The Betrothed

Chapter 14

Sometimes, methinks, I hear the groans of ghosts,

Then hollow sounds and lamentable screams;

Then, like a dying echo from afar,

My mother's voice, that cries, "Wed not, Almeyda--

Forewanvd, Almeyda, marriage is thy crime."

DON SEBASTIAN.

The evening at Baldringham would have seemed of portentous and

unendurable length, had it not been that apprehended danger makes

times pass quickly betwixt us and the dreaded hour, and that if

Eveline felt little interested or amused by the conversation of

her aunt and Berwine, which turned upon the long deduction of

their ancestors from the warlike Horsa, and the feats of Saxon

champions, and the miracles of Saxon monks, she was still better

pleased to listen to these legends, than to anticipate her retreat

to the destined and dreaded apartment where she was to pass the

night. There lacked not, however, such amusement as the house of

Baldringham could afford, to pass away the evening. Blessed by a

grave old Saxon monk, the chaplain of the house, a sumptuous

entertainment, which might have sufficed twenty hungry men, was

served up before Ermengarde and her niece, whose sole assistants,

beside the reverend man, were Berwine and Rose Flammock. Eveline

was the less inclined to do justice to this excess of hospitality,

that the dishes were all of the gross and substantial nature which

the Saxons admired, but which contrasted disadvantageously with

the refined and delicate cookery of the Normans, as did the

moderate cup of light and high-flavoured Gascon wine, tempered

with more than half its quantity of the purest water, with the

mighty ale, the high-spiced pigment and hippocras, and the other

potent liquors, which, one after another, were in vain proffered

for her acceptance by the steward Hundwolf, in honour of the

hospitality of Baldringham.

Neither were the stated amusements of evening more congenial to

Eveline's taste, than the profusion of her aunt's solid refection.

When the boards and tresses, on which the viands had been served,

were withdrawn from the apartment, the menials, under direction of

the steward, proceeded to light several long waxen torches, one of

which was graduated for the purpose of marking the passing time,

and dividing it into portions. These were announced by means of

brazen balls, suspended by threads from the torch, the spaces

betwixt them being calculated to occupy a certain time in burning;

so that, when the flame reached the thread, and the balls fell,

each in succession, into a brazen basin placed for its reception,

the office of a modern clock was in some degree discharged. By

this light the party was arranged for the evening.

The ancient Ermengarde's lofty and ample chair was removed,

according to ancient custom, from the middle of the apartment to

the warmest side of a large grate, filled with charcoal, and her

guest was placed on her right, as the seat of honour. Berwine then

arranged in due order the females of the household, and, having

seen that each was engaged with her own proper task, sat herself

down to ply the spindle and distaff. The men, in a more remote

circle, betook themselves to the repairing of their implements of

husbandry, or new furbishing weapons of the chase, under the

direction of the steward Hundwolf. For the amusement of the family

thus assembled, an old glee-man sung to a harp, which had but four

strings, a long and apparently interminable legend, upon some

religious subject, which was rendered almost unintelligible to

Eveline, by the extreme and complicated affectation of the poet,

who, in order to indulge in the alliteration which was accounted

one great ornament of Saxon poetry, had sacrificed sense to sound,

and used words in the most forced and remote sense, provided they

could be compelled into his service. There was also all the

obscurity arising from elision, and from the most extravagant and

hyperbolical epithets.

Eveline, though well acquainted with the Saxon language, soon left

off listening to the singer, to reflect for a moment on the gay

fabliaux and imaginative _lais_ of the Norman minstrels, and

then to anticipate, with anxious apprehension, what nature of

visitation she might be exposed to in the mysterious chamber in

which she was doomed to pass the night.

The hour of parting at length approached. At half an hour before

mid-night, a period ascertained by the consumption of the huge

waxen torch, the ball which was secured to it fell clanging into

the brazen basin placed beneath, and announced to all the hour of

rest. The old glee-man paused in his song, instantaneously, and in

the middle of a stanza, and the household were all on foot at the

signal, some retiring to their own apartments, others lighting

torches or bearing lamps to conduct the visitors to their places

of repose. Among these last was a bevy of bower-women, to whom the

duty was assigned of conveying the Lady Eveline to her chamber for

the night. Her aunt took a solemn leave of her, crossed her

forehead, kissed it, and whispered in her ear, "Be courageous, and

be fortunate."

