Pixie O'Shaughnessy Part 16

Silence was rightly interpreted as consent, and having gained her point, Esmeralda was wreathed in smiles and amiability for the rest of the evening.

The Major dispensed with his toga at an early hour, and Nun and Ghost alike shed their wrappings and appeared in ordinary evening dress; but Esmeralda was too complacently conscious of looking her best to make any change in her attire. Dinner pa.s.sed hilariously enough, and then, the rain having ceased, the Major put on his coat and went out for a walk in the grounds, while the ladies retired to their snuggery upstairs and made themselves comfortable round the fire. To them entered presently Master Pat, white knight no longer, but an ordinary shabby stripling with pensive eyes and an innocent expression. He sat himself down in leisurely fashion, and gazed at his second sister with melancholy interest, as one far removed from youthful follies and grieved to behold them in those he held dear.

"You are the only one who has kept on her dress! I suppose you don't mind what you suffer, so long as you make an appearance! It's a pity, as you said, that there is no one to admire you, but if you would like to meet a stranger, why don't you go for a walk down the left wing and back by the hall? The moonlight is shining in at the windows, and you know the old saying that if you walk by yourself in the moonlight to- night you will see the spirit of your future husband waiting for you!

You might have a peep at him now, and come back and tell us what he is like!"

Esmeralda turned her head on the cushion, and looked at him with a lazy smile.

"What nonsense are you talking? You are thinking of Hallowe'en, stupid!

That has nothing to do with to-day!"

"It has, then! It's just as good as Christmas Eve. We been told so by those that know, but you want to get out of it because you haven't the pluck. All girls are afraid of the dark."

"You said yourself it was moonlight! I shouldn't be afraid to walk the whole round of the Castle if it came to that, but I don't see why I should. I'm snug and comfortable here, and it's not worth disturbing myself to convince a boy like you!"

"So you say." Pat wagged his head in undisguised scepticism. "It's easy to talk, my dear, but I should prefer actions to words. You made a poor show on that ladder yesterday, and I don't like to own a coward for my sister. Look here now, you were worrying me to give you that racket, and I said I would do nothing of the kind, but I'll change my mind and hand it over to you to-night, if you will walk that round and come back here without letting a single howl out of you the whole time!"

Bridgie drew her brows together and looked suspicious at this unwonted generosity, but Esmeralda sprang to her feet, all eagerness and excitement.

"You will now? Honour bright? If I walk down the left wing, go down the circular staircase, and round by the hall, you will hand the racket over when I come back?"

"I will so!"

"You hear that, you girls? You are witnesses, remember! I'm off this minute, and if I meet my spouse I'll bring him back for a warm by the fire, so stoke up and get a good blaze. I hope he will think I am becomingly arrayed."

He was sure to do that, was Mademoiselle's reflection as she smiled back into the sparkling face, and watched the tall figure flit down the corridor. Quite ghost-like it looked in the cold blue rays which came in through the windows, the dead white of the dress standing out sharply against the darkness of the background. It was almost as if the spirit of one of those old ancestors whose portraits lined the walls had come back to revisit her old home, and Bridgie shivered as she looked, and turned on Pat with unusual sharpness.

"What nonsense are you up to now? She'll not catch anything but her death of cold, wandering about those galleries with her bare arms and neck. Spirits indeed! You ought to know better than to believe in such nonsense; but there's some mischief afoot, or you wouldn't be so generous all of a sudden. What's the meaning of it now? Tell me this minute!"

Pat's grin of delight extended from ear to ear; he stood in obstinate silence until the last flicker of whiteness disappeared in the distance, then shut the door, and deliberately barred it with his back.

