he said, "for your good opinion of me. I was, in truth, on my way to visit you, to give an account of the mode in which I have executed your commissions, and I'm sure that you will bear witness that I am not addicted to telling falsehoods."

"A brave lad, and worth winning for a good cause!" exclaimed the gentleman who had first spoken. "Mr Harwood having answered for your fidelity, you will be put to no inconvenience about this matter, but as we have affairs of importance to discuss, and the night is drawing on apace, you must go back to your bed, and try to persuade yourself that what you have seen is merely a dream which you are not at liberty to mention to any one."

"Though we have met here, Mr Deane, I shall be glad to see you at the Grange, to speak to you more at large than I can now," said Mr Harwood, as he shook Jack by the hand.

Accompanied by two of the persons present, Jack returned once more to the room above, where, having advised him to go to sleep instead of listening to the voices of the ghosts, they left him. He wisely endeavoured to follow their advice.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

JACK AGAIN VISITS HARWOOD GRANGE.

The next morning when the old couple and Burdale made their appearance, they did not in any way allude to what had taken place during the night, as if they had been totally ignorant of it. Breakfast was got ready by the aged dame; and afterwards Jack stole about the building, and found his way without difficulty into the vault below. Not a trace of any of the occupants of the previous evening was to be seen, but how they had gone he could not discover. Certainly they had not come up by the steps by which he had descended, and pa.s.sed through the hall.

As the afternoon approached, Jack became more impatient than ever to pay his proposed visit to Harwood Grange. Mr Harwood had spoken so kindly to him, that he could not help hoping he would not reject him as a son-in-law. At length the hour fixed by Burdale for starting arrived, and Jack eagerly threw himself into the saddle.

"Why, your horse partakes of your spirit," observed his companion, as, clapping his spurs in the horse's side, Jack galloped over the greensward at a rate which put his guide's steed on his mettle.

He would willingly have gone by himself, but unacquainted with that part of the forest, he would scarcely alone have found his way in the dark.

A couple of hours' hard riding, sometimes across cultivated ground, and at others over what remained in a state of nature, brought him to the neighbourhood of the Grange. Leaving the horses with Burdale, who promised to remain concealed with them under a thick clump of trees, he went towards the house on foot. Jack found the Squire waiting for him in a sheltered walk at a short distance from the house, and having delivered the messages and letters he had received from the various persons he had visited, gave him a full account of his adventures.

"You have indeed managed admirably, my young friend," said Mr Harwood.

"You would make a first-rate diplomatist, and I shall have very great satisfaction in recommending you to a good appointment for which your talents peculiarly fit you. You will find Pearson thoroughly trustworthy, and as he advises you to stay for a short time with him in his farm in the fens, I would advise you to accept his invitation. You will meet persons there who will be able to forward your interests, and you will besides find ample amus.e.m.e.nt of various sorts during your stay.

You will come in now, and take some refreshment," he observed; "and my daughter Alethea will be happy to welcome you. We may possibly have some visitors at supper, who are engaged in a certain important undertaking, but do not mention to them, and especially to my daughter, having met me last night. I know that I can trust you, but I am unwilling to implicate others in the matter I have in hand."

As Jack, in company with the Squire, was about to enter the house, he saw a horseman ride out of the courtyard, and kissing his hand to Alethea, who stood at a window overlooking the avenue, take the way towards Nottingham. A second glance at the horseman, though already at some distance, convinced Jack that he was his brother Jasper. He loved his brother. His first impulse was to shout out to him, and to call him back, that he might make inquiries about home, but then, recollecting the accusations brought against him, he dreaded Jasper's rebukes in the presence of the Squire; and next, for the first time in his life, a feeling of jealousy stole over him. Had Jasper--the quiet, studious una.s.suming Jasper--been paying court to the fair heiress of Harwood Grange? And how had Alethea received him?

The Squire having stepped on in front to open a door, prevented him from asking any questions, and he presently found himself ushered into the hall. A shout from Mr Harwood brought Alethea into the open gallery at one end of it; and seeing Jack, she at once came down-stairs. She greeted him in a friendly way, and then, not without some embarra.s.sment, told him that he had narrowly missed seeing his brother.