"May not my bower-maiden, Rose Flammock, or my tire-woman, Dame

Gillian, Raoul's wife, remain in the apartment with me for this

night?" said Eveline.

"Flammock-Raoul!" repeated Ermengarde, angrily; "is thy household

thus made up? The Flemings are the cold palsy to Britain, the

Normans the burning fever."

"And the poor Welsh will add," said Rose, whose resentment began

to surpass her awe for the ancient Saxon dame, "that the Anglo-

Saxons were the original disease, and resemble a wasting

pestilence."

"Thou art too bold, sweetheart," said the Lady Ermengarde, looking

at the Flemish maiden from under her dark brows; "and yet there is

wit in thy words. Saxon, Dane, and Norman, have rolled like

successive billows over the land, each having strength to subdue

what they lacked wisdom to keep. When shall it be otherwise?"

"When, Saxon, and Briton, and Norman, and Fleming," answered Rose,

boldly, "shall learn to call themselves by one name, and think

themselves alike children of the land they were born in."

"Ha!" exclaimed the Lady of Baldringham, in the tone of one half

surprised, half-pleased. Then turning to her relation, she said,

"There are words and wit in this maiden; see that she use but do

not abuse them."

"She is as kind and faithful, as she is prompt and ready-witted."

said Eveline. "I pray you, dearest aunt, let me use her company

for this night."

"It may not be--it were dangerous to both. Alone you must learn

your destiny, as have all the females of our race, excepting your

grandmother, and what have been the consequences of her neglecting

the rules of our house? Lo! her descendant stands before me an

orphan in the very bloom of youth."

"I will go, then," said Eveline with a sigh of resignation; "and

it shall never be said I incurred future wo, to shun present

terror."

"Your attendants," said the Lady Ermengarde, "may occupy the

anteroom, and be almost within your call. Berwine will show you

the apartment--I cannot; for we, thou knowest, who have once

entered it, return not thither again. Farewell, my child, and may

heaven bless thee!"

With more of human emotion and sympathy than she had yet shown,

the Lady again saluted Eveline, and signed to her to follow

Berwine, who, attended by two damsels bearing torches, waited to

conduct her to the dreaded apartment.

Their torches glared along the rudely built walls and dark arched

roofs of one or two long winding passages; these by their light

enabled them to descend the steps of a winding stair, whose

inequality and ruggedness showed its antiquity; and finally led

into a tolerably large chamber on the lower story of the edifice,

to which some old hangings, a lively fire on the hearth, the

moonbeams stealing through a latticed window, and the boughs of a

myrtle plant which grew around the casement, gave no uncomfortable

appearance. "This," said Berwine, "is the resting-place of your

attendants," and she pointed to the couches which had been

prepared for Rose and Dame Gillian; "we," she added, "proceed

farther."

She then took a torch from the attendant maidens, both of whom

seemed to shrink back with fear, which was readily caught by Dame

Gillian, although she was not probably aware of the cause. But

Rose Flammock, unbidden, followed her mistress without hesitation,

as Berwine conducted her through a small wicket at the upper end

of the apartment, clenched with many an iron nail, into a second

but smaller anteroom or wardrobe, at the end of which was a

similar door. This wardrobe had also its casement mantled with

evergreens, and, like the former, it was faintly enlightened by

the moonbeams.

Berwine paused here, and, pointing to Rose, demanded of Eveline,

"Why does she follow?"

"To share my mistress's danger, be it what it may," answered Rose,

with her characteristic readiness of speech and resolution.

"Speak," she said, "my dearest lady," grasping Eveline's hand,

while she addressed her; "you will not drive your Rose from you?

If I am less high-minded than one of your boasted race, I am bold

and quick-witted in all honest service.--You tremble like the

aspen! Do not go into this apartment--do not be gulled by all this

pomp and mystery of terrible preparation; bid defiance to this

antiquated, and, I think, half-pagan superstition."

"The Lady Eveline must go, minion," replied Berwine, sternly; "and

she must go without any malapert adviser or companion."

