Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 September 1884 — THE HAUNTED CAVE. [ARTICLE]

THE HAUNTED CAVE.

BY ALMA M’KEE.

CHAPTER I. A DARK DEED. ’Twas a dark, stormy night. The wind blew in fierce gusts, sweeping everything before it in its mad career,, The mournful notes of a wood-dove were heard, harmonizing well with the eighing of the pine trees and the bendings and creakings of the giant oaks of the forest. The lightnings flashed Athwart the heavens, and played fantastically through the rifts in the foliage. The £hund«- rolled along the valleys, reverberated through the mouutains, and brought up with a crash of destruction among the forest kings which had withstood a century’s storms. Through the fast-falling rain, unmindful though it fell in torrents, unmindful alike of the lightning’s fiash and thunder's roar, two figures pausing near the verge of a precipitous cliff, overhanging the sharp, jagged rocks and swift, black waters below, engaged in a deadly combat, the black mantle of night enshrouding their forms. A few angry gestures, a few vile imprecations, a Sudden push, an agonized cry for help, a splash in the mad, seething waters, and where two forms had stood but a moment before but one remained. The wild winds shrieked, “Murder!” The other elements caught up the refrain, dancing and rumbling and tearing along in maddening glee, bearing it afar through canons and passes down to ?the base, where a large bowlder marked ■the entrance to a cave. Beating back the elements with one hand, while the other held a cane which supported the rheumatic limbs, came a tall, gaunt figure—in hue, a fair semblance of the surrounding blackness—■climbing to the summit of the huge bowlder, it disappeared like a will-o’-the-wisp into the bowels of Mother Earth. v This place was termed the Haunted Cave. Tradition said that whosoever was rash enough to enter never came out again alive. Old Elspie—the witch, or the spaewife, as she was christened—did not venture often from her strange domain, living the life of a recluse, preferring the society of the animals of the forest $o the company of humanity. Whenever necessity compelled her to visit the town for food, her presence was more felt than seen, by the uncanny something which distinguished her. Clothed in a long cloak, with the bood closely drawn about her face, disclosing a pair of jetty orbs, with a smoldering volcano in their depths, «he pnrehased her requirements in a cracked, imperative voice and immediately retraced her steps. There were a very few of the townspeople sufficiently brave to pass the vicinity of the cave after nightfall, not -caring to encounter the dying moans, and groans, and shrieks said to proceed from there. Among those few were two who declared themselves perfectly willing and anxious to visit the ghostly region to satisfy their extreme curiosity 4 , also to have their fate determined by the Witch of the Cave. Ermina Bay and Edwin Palmer had been betrothed since early childhood by their respective parents. No choice in the matter had been granted them; therefore the arrangement assumed the form of a matter of course, no*thought of rebellion having occurred to either party. Love was looked upon by them as simply absurd, as they had never experienced a stronger sentiment than friendship, having journeyed through life thus far unscathed by the <dart of sly Cupid. But Erma was well aware that a great many unpardonable faults made up the greater part of Edwin’s nature, chief among them being pure selfishness and cowardliness; also a fair share of self-conceit. Edwin, on the other hand, admired Erma’s ready wit and sparkling beauty, ■probably thinking as much of her as was in his nature to think of any one, aside from Edwin Palmer; and when Harry Carlton—a poor but honest clerk in the employ of Rav, Palmer & Co.— gallantly touched his hat to Miss Ray, Edwin’s jealousy knew no bounds. “I should like so much for a ramble to-dav, Edwin,” exclaimed Erma, as ahe was about to mount her restive pony, Shylock. “I think that I should like to follow that bridle-pajh through the forest which leads to the mountains and extends within a few feet of old Elspie’s. Oh, I have it!” and she clasped hands joyfully. Let us have our fortjxd‘B told to day, will yon?” Bhylotk began to prauce about, as

though seconding her mistreas’s wish. She was so busily engaged in quieting her dancing pony that she did not notice the pale, half-frightened look of I her companion’s countenance, or the I tightening clutch upon the bridle-rim i of Spitfire. Attributing his silence to embarrassment, for lack of means, she cried, lightly: “Oh, don’t mind that! I have a suffii cient amount with me to cross her I palm twice; never fear. It will make no material difference to Sybil, so long as she receives it. ” And a merry ripple escaped her lips. But his voice sounded harsh and unnatural, as he said: “Indeed! for pity