"Had I known of your coming, I would have begged him to stop and meet you," she said, looking, however, down on the floor as she spoke. "You will, however, probably overtake him if you go on to Nottingham to-night, or you will see him with the rest of your family to-morrow."

Jack replied that circ.u.mstances would prevent him returning home. He naturally felt disinclined to tell Alethea more of the truth than was necessary. They had little time for conversation before the servant announced that supper was ready, when two other persons were seen crossing the hall in the direction of the supper-room.

"Some friends I told you that you might possibly meet," observed the Squire to Jack, as they took their seats at the table.

From the dress of the strangers, Jack at once came to the conclusion that they were ecclesiastics or ministers of some denomination. When he glanced at the countenance of the man opposite to him, he had little doubt that he at least was a priest of the Church of Rome. The person had a somewhat pale face and hollow cheeks, with bright intelligent eyes, and thin, undemonstrative lips. His was one of those countenances formed rather to conceal than express the thoughts of the mind. The first words uttered by the other man, who sat by his side, made Jack turn round to examine his features, for in the tones of his voice he recognised those of the Reverend Simon Stirthesoul. He looked at him again and again. The form of the features was the same, but their expression was now very different. Once Jack caught him eyeing him, as he was bending down over his plate, and he felt sure, by the cunning expression of the man's face, that he was not mistaken. Still Master Simon gave no other sign of recognition. His dress, though different from that which he had before worn, did not stamp him positively as a priest of Rome, though its cut and colour were such as were generally worn by clericals in those days. Each time the man spoke Jack was more and more convinced that he was Master Simon Stirthesoul. At the same time, so earnest was his application to the viands placed before him, that he did not indulge himself much in entering into conversation.

That was chiefly kept up by Alethea and Jack's opposite neighbour, who devoted himself to her. His conversation indeed was agreeable, for he had visited many countries, and had shrewd remarks to make on all he had seen. Jack at length heard him describing Rome, and picturing the glories of the Eternal City.

"Ah, Miss Harwood," he exclaimed, "there we have the blessing of pure religion, sanctioned by the authority of the ancient Fathers, by the great Apostle Peter, and by Councils, and by the infallible head of the Church--the Pope himself! What a blessing to have no dissent, no difference of opinion; all united in one brotherhood, under one loving father, and to be relieved of all care and responsibility, and to know that whatever the Church decides is a right thing for us to believe!"

From what the person said, Jack had now no longer any doubt that he was a priest of Rome; but the more he listened the less inclined he became to acknowledge the correctness of his a.s.sertion. Jack watched Alethea's countenance, and he could not help hoping that neither did she altogether agree with him. They seemed, however, to have more effect upon Mr Harwood, for whom, in all probability, they were equally intended. His fathers had been Romanists, and he himself, though belonging to the Church of England, had never very perfectly imbibed Protestant truth. Master Stirthesoul made no remark, which surprised Jack, as the doctrines put forth by the priest were diametrically opposed to those which that worthy had himself been a short time ago enunciating to the public. There was a twinkle occasionally in his eye, but that might have arisen from the pleasure with which he was discussing the viands placed before him, and Jack could not discover whether he approved or not of the doctrines which were being laid down.

Still it was curious to find two persons of apparently different opinions so closely a.s.sociated with each other, as it was evident was the case.

Jack all the time was longing to have some private conversation with Alethea; but the other guests showed no inclination to take their departure; and he felt that he could not remain much longer, as his companion, Burdale, would naturally be becoming impatient. He himself could not agree with the priest's remarks, plausible as they were.

Though he had not seen much of Romanists, he had heard a good deal of what took place at Rome, and believed truly that the union spoken of was very far from being real. He had heard, too, of a Spanish army of Roman Catholics attacking Rome, and of its being given up to them to pillage, they having treated the dignitaries of the Church and the Pope himself with even less respect than did their Protestant brothers-in-arms. He had heard, too, that it was not proved that Peter had ever been at Rome, much less that he was a Bishop of that city; and he was not altogether ignorant of the existence of the Inquisition, and of the mode by which that inst.i.tution endeavoured to support the Church of Rome and the dogmas it inculcated.

The more the priest praised Rome and its system, the more anxious Jack became to speak to Alethea on the subject, and to do away with any impression he might have made. He had a clear, straightforward way of looking at things, the characteristic of the best type of Englishmen.