Part 35 (1/2)
The party separated early. Diana was still sleeping, and leaving her own maid to watch in the dressing-room between their chambers, Mrs. Berkeley went to bed. As he pa.s.sed down the gallery to his apartment, Earl heard Mrs. Vane say to the maid, ”If anything happens in the night, call me.” The words made him anxious, and instead of going to bed, he sat up writing letters till very late. It was past midnight, when the sound of a closing door broke the long silence that had filled the house. Stepping into the gallery, he listened. All was still, and nothing stirred but the heavy curtain before the long window at the end of the upper hall; this swayed to and fro in the strong current of air that swept in. Fearing that the draught might slam other doors and disturb Diana, he went to close it.
Pausing a moment to view the gloomy scene without, Douglas was startled by an arm flung violently about his neck, lips pressed pa.s.sionately to his own, and a momentary glimpse of a woman's figure dimly defined on the dark curtain that floated backward from his hand. Silently and suddenly as it came, the phantom went, leaving Douglas so amazed, that for an instant he could only stare dumbly before him, half breathless, and wholly bewildered by the ardor of that mysterious embrace. Then he sprang forward to discover who the woman was and whither she had gone. But, as if blown outward by some counter-draught, the heavy curtain wrapped him in its fold, and when he had freed himself, neither ghost nor woman was visible.
Earl was superst.i.tious, and for a moment he fancied the spirit of Diana had appeared to him, foretelling her death. But a second thought a.s.sured him that it was a human creature, and no wraith, for the soft arms had no deathly chill in them, the lips were warm, living breath had pa.s.sed across his face, and on his cheek he felt a tear that must have fallen from human eyes. The light had been too dim to reveal the partially shrouded countenance, or more than a tall and shadowy outline, but with a thrill of fear he thought, ”It was Diana, and she is mad!”
Taking his candle, he hurried to the door of the dressing-room, tapped softly, and when the sleepy maid appeared, inquired if Miss Stuart still slept.
”Yes, sir, like a child; it does one's heart good to see her.”
”You are quite sure she is asleep?”
”Bless me, yes, sir; I've just looked at her, and she hasn't stirred since I looked an hour ago.”
”Does she ever walk in her sleep, Mrs. Mason?”
”Dear, no, sir.”
”I thought I saw her just now in the upper gallery. I went to shut the great window, lest the wind should disturb her, and some one very like her certainly stood for a moment at my side.”
”Lord, sir! you make my blood run cold. It couldn't have been her, for she never left her bed, much less her room.”
”Perhaps so; never mind; just look again, and tell me if you see her, then I shall be at ease.”
Mrs. Mason knew that her young lady loved the gentleman before her, and never doubted that he loved her, and so considering his anxiety quite natural and proper, she nodded, crept away, and soon returned, saying, with an air of satisfaction: ”She's all right, sir, sleeping beautifully. I didn't speak, for once when I looked at her she said, quite fierce: ”Go away, and let me be until I call you.' So I've only peeped through the curtain since. I see her lying with her face to the wall, and the coverlet drawn comfortably round her.”
”Thank G.o.d! she is safe. Excuse my disturbing you, Mrs. Mason, but I was very anxious. Be patient and faithful in your care of her; I shall remember it. Good-night.”
”Handsome creeter! how fond he is of her, and well he may be, for she dotes on him, and they'll make a splendid couple. Now I'll finish my nap, and then I'll have a cup of tea.”
With a knowing look and a chilly s.h.i.+ver, Mrs. Mason resettled herself in a luxurious chair and was soon dozing tranquilly.
Douglas meanwhile returned to his room, after a survey of the house, and went to bed thinking with a smile and a frown, that if all spirits came in such an amicable fas.h.i.+on, the fate of a ghost-seer was not a hard one.
In the dark hour just before the dawn, a long, shrill cry rent the silence, and brought every sleeper under that roof out of his bed, trembling and with fright. The cry came from Diana's room, and in a moment the gallery, dressing-room and chamber were filled with pale faces and half-dressed figures, as ladies and gentlemen, men and maids, came flocking in, all asking, breathlessly: ”What is it? O, what is it?”
Mrs. Berkeley lay on the floor in strong hysterics, and Mrs. Mason, instead of attending to her, was beating her hands distractedly together, and running wildly about the room, as if searching for something she had lost. Diana's bed was empty, with the clothes flung one way and the pillows another, and every sign of strange disorder, but its occupant was nowhere to be seen.
”Where is she?” ”What has happened?” ”Why don't you speak?” cried the terrified beholders.
A sudden lull fell upon the excited group, as Mrs. Vane, white, resolute and calm, made her way through the crowd, and laying her hand on Mrs. Mason's shoulder, commanded her to stand still and explain the mystery. The poor soul endeavored to obey, but burst into tears, and dropping on her knees, poured out her story in a pa.s.sion of penitent despair.
”You left her sleeping, ma'am, and I sat as my lady bid me, going now and then to look at miss. The last time I drew the curtains, she looked up and said, sharp and short, ”Let me be in peace, and don't disturb me till I call you.' After that, I just peeped through the crack, and she seemed quiet. You know I told you so, sir, when you came to ask, and O, my goodness me, it wasn't her at all, sir, and she's gone! she's gone!”
”Hus.h.!.+ stop sobbing, and tell me how you missed her. Gabrielle and Justine, attend to Mrs. Berkeley; Harry, go at once and search the house. Now, Mrs. Mason.”