"Sit down, then, and I'll give the history; but don't attempt to get out, for you'll not pa.s.s this door except over my dead body. You say she won't meet anybody, do you? That's where you are wrong, for he's waiting for her at this very minute. He came ringing at the door five minutes ago, the young Englishman that's with the Trelawneys, and that father was after offering a mount to the other day. 'Is Mr O'Shaughnessy at home?' says he. 'He is, sir,' says Molly, knowing no better, for she never had a sight of the Major after dinner. 'Can I see him for a moment? I'll not come farther than the hall, for the cart's waiting, and I am not fit to enter a room.' So with that he comes in, six foot two, if he's an inch, and covered from head to foot in a shiny white mackintosh, with his head peeping out on top, and I've seen uglier men than him before this. I was coming down the stairs after shedding me sheets, and Molly was asking me where the Major might be, so I told her to send Dennis in search, and I was all smiles and apologies for the darkness of the place, with only the one lamp and the fire dying out on the hearth. 'I'll fetch more light,' says I, and, 'Pray do nothing of the kind. It's charming to see this fine old place lit up by the moonlight; I could study it for an hour on end. A perfect setting for a ghost story, isn't it?' says he, smiling, and with that he crosses over to the window, and by the same token it was a regular ghost he looked himself, all tall, and straight, and shiny white. Then it walked into my head what a jest it would be to send Esmeralda to meet him, and the two of them each thinking the other was a ghost, and frightened out of their seven senses. So I excused myself, polite like, saying I would speak to my sister, and the rest of the tale you know for yourselves. I taunted her with cowardice to make her rise to the occasion, but that wouldn't work, and time was pa.s.sing, so I turned to bribery, but by good fortune I'll keep my racket yet. At this very moment she will be feeling her way cautiously down that stair, and he'll be hearing the creak, and coming forward to see the cause. All bluey white they'll be, and each one so scared by the sight of the other that they'll hardly dare to breathe. Listen now while I open the door, and you may hear her squeal."

"Patrick O'Shaughnessy, ye graceless boy, how dare you take such a liberty with your sister! A strange man,--an Englishman,--and Esmeralda knowing nothing about him, and believing there is no one near! Let me pa.s.s now! Stand aside this moment! Patrick O'Shaughnessy, will you let me pa.s.s, or will you not?"

"I will not!" returned Pat st.u.r.dily. "It's my joke, and I'm not going to have it spoiled. You leave them to fight it out between themselves, and if they come out alive you'll hear the tale first hand. 'What do my eyes behold?' says he. 'What fairy form is this I see before me?'

'Pity me!' says she. 'What's that white pillar over there by the window? It's a dust sheet that Molly has been hanging over the curtains, and maybe the draught is making it move. Oh, oh, oh, there's a head to it! It's alive! It comes towards me! What will I do? What will I do?'"

Pat clasped his hands in affected terror, and shrieked in clever imitation of his sister's manner. The door was still ajar, and as he stopped a sound from below rose faintly to the ears of his companions, a second shriek so alike in tone and expression that it might have been the echo of his own. "Pixie," cried Bridgie wildly, "at him, Pixie! At him!" And like a flash of lightning Pixie lay p.r.o.ne on the floor with her arms wound tightly round Pat's legs. He swayed and staggered, clutched at the wall, and felt Mademoiselle's arms nip him from behind, as the door flew open, and Bridgie sped like a lapwing along the gallery.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE WHITE LADY.

Esmeralda set out on her expedition in the highest spirits, for a girl who is brought up on a regime of outdoor sport is not troubled with nerves, and she laughed at the suggestion of ghosts with the scorn which it deserved. What she did not laugh at, however, was the promise of Pat's racket, a gift to him from an absent G.o.dfather, and coveted by all his brothers and sisters, but by none so much as Esmeralda, who played a very pretty game of her own, and felt a conviction that she could distinguish herself still more if she possessed a good racket instead of the old one which had done duty for years, and was now badly sprung.

Pat had promised in the presence of witnesses to hand over his treasure if she returned to the schoolroom without--oh, elegant expression!--"letting a howl out of her," and Esmeralda smiled to herself at the unlikeliness of such a proceeding. Why, except for the cold air, it was really a treat to walk along the disused old gallery which traversed the left wing of the Castle, where the moonbeams shone in through the long row of windows with such picturesque effect. She sauntered along, enjoying the scene with artistic appreciation, even feeling a sense of satisfaction in her own appropriate attire. Powdered hair and hooped skirt seemed more in keeping with the surroundings than the bicycling dress of everyday life, and it was an agreeable variety to pose as one's own great-grandmother once in a way.