"Must go---_must go_!" repeated Rose. "Is this language to a

free and noble maiden?--Sweet lady, give me once but the least

hint that you wish it, and their '_must go_' shall be put to

the trial. I will call from the casement on the Norman cavaliers,

and tell them we have fallen, into a den of witches, instead of a

house of hospitality."

"Silence, madwoman," said Berwine, her voice quivering with anger

and fear; "you know not who dwells in the next chamber."

"I will call those who will soon see to that," said Rose, flying

to the casement, when Eveline, seizing her arm in her turn,

compelled her to stop.

"I thank thy kindness, Rose," she said, "but it cannot help me in

this matter. She who enters yonder door, must do so alone."

"Then I will enter it in your stead, my dearest lady," said Rose.

"You are pale--you are cold--you will die with terror if you go

on. There may be as much of trick as of supernatural agency in

this matter--me they shall not deceive--or if some stern spirit

craves a victim,--better Rose than her lady."

"Forbear, forbear," said Eveline, rousing up her own spirits; "you

make me ashamed of myself. This is an ancient ordeal, which

regards the females descended from the house of Baldringham as far

as in the third degree, and them only. I did not indeed expect, in

my present circumstances, to have been called upon to undergo it;

but, since the hour summons me, I will meet it as freely as any of

my ancestors."

So saying, she took the torch from the hand of Berwine, and

wishing good-night to her and Rose, gently disengaged herself from

the hold of the latter, and advanced into the mysterious chamber.

Rose pressed after her so far as to see that it was an apartment

of moderate dimensions, resembling that through which they had

last passed, and lighted by the moonbeams, which came through a

window lying on the same range with those of the anterooms. More

she could not see, for Eveline turned on the threshold, and

kissing her at the same time, thrust her gently back into the

smaller apartment which she had just left, shut the door of

communication, and barred and bolted it, as if in security against

her well-meant intrusion.

Berwine now exhorted Rose, as she valued her life, to retire into

the first anteroom, where the beds were prepared, and betake

herself, if not to rest, at least to silence and devotion; but the

faithful Flemish girl stoutly refused her entreaties, and resisted

her commands.

"Talk not to me of danger," she said; "here I remain, that I may

be at least within hearing of my mistress's danger, and wo betide

those who shall offer her injury!--Take notice, that twenty Norman

spears surround this inhospitable dwelling, prompt to avenge

whatsoever injury shall be offered to the daughter of Raymond

Berenger."

"Reserve your threats for those who are mortal," said Berwine, in

a low, but piercing whisper; "the owner of yonder chamber fears

them not. Farewell--thy danger be on thine own head!"

She departed, leaving Rose strangely agitated by what had passed,

and somewhat appalled at her last words. "These Saxons," said the

maiden, within herself, "are but half converted after all, and

hold many of their old hellish rites in the worship of elementary

spirits. Their very saints are unlike to the saints of any

Christian country, and have, as it were, a look of something

savage and fiendish--their very names sound pagan and diabolical.

It is fearful being alone here--and all is silent as death in the

apartment into which my lady has been thus strangely compelled.

Shall I call up Gillian?--but no--she has neither sense, nor

courage, nor principle, to aid me on such an occasion--better

alone than have a false friend for company. I will see if the

Normans are on their post, since it is to them I must trust, if a

moment of need should arrive."

Thus reflecting, Rose Flammock went to the window of the little

apartment, in order to satisfy herself of the vigilance of the

sentinels, and to ascertain the exact situation of the corps de

garde. The moon was at the full, and enabled her to see with

accuracy the nature of the ground without. In the first place, she

was rather disappointed to find, that instead of being so near the

earth as she supposed, the range of windows which gave light as

well to the two anterooms as to the mysterious chamber itself,

looked down upon an ancient moat, by which they were divided from

the level ground on the farther side. The defence which this fosse

afforded seemed to have been long neglected, and the bottom,

entirely dry, was choked in many places with bushes and low trees,

which rose up against the wall of the castle, and by means of

which it seemed to Rose the windows might be easily scaled, and

the mansion entered. From the level plain beyond, the space

adjoining to the castle was in a considerable degree clear, and

the moonbeams slumbered on its close and beautiful turf, mixed

with long shadows of the towers and trees. Beyond this esplanade

lay the forest ground, with a few gigantic oaks scattered

individually along the skirt of its dark and ample domain, like

champions, who take their ground of defiance in front of a line of

arrayed battle.

