Part 9 (2/2)
”_Ghost_, indeed!” And withering scorn was expressed in the very tone of her e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n. ”When you're my _h_age you'll have learned to take no 'eed of such nonsense! There's no such a thing; and I'm surprised as a Catholic girl, born and bred, should be that superst.i.tious! You mustn't believe such rubbis.h.!.+”
I scented entertainment, for Penny dogmatizing on spiritualism was likely to prove interesting.
”What's up, Penny?” I inquired with an air of innocence, as she suddenly emerged from the kitchen, wrathfully brandis.h.i.+ng a huge knife--as who should say, in Hamlet's words:
”I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!”
had she not been bent upon the more peaceful, if prosaic, slaughter of a lettuce for the luncheon salad.
Penny was just in the mood to give vent to her theological opinions concerning the possibility of visits from another world, and at once seized the opportunity of imparting a little wholesome instruction to any audience obtainable.
”The nonsense that folks get into their 'eads nowadays, Mr. Edmund--what with these trashy novels and 'apenny papers--is something past belief!
Not but what Elsie is a good, quiet girl enough, and reg'lar at her duties every first Sunday in the month; but she's young, and I suppose we 'ave to make allowance for young folk.”
I murmured in token of acquiescence.
”I let her off for the afternoon yesterday, to take tea with her _h_aunt from America, and back she comes with a c.o.c.k-and-bull story of a _h_apparition her youngest brother Aleck imagined he saw the night before last.”
”An apparition!” I cried. ”That's strange! Where did the boy see it?”
”He couldn't have seen it, Mr. Edmund, as you must know very well, with your _h_education and experience. He was running home in the moonlight and thought he saw some figure in the old mill, which, of course, he says must have been a ghost.”
”A ghost at the old mill!” I laughed heartily myself at the notion. ”It couldn't have been poor old Archie. It's not like him to terrify his neighbors in that way.”
”I gave the girl a good talking to,” continued Penny. (I did not doubt it!) ”'Read your Penny Catechism,' I said, 'and see how strong it is against dealing with the Devil by consulting spiritualists, and don't let me hear another word about it.'”
It seemed rather hard on poor Elsie, who was, beyond doubt, innocent of any such forbidden practices. But I refrained from comment, for I wanted to hear more about the _h_apparition.
But Penny could not be drawn out. She professed herself so disgusted at Elsie's ”superst.i.tion” that I could get no coherent account of what Aleck was supposed to have seen. So I left her to vent her wrath on the defenceless vegetables, and determined to seek a more copious source of information.
w.i.l.l.y and Bell would be capable of second-hand descriptions only, so I resolved to approach the fountain-head and interrogate Aleck in person.
I found the youth in the garden of Fanellan farm, evidently just pa.s.sing the time by a cursory pruning of berry bushes. He had on his Sunday suit, and was unusually smartened up for a weekday; for it was but natural that neighbors might be expected to drop in for information as to the supernatural manifestations he had experienced, and it was well to be prepared. He was a fresh-looking, fair-haired lad of eighteen or thereabouts. I had often noticed him on Sundays among the gathering under the pine-trees near the church door, but had never spoken to him.
Aleck had not expected so ill.u.s.trious a visitor as ”the priest's brother,” and, though evidently gratified by my interest, was so painfully shy that it would have needed an expert barrister to draw out any satisfactory information from so bashful a witness. Luckily his mother had espied me from the window, and promptly appeared on the scene, and by means of her judicious prompting the youth was induced to tell his tale.
It appeared that Aleck was out on the night in question at the unusual hour of twelve. He had been ”bidden,” as his mother explained, to a marriage in the neighborhood, and his father had allowed him to accept the invitation on the condition of his return home by midnight. As is not unusual in such cases, the attractions of the dance had led the youth to postpone his departure, minute by minute, until it was questionable whether he could possibly reach home by the appointed time, even if he ran his best. Consequently he took all the short cuts he knew, and one of them led him by the old mill.
I was well aware, from an anecdote related to me by Penny, that John Farquhar, the lad's father, was a stern disciplinarian. Elsie's elder sister, Jean, a la.s.s of nineteen, had once happened to return home from confession rather later than usual one Sat.u.r.day evening, owing to the exceptionally large number awaiting their turn in the church. On reaching home about half-past eight on a spring evening, she became aware of her father standing in the dusk at the garden gate, holding an ominously slender walking-stick in his hand. With this he proceeded to deal several far from gentle strokes upon the girl's shoulders, regardless of her frightened remonstrances and explanations.
”I dinna' care wha ye come frae, chaipel or nae chaipel; ye'll nae be alloowed oot at sic an hoor!”
In the light of this circ.u.mstance it was not difficult to understand Aleck's desire to reach Fanellan punctually. But to return to his adventure.
As he approached the old mill he became aware of a light s.h.i.+ning from one of the windows. Thinking that some traveling tinkers had taken up free lodgings there, he was preparing to pa.s.s as quickly and quietly as possible, to avoid drawing attention upon himself and delaying his progress. But, to his astonishment, the light suddenly went out, and by the time he reached the house it was wrapped in darkness. There was little moonlight (spite of Penny's indignant insinuations), for it was a cloudy night, and the lad would have had difficulty in finding his way had it not been so familiar. Curiosity urged Aleck to investigate the mystery of the light, and, forgetful for the moment of his father's injunction, he crept quietly to the unglazed window and looked through the opening. Not a sound revealed the presence of any human being within. A silence, accentuated no doubt by his startled imagination, seemed to hang over the place. He was starting on again when a strange sight met his eyes. Suddenly out of the darkness of the cottage shone out the figure of a human hand! It seemed to glow with a faint greenish light, and it held a long pointed knife, which burned with the same pale hue. Nothing else could be seen except a kind of gauzy floating sleeve, from which the mysterious hand emerged. Aleck had no wish to investigate further, but promptly took to his heels, and made for home with all speed, frightened out of his wits.
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