Esmeralda reached the end of the gallery, and stretched a hand on either side, to feel her way down the circular stone staircase which would lead her into the entrance hall below. This means of descent was rarely used, and was now in a semi-ruinous condition, the stone steps being so much worn with the action of time that it required some little care to descend safely in the darkness. She stood poised on each step, extending a pretty foot to find a secure resting-place on the one below; round the curve where the darkness was almost complete, then coming into sight of the hall, with the moonlight making long streaks of light across the floor, and in the distance a yellow gleam from the solitary lamp.

Only three more steps remained to be descended, when suddenly she stopped short, drawing her breath sharply, for there by the second window stood a man's tall form, all straight and still, and of a curious shining whiteness. The face was turned aside, but at the sound of that gasping sob it turned slowly round, and a pair of keen, steel-like eyes stared into hers.

Geoffrey Hilliard had been thoroughly enjoying this opportunity of studying the features of the fine old hall, and making a note of them for future use. "What a magnificent old place!" he said to himself.

"Trelawney says the man is at his last gasp, and will positively have to turn out before long. Poor beggar! I pity him. It must be heartbreaking to leave an old place like this, where one's ancestors have lived for generations, where every stone has its history, and the spirits of the departed seem still hovering in the air. Halloa, what's that?"

He turned his head, and peering round the corner of that quaintest of stone staircases beheld a vision at sight of which he stood transfixed and astounded. Spirits of ancestors, indeed! Here was one before his very eyes, a picture out of its frame, a dream of grace and beauty such as is not vouchsafed to mortal eyes in this commonplace, matter-of-fact twentieth century! The first glance was admiration alone, the second brought a thrill of something uncomfortably like fear, for to the most unsuperst.i.tious of minds there was still something unpleasantly eerie in this unexpected apparition. Motionless as a figure of stone stood the White Lady, her body craned forward, one hand resting against the wall, the other drawing aside the quilted skirt; the moonlight fell full on the face, and showed it stiff and rigid as a sculptor's block.

For one moment Geoffrey felt incapable of movement, but the next commonsense returned, and a dozen matter-of-fact explanations darted into his head. What he saw was no figure, but simply a statue, a reflection, a curious effect of light. He must examine the phenomenon at close quarters, and find a solution with which to confound the superst.i.tious in the future. No sooner said than done, and he stepped forward, momentarily averting his eyes, to make his sight the more searching. When he opened them again the figure still confronted him; but now the position seemed slightly altered, for instead of bending forward she had drawn back, as if to avoid his approach.

A dread seized him lest the phenomenon might vanish altogether before he had had time to discover its character; he gave a sudden leap forward, and to his dismay beheld the figure stagger forward, and collapse in a heap on the lowest stair. In an instant his arms were round her, and two warm living hands came together with a shock of surprise. Masculine ghost lifted, and feminine ghost struggled and pinched in a manner unmistakably human. But if Geoffrey Hilliard's matter-of-fact mind leapt to a quick understanding of the real situation, Esmeralda was much more sensational in her explanation. He remembered that it was Christmas Eve, a time when some family festivity, of which fancy-dress was a feature, might well be in progress; she leapt to the dramatic conclusion that this was a thief masquerading in ghost's attire, the better to make his escape in the event of discovery.

Cowardly ruffian! He should not find it so easy as he expected! If it was only a girl whom he had encountered, he should find that she was not so easily shaken off as he expected. To Hilliard's intense amazement he felt the hands fasten suddenly round his arm, the white fingers grip his flesh with no uncertain grasp. The premeditated apologies died upon his lips, as the White Lady became rosy red, and her lips parted to show teeth set in threatening anger. He stepped back, or tried to do so, but she clung only the closer; he laughingly tried to move her hand from his arm, at which she shrieked aloud, and struggled valiantly.

"No, no, you shall not go! You shall stay here until my father comes!"