The calm beauty and repose of a scene so lovely, the stillness of

all around, and the more matured reflections which the whole

suggested, quieted, in some measure, the apprehensions which the

events of the evening had inspired. "After all," she reflected,

"why should I be so anxious on account of the Lady Eveline? There

is among the proud Normans and the dogged Saxons scarce a single

family of note, but must needs be held distinguished from others

by some superstitious observance peculiar to their race, as if

they thought it scorn to go to Heaven like a poor simple Fleming,

such as I am.--Could I but see the Norman sentinel, I would hold

myself satisfied with my mistress's security.--And yonder one

stalks along the gloom, wrapt in his long white mantle, and the

moon tipping the point of his lance with silver.--What ho, Sir

Cavalier!"

The Norman turned his steps, and approached the ditch as she

spoke. "What is your pleasure, damsel?" he demanded.

"The window next to mine is that of the Lady Eveline Berenger,

whom you are appointed to guard. Please to give heedful watch upon

this side of the castle."

"Doubt it not, lady," answered the cavalier; and enveloping

himself in his long _chappe_, or military watch-cloak, he

withdrew to a large oak tree at some distance, and stood there

with folded arms, and leaning on his lance, more like a trophy of

armour than a living warrior.

Imboldened by the consciousness, that in case of need succour was

close at hand, Rose drew back into her little chamber, and having

ascertained, by listening, that there was no noise or stirring in

that of Eveline, she began to make some preparations for her own

repose. For this purpose she went into the outward ante-room,

where Dame Gillian, whose fears had given way to the soporiferous

effects of a copious draught of _lithe-alos_, (mild ale, of

the first strength and quality,) slept as sound a sleep as that

generous Saxon beverage could procure.

Muttering an indignant censure on her sloth and indifference, Rose

caught, from the empty couch which had been destined for her own

use, the upper covering, and dragging it with her into the inner

ante-room, disposed it so as, with the assistance of the rushes

which strewed that apartment, to form a sort of couch, upon which,

half seated, half reclined, she resolved to pass the night in as

close attendance upon her mistress as circumstances permitted.

Thus seated, her eye on the pale planet which sailed in full glory

through the blue sky of midnight, she proposed to herself that

sleep should not visit her eyelids till the dawn of morning should

assure her of Eveline's safety.

Her thoughts, meanwhile, rested on the boundless and shadowy world

beyond the grave, and on the great and perhaps yet undecided

question, whether the separation of its inhabitants from those of

this temporal sphere is absolute and decided, or whether,

influenced by motives which we cannot appreciate, they continue to

hold shadowy communication with those yet existing in earthly

reality of flesh and blood? To have denied this, would, in the age

of crusades and of miracles, have incurred the guilt of heresy;

but Rose's firm good sense led her to doubt at least the frequency

of supernatural interference, and she comforted herself with an

opinion, contradicted, however, by her own involuntary starts and

shudderings at every leaf which moved, that, in submitting to the

performance of the rite imposed on her, Eveline incurred no real

danger, and only sacrificed to an obsolete family superstition.

As this conviction strengthened on Rose's mind, her purpose of

vigilance began to decline--her thoughts wandered to objects

towards which they were not directed, like sheep which stray

beyond the charge of their shepherd--her eyes no longer brought

back to her a distinct apprehension of the broad, round, silvery

orb on which they continued to gaze. At length they closed, and

seated on the folded mantle, her back resting against the wall of

the apartment, and her white arms folded on her bosom, Rose

Flammock fell fast asleep.

Her repose was fearfully broken by a shrill and piercing shriek

from the apartment where her lady reposed. To start up and fly to

the door was the work of a moment with the generous girl, who

never permitted fear to struggle with love or duty. The door was

secured with both bar and bolt; and another fainter scream, or

rather groan, seemed to say, aid must be instant, or in vain. Rose

next rushed to the window, and screamed rather than called to the

Norman soldier, who, distinguished by the white folds of his

watch-cloak, still retained his position under the old oak-tree.

