Part 10 (2/2)
”Well, all right, if you promise not to get scared. The darkies keep such tales going. They firmly believe in ghosts, and when they tell a ghost story they always say either they themselves have seen the dread shape or they know someone who has seen it. This ghost has not been seen at Maxton in my generation, but Jasper and Milly have heard the tale from their grandparents and they see that it is duly handed down to their grandchildren. The appearance of this spectre is supposed to presage dire calamity.”
”Do you know anyone who has seen it?” I asked, testing the skillet to see if it was hot enough to begin frying the chicken. Chicken for gumbo must be fried before you start the soup, if anything so rich and thick as gumbo could be called soup.
”I knew an old man who thought he had seen it. Well, to go on with my tale:--this young great, great aunt of mine was engaged to be married to a gentleman of high degree, much older than herself. This of course was back in Colonial days. She had consented to the match in obedience to her father's commands, but she evidently did not relish it very much.
The day came for the wedding and she was dressed in her white gown and veil. The company had a.s.sembled from miles around. A boat load of guests from Williamsburg had arrived and the feasting and dancing had begun.
Among them was a young blade from over the seas who had paid court to the fair Elizabeth,--that was her name. It was whispered that she returned his love and that was the real reason for her reluctance to mating with the lord of high degree.
”After being clothed in the wedding gown, Elizabeth had sent the women from her room on a plea that she must be alone to pray. She locked the door the moment they were gone and rushed to the window which was open, it being a warm moonlight night. Standing below the window was the lover. He called up to her to come down to him. The ivy was thick on the wall, as it is now, and for an agile young girl I fancy it was not such a very difficult climb. It must have taken a brave soul though to make the start. Many a time in my youth,” and here Miss Maria blushed as red as one of the tomatoes she was peeling, ”I have sat in that window, it is the room you are occupying, and tried how it would seem to climb down that wall. I have never done more than poke my foot out about an inch, though. Perhaps if the lover had been calling to me, it might have given me courage. Elizabeth got about half-way down when her long satin dress and veil got caught on a nail or snag of some sort, and no matter how she pulled she could not get loose. Just think of it! There the poor girl hung, with her lover frantically calling to her and the precious moments flying. Already they were knocking on the door of her chamber and crying out for admission. His steed was ready to fly with her if only she could get the gown loose. Material in those days was stouter than now. I'll wager anything that a piece of white satin could not be found now that would not tear, or any other material, for that matter.”
Remembering Mary's gown of the night before, I readily agreed with her.
”Before the miserable lover could mount to her side to cut the dress loose, the plot was discovered and the poor girl had the agony of seeing her true love killed by the infuriated bridegroom to be. She swooned and it is said she never regained consciousness. Her poor little heart must have snapped in two. And now it is said that sometimes her white figure can be seen hanging from the ivied wall. Once in my youth the darkies thought they saw it as they were coming home from church on a moonlight night, but on investigation it turned out to be a towel that had blown out of the window and hung, perhaps on the identical nail that was the undoing of poor Elizabeth. I remember well,” and she laughed like a girl again, ”how scared they all of them were. It was in slave days and they were forced to come to work the next day, but nothing but being slaves could have made them come.”
”Oh, Miss Maria, Miss Maria!” I cried, dropping the potato I was peeling, ”I know now what is the matter with your servants. They are not ill but they have seen the ghost!”
And I told her about Mary's ambition and her escapade of the night before. The old lady almost rolled off her chair she laughed so. She was not one bit shocked but vastly interested.
”To think of her doing it! No lover was calling her, either.”
”I don't know about that. How about it, Mary?” I called to my friend who had come down to help pick up chips now that the chamber work was accomplished.
When I told Mary about the family ghost story and that she was no doubt responsible for the non-appearance of the servants, she was overcome with confusion. Miss Maria begged her to treat the matter as a joke.
”Why, my dear, I never would have known all you dear girls as I now do if it had not happened. You would have come and gone as nothing but Harvie's guests, and now you are my own true friends. I am glad the reason why is unearthed, though, because now we can at least make those good-for-nothings come and wash the dinner dishes.” She drew Mary down beside her on the bench.
”But, Mary, you didn't answer me,” I teased. ”I asked you if a lover was calling you when you climbed down the wall.”
”Yes! He is calling me all the time!” cried Mary, striking an att.i.tude of one being called by a lover. ”His name is Douglas Fairbanks.”
”Douglas Fairbanks? I don't know the family,” said dear old puzzled Miss Maria. ”Who is Douglas Fairbanks?”
”Why, Miss Maria, he is a movie actor, the very best ever!” explained Mary.
”Where did you get to know him, child? Who introduced you?”
”I don't know him, never saw him except on the screen!”
”Ah, I see, a hero of romantic fiction!”
”But he's not fiction--he's the realest flesh and blood person you ever saw in your life.”
Then Mary tried to tell our hostess of the wonders of the movie where Douglas was the star. The old lady endeavored to take it all in, but not having been to the city since the perfecting of the cineomatograph, it was up-hill work. Of course she knew that movies existed, but she could not grasp the joy of them, as she had nothing to go upon but the memory of a magic lantern.
”Don't you like the theatre?” I asked.
”Yes, indeed, I like it very much. To be sure I have never seen but two performances, but I got great enjoyment from them. You must remember, my dears, that I am country bred and have had little chance to see the city sights.”
I never realized before how cut off from the world persons are who depend on steamboats. Here was this dear lady, born and bred one of the finest ladies of the land, but being of a naturally retiring disposition and always having been occupied from her girlhood with keeping house she had let the world pa.s.s her by.
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