Mrs. Vane's clear, calm voice seemed to act like a spell on the agitation of all about her, and the maids obeyed, Harry, with the men-servants hurried away, and Mrs. Mason more coherently, went on: ”Well, ma'am, when Mr. Douglas came to the door asking if miss was here, thinking he saw her in the hall, I looked again, and thought she lay as I'd left her an hour before. But O ma'am, it wasn't her, it was the piller that she'd fixed like herself, with the coverlet pulled round it, like she'd pulled it round her own head and shoulders when she spoke last. It looked all right, the night-lamp being low, and me so sleepy, and I went back to my place, after setting Mr. Douglas's mind at rest. I fell asleep, and when I woke, I ran in here to make sure she was safe, for I'd had a horrid dream about seeing her laid out, dead and dripping, with weeds in her hair, and her poor feet all covered with red clay, as if she'd fallen into one of them pits over yonder. I ran in here, pulled up the curtain, and was just going to say, ”Thank the Lord,' when, as I stooped down to listen if she slept easy, I saw she wasn't there. The start took my wits away, and I don't know what I did, till my lady came running in, as I was tossing the pillows here and there to find her, and when I told what had happened, my lady gave one dreadful scream, and went off in a fit.”
There was a dead silence for a moment, as Mrs. Mason relapsed into convulsive sobbing, and every one looked into each other's frightened faces. Douglas leaned on Lennox, as if all the strength had gone out of him, and George stood aghast.
Mrs. Vane alone seemed self-possessed, though an awful anxiety blanched her face, and looked out at her haggard eyes.
”What did you see in the hall?” she asked of Douglas. Briefly he told the incident, and Lady Lennox clasped her hands in despair, exclaiming: ”She has destroyed herself, and that was her farewell.”
”Your ladys.h.i.+p is mistaken, I hope, for among the wild things she said this afternoon, was a longing to go home at once, as every hour here was torture to her. She may have attempted this in her delirium. Look in her wardrobe, Mrs. Mason, and see what clothes are gone. That will help us in our search. Be calm, I beg of you, my lady; I am sure we shall find the poor girl soon.”
”It's no use looking, ma'am; she's gone in the clothes she had on, for she wouldn't let me take 'em off her. It was a black silk with c.r.a.pe tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and her black mantle's gone, and the close c.r.a.pe bonnet. Here's her gloves just where they dropped when we laid her down in her faint.”
”Is her purse gone?” asked Mrs. Vane.
”It's always in her pocket, ma'am, when she drives out, she likes to toss a bit of money to the little lads that open gates, or hold the ponies while she gets flowers, and such like. She was so generous, so kind, poor dear!”
Here Harry came in, saying that no trace of the lost girl was visible in the house. But as he spoke, Jitomar's dark face and glittering eyes looked over his shoulder with an intelligent motion, which his mistress understood, and put into words.
”He says that one of the long windows in the little breakfast-room is unfastened and ajar. Go, gentlemen, at once, and take him with you, he is as keen as a hound, and will do good service. It is just possible that she may have remembered the one o'clock mail train, and taken it. Inquire, and if you find any trace of her, let us know without delay.”
In an instant they were gone, and the anxious watchers left behind, traced their progress by the glimmer of the lantern, which Jitomar carried low, that he might follow the print her flying feet had left here and there in the damp earth.
A long hour pa.s.sed, then Harry and the Indian returned, bringing the good news that a tall lady in black had been seen at the station alone, had not been recognized, being veiled, and had taken the mail train to London. Douglas and Lennox had at once ordered horses, and gone with all speed to catch an early train that left a neighboring town in an hour or two. They would trace and discover the lost girl, if she was in London.
”There can be no doubt that it was she, no lady would be travelling alone at such an hour, and the station people say that she seemed in great haste. Now let us compose ourselves, hope for the best, and comfort her poor aunt.”
As Mrs. Vane spoke, Harry frankly looked his admiration of the cheerful, courageous little woman, and his mother took her arm, saying, affectionately: ”My dear, what should we do without you, for you have the nerves of a man, the quick wit of a woman, and presence of mind enough for us all.”
The dreary day dawned, and slowly wore away. A dull rain fell, and a melancholy wind sighed among the yellowing leaves. All occupations flagged, all failed, except the one absorbing hope. The servants loitered, unreproved, and gossiped freely among themselves about the sad event. The ladies sat in Mrs. Berkeley's room, consoling her distress, while Harry haunted the station, waiting for an arrival or a telegram. At noon, the latter came.
”The lady in black not Diana. On another scent now. If that fails, home at night.”
No one knew how much they leaned upon this hope, until it failed and all was uncertainty again. Harry searched house, garden, park and river-side, but found no trace of the lost girl beyond the point where her footsteps ended on the hard gravel of the road. So the long afternoon wore on, and at dusk the gentlemen returned, haggard, wet and weary, bringing no tidings of good cheer. The lady in black proved to be a handsome young governess, called suddenly to town by her father's dangerous illness. The second search was equally fruitless, and nowhere had Diana been seen.
Their despondent story was scarcely ended, when the bell rang. Every servant in the house sprang to answer it, and every occupant of the drawing-room listened breathlessly. A short parley followed the ring; then an astonished footman showed in a little farmer lad, with a bundle under his arm.
”He wants to see my lady, and would come in,” said the man, lingering, as all eyes were fixed on the new-comer.
The boy looked important, excited and frightened, but when Lady Lennox bade him to do his errand without fear, he spoke up briskly, though his voice shook a little, and he now and then gave a nervous clutch at the bundle under his arm.
”Please, my lady, mother told me to come up as soon as ever I got home, so I ran off right away, knowing you'd be glad to hear something, even if it warn't good.”
”Something about Miss Stuart, you mean?”
”Yes, my lady, I know where she is.”
”Where? speak quickly, you shall be well paid for your tidings.”