At the cry of "Help, help!--the Lady Eveline is murdered!" the

seeming statue, starting at once into active exertion, sped with

the swiftness of a race-horse to the brink of the moat, and was

about to cross it, opposite to the spot where Rose stood at the

open casement, urging him to speed by voice and gesture.

"Not here--not here!" she exclaimed, with breathless precipitation,

as she saw him make towards her--"the window to the right--scale

it, for God's sake, and undo the door of communication."

The soldier seemed to comprehend her--he dashed into the moat

without hesitation, securing himself by catching at the boughs of

trees as he descended. In one moment he vanished among the

underwood; and in another, availing himself of the branches of a

dwarf oak, Rose saw him upon her right, and close to the window of

the fatal apartment. One fear remained--the casement might be

secured against entrance from without--but no! at the thrust of

the Norman it yielded, and its clasps or fastenings being worn

with time, fell inward with a crash which even Dame Gillian's

slumbers were unable to resist.

Echoing scream upon scream, in the usual fashion of fools and

cowards, she entered the cabinet from the ante-room, just as the

door of Eveline's chamber opened, and the soldier appeared,

bearing in his arms the half-undressed and lifeless form of the

Norman maiden herself. Without speaking a word, he placed her in

Rose's arms, and with the same precipitation with which he had

entered, threw himself out of the opened window from which Rose

had summoned him.

Gillian, half distracted with fear and wonder, heaped exclamations

on questions, and mingled questions with cries for help, till Rose

sternly rebuked her in a tone which seemed to recall her scattered

senses. She became then composed enough to fetch a lamp which

remained lighted in the room she had left, and to render herself

at least partly useful in suggesting and applying the usual modes

for recalling the suspended sense. In this they at length

succeeded, for Eveline fetched a fuller sigh, and opened her eyes;

but presently shut them again, and letting her head drop on Rose's

bosom, fell into a strong shuddering fit; while her faithful

damsel, chafing her hands and her temples alternately with

affectionate assiduity, and mingling caresses with these efforts,

exclaimed aloud, "She lives!--She is recovering!--Praised be God!"

"Praised be God!" was echoed in a solemn tone from the window of

the apartment; and turning towards it in terror, Rose beheld the

armed and plumed head of the soldier who had come so opportunely

to their assistance, and who, supported by his arms, had raised

himself so high as to be able to look into the interior of the

cabinet.

Rose immediately ran towards him. "Go--go--good friend," she said;

"the lady recovers--your reward shall await you another time. Go--

begone!--yet stay--keep on your post, and I will call you if there

is farther need. Begone--be faithful, and be secret."

The soldier obeyed without answering a word, and she presently saw

him descend into the moat. Rose then returned back to her

mistress, whom she found supported by Gillian, moaning feebly, and

muttering hurried and unintelligible ejaculations, all intimating

that she had laboured under a violent shock sustained from some

alarming cause.

Dame Gillian had no sooner recovered some degree of self-

possession, than her curiosity became active in proportion. "What

means all this?" she said to Rose; "what has been doing among

you?"

"I do not know," replied Rose.

"If you do not," said Gillian, "who should?--Shall I call the

other women, and raise the house?"

"Not for your life," said Rose, "till my lady is able to give her

own orders; and for this apartment, so help me Heaven, as I will

do my best to discover the secrets it contains!--Support my

mistress the whilst."

So saying, she took the lamp in her hand, and, crossing her brow,

stepped boldly across the mysterious threshold, and, holding up

the light, surveyed the apartment.

It was merely an old vaulted chamber, of very moderate dimensions.

In one corner was an image of the Virgin, rudely cut, and placed

above a Saxon font of curious workmanship. There were two seats

and a couch, covered with coarse tapestry, on which it seemed that

Eveline had been reposing. The fragments of the shattered casement

lay on the floor; but that opening had been only made when the

soldier forced it in, and she saw no other access by which a

stranger could have entered an apartment, the ordinary access to

which was barred and bolted.

