the apartment, I shrank with a feeling somewhat akin to horror from touching it; in fact, I should have been glad to know that it was in Mrs. Bennet’s chamber rather than mine. But yet it exercised a fascination over me, and, raking the fire together and throwing on more wood, I lay back in my chair, and, with my head half turned towards it, dreamed, and dreamed its history over again, until the hours passed by unheeded, and I still lay back in the cosy fauteuil, and watched the faded case. I say watched—but what was I watching? Of course I was watching nothing but the case, which I could not always see the whole of. Was it partially covered by something? I tried to raise my hand to my eyes, but it felt heavy, and I could not lift it from the elbow of my chair. Surely the candles were burning blue and pale; but not so pale but that now I could see the other side of the case. The room grew cold and chilly, as if a gust of air came in. Did the curtains move with the draught?
Bluer and dimmer burned the candles, fainter and fainter gleamed the fire: but still my eyes were riveted to the faded morocco case. What was it that moved slowly from side to side, as if seeking awkwardly for the clasp? It was a hand! and shrieks for help rose to my lips, but fell soundless, and I was paralysed to my chair, and watching—still watching—that thin, shadowy, little hand. Small and exquisite were the taper fingers which were pressing on the clasp; and with the fascination of horror, I wondered where was the other hand; and, redoubling the earnestness of my gaze, I traced from the little hand on the case, slowly up the wrist, arm, shoulder, until “Oh, help! help! she’s come!” I yelled. But no sound escaped my dry lips, as I recognised the Lady Janet Johnstoun.
There was the small broad head, with its raven tresses hanging down to her feet; but they were dishevelled and dripping with water. I could see and hear it trickling and dropping on to the floor. I saw the pure oval face, the eyes cast down, so that the jetty fringes rested on the cheek, as still that one hand moved on the clasp. The dim light around me became dimmer and dimmer, and my hands and feet were heavier and heavier—they were like stone. I could not fly from the presence of the thing—I could not stir or breathe—and I dare not divide my attention with it so much as to raise a prayer for aid and strength, knowing that if the eyes once met mine I was undone. I glared on it.
As the light around me became fainter and the atmosphere colder, so it became brighter and bluer around the thing, until the space behind was not the walls of my chamber but mist. I could not tell what, but—oh! sickening horror!—I now saw that the other hand was pressed over a wound in the side, from which the blood was oozing through the fingers on to the white drapery, which fell wet and shadowy like the hair. Whether this for one moment diverted my attention I cannot say, but I heard the faint click of the case opening, I saw the little hand take up the larger clasp, and, resting it on the velvet of the case, slowly withdraw the miniature and the lock of golden hair. The case was closed again, and I knew that the fringed lids were rising, and the eyes, strange and dilated, hunted, met mine. I felt that the thing was advancing towards me, the light around it becoming dimmer; but the eyes were on me. I could not cry or scream, but sat with hands grasping the elbows of my chair, knowing that the spirit had attained its ascendency over me, and awaiting my doom. Nearer it came, and nearer, colder and colder was the air, I saw the drapery of the chamber lifted as by a blast of wind which pierced through me, and as I crouched before the advancing thing it raised its bloody hand off its breast, as if to take hold of mine—but I knew no more.
*****
So long as the world lasts, there will be a “to-morrow morning.” Late on this particular “to-morrow morning,” I was roused from what appeared to me a deep sleep by the ejaculations of Lora and Mrs. Bennet, and was surprised to see the medical man of the district bending gravely over me; moreover, it is somewhat startling to feel a dabbling of sal-volatile, &c., on your temples, when you are not aware of any necessity for the attention! And when I inquired the meaning of all this from Mrs. Bennet, my voice sounded as if it came faintly from the other end of the room, and I was promptly informed that I was not to be allowed to exercise it.
To make a long story short, I had been discovered by Mrs. Bennet some four hours before, that is to say about nine o’clock in the morning, stiff and senseless on the floor of my room; how long I had been so, of course she was unable to tell, but not finding that I “cam to” so quickly as she expected, she sent for Doctor Blount, thanks to whose care I escaped the brain fever hanging over me. So soon as he had taken his departure from the room, enjoining the strictest quiet, I begged Lora and Mrs. Bennet to sit down by my bedside, when I solemnly related to them all that had passed, commencing with my discovery of the contents of the clasp, and ending with the visitation of the previous night, but interrupted by the tears and sobs of Mrs. Bennet.
When I had slowly and with some difficulty finished my recital, I said: “This may all have been but a distempered dream, brought on by fatigue and over-excitement, but I feel very weak in mind as well as body, and if you will reach me the case, it will be a satisfaction to me to find the miniature and the lock of hair untouched; besides which you have neither of you seen them, and I confess I cannot believe it a dream, until I have the proof, by their being still in their former place.”
Mrs. Bennet said persuasively:
“Never mind it noo, my bairn, it wer all a dream, tak’ your auld nurse’s word for it.”
“No,” I said, “Mary, I cannot believe it a dream, until I have the proof that Lady Janet had not got them in her hand, so let me have it,” I persisted.
Mrs. Bennet looked sadly at me without moving, but Lora rose, and went to the table, returning with the case in her hand, saying as she did so, “it appears to have been wet!”
Her words thrilled me with horror, and shuddering, I took hold of it, opened it, lifted up the