"That is just what I want to do! Pardon me, there is really no necessity to hold me so fast. I am not going to run away!" returned the young fellow, laughing, but in a somewhat impatient fashion. He had no ambition to be discovered in this melodramatic att.i.tude, and once more made an effort to escape. The grasp on her wrist was gentle, but withal wonderfully strong, and to Esmeralda's horror she found it impossible to struggle against it. The thought that the thief was escaping after all was too humiliating to be borne, and as one hand after the other was forced back she grew desperate, and raised her voice in a shrill cry for help.

"Help! Help! Murder! Thieves! He-l-p!"

"My dear, good girl!" exclaimed the Murderer blankly, overcome with amazement, and allowing himself to be once more seized in a detaining grasp, while Esmeralda poured the vials of her wrath upon him.

"How dare you call me names! It's a horsewhip you'll be feeling on your back for this, once my father is here. I'll hold you tight till he comes!"

The stranger looked at her, tried to speak, choked hopelessly, and was just attempting a stammering, "You are really most--complimentary!" when the sound of flying footsteps came from above, and Bridgie rushed headlong down the staircase. Poor Bridgie, what a sight was that which met her eye! In the middle of the hall stood the figure of the tall Englishman, his face all sparkling with fun, his arms hanging slack by his sides, while Esmeralda clasped him in close embrace, reiterating shrilly--

"I'll hold you tight! I'll hold you tight!"

"For pity's sake, Esmeralda, let go of him this minute!" she cried, rushing to the rescue, and laying soothing hands upon her sister's shoulder. "There's nothing to be frightened at, dear; it's just that wicked Pat, who ought to be destroyed for his pains. It's no ghost, darling. See, now, he's laughing at you. Ghosts don't laugh! He's nothing but a man after all!"

"He's a thief! He was trying to get the things out of the cabinet. I am holding him until father comes, so that he may give him in charge!"

gasped Esmeralda wildly; and Hilliard looked from one sister to the other with eyes dancing with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I'm neither ghost nor thief, as Major O'Shaughnessy will testify when he arrives. I'm really exceedingly sorry to have made such an unfortunate impression, but I came on the most innocent errand. I am staying with Mr Trelawney, and your father was kind enough to offer to lend me a mount for to-morrow. We thought of going for a long ride in the morning, so--"

Esmeralda's hands fell to her sides. The commonplace explanation did more than a hundred protestations, and a remembrance of the Major's rhapsodies over the handsome young Englishman whom he had met but a week before was still fresh in her mind. She stepped back, but the light in her eyes gleamed more threateningly than before, as with tragic att.i.tude she turned towards the staircase. On the lowest step crouched Pixie, all eyes and gaping mouth; on the third Mademoiselle clasped her hands, and wagged her head from side to side, as if calling someone to witness that she at least was innocent of offence; from between the banisters peered a red, questioning face, audacious, yet vaguely alarmed.

"Patrick O'Shaughnessy," said Esmeralda in an awful voice, "you shall pay for this evening's work!" and at that, audacity triumphed, and Pat retorted sharply--

"But not with the racket, me dear, for ye did howl after all. We heard you right up in the schoolroom. You're not the hero you thought yourself, to mistake an innocent gentleman for a midnight a.s.sa.s.sin."

"Pat, be quiet!" interrupted Bridgie sharply, then turned to the stranger with that winsome smile which was her greatest charm. "You've been a schoolboy yourself, and know the ways of them. My brother never rests out of mischief, and he dared my sister Joan to walk the round of the Castle in the dark. She was dressed up as you see, and he had seen you down here in your white coat, and thought maybe you would each be startled by the sight of the other."

"And at first she wouldn't go at all, and was only laughing at him for his pains, but Pat said Christmas Eve and Hallowe'en were all the same, and that if a girl went alone by herself in the moonlight she would see the spirit of her future h---" cried Pixie in one breathless sentence.

In her opinion Bridgie's explanation had been singularly inadequate, and she was filled with indignation at the babel of sounds which drowned her conclusion. Bridgie was seized with a paroxysm of coughing, Mademoiselle with admirable prompt.i.tude knocked an old metal cup from a bracket, and sent it clanging to the floor, and Pat cried shrilly--

"See a spook! She was dressed all in white, and you said yourself it was a good setting for a ghost story! It was yourself that put it in my head!"