Rose felt the influence of those terrors which she had hitherto

surmounted; she cast her mantle hastily around her head, as if to

shroud her sight from some blighting vision, and tripping back to

the cabinet, with more speed and a less firm step than when she

left it, she directed Gillian to lend her assistance in conveying

Eveline to the next room; and having done so, carefully secured

the door of communication, as if to put a barrier betwixt them,

and the suspected danger.

The Lady Eveline was now so far recovered that she could sit up,

and was trying to speak, though but faintly. "Rose," she said at

length, "I have seen her--my doom is sealed."

Rose immediately recollected the imprudence of suffering Gillian

to hear what her mistress might say at such an awful moment, and

hastily adopting the proposal she had before declined, desired her

to go and call other two maidens of their mistress's household.

"And where am I to find them in this house," said Dame Gillian,

"where strange men run about one chamber at midnight, and devils,

for aught I know, frequent the rest of the habitation?"

"Find them where you can," said Rose, sharply; "but begone

presently."

Gillian withdrew lingeringly, and muttering at the same time

something which could not distinctly be understood. No sooner was

she gone, than Rose, giving way to the enthusiastic affection

which she felt for her mistress, implored her, in the most tender

terms, to open her eyes, (for she had again closed them,) and

speak to Rose, her own Rose, who was ready, if necessary, to die

by her mistress's side.

"To-morrow--to-morrow, Rose," murmured Eveline--"I cannot speak at

present."

"Only disburden your mind with one word--tell what has thus

alarmed you--what danger you apprehend."

"I have seen her," answered Eveline--"I have seen the tenant of

yonder chamber--the vision fatal to my race!--Urge me no more--to-

morrow you shall know all." [Footnote: The idea of the Bahr-Geist

was taken from a passage in the Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw, which

have since been given to the public, and received with deserved

approbation.

The original runs as follows. Lady Fanshaw, shifting among her

friends in Ireland, like other sound loyalists of the period,

tells her story thus:--

"From thence we went to the Lady Honor O'Brien's, a lady that went

for a maid, but few believed it. She was the youngest daughter of

the Earl of Thomond. There we staid three nights--the first of

which I was surprised at being laid in a chamber, where, when

about one o'clock, I heard a voice that awakened me. I drew the

curtain, and in the casement of the window I saw, by the light of

the moon, a woman leaning through the casement into the room, in

white, with red hair and pale and ghastly complexion. She spoke

loud, and in a tone I had never heard, thrice. "A horse;" and

then, with a sigh more like the wind than breath, she vanished,

and to me her body looked more like a thick cloud than substance.

I was so much frightened, that my hair stood on end, and my night-

clothes fell off. I pulled and pinched your father, who never

awoke during the disorder I was in, but at last was much surprised

to see me in this fright, and more so when I related the story and

showed him the window opened. Neither of us slept any more that

night; but he entertained me by telling me how much more these

apparitions were common in this country than in England; and we

concluded the cause to be the great superstition of the Irish, and

the want of that knowing faith which should defend them from the

power of the devil, which he exercises among them very much. About

five o'clock the lady of the house came to see us, saying, she had

not been in bed all night, because a cousin O'Brien of hers, whose

ancestors had owned that house, had desired her to stay with him

in his chamber, and that he died at two o'clock; and she said, I

wish you to have had no disturbance, for 'tis the custom of the

place, that when any of the family are dying, the shape of a woman

appears every night in the window until they be dead. This woman

was many ages ago got with child by the owner of this place, who

murdered her in his garden, and flung her into the river under the

window; but truly I thought not of it when I lodged you here, it

being the best room in the house! We made little reply to her

speech, but disposed ourselves to be gone suddenly."]

As Gillian entered with two of the maidens of her mistress's

household, they removed the Lady Eveline, by Rose's directions,

into a chamber at some distance which the latter had occupied, and

placed her in one of their beds, where Rose, dismissing the others

(Gillian excepted) to seek repose where they could find it,

continued to watch her mistress. For some time she continued very

much disturbed, but, gradually, fatigue, and the influence of some

narcotic which Gillian had sense enough to recommend and prepare,

seemed to compose her spirits. She fell into a deep slumber, from

which she did not awaken until the sun was high over the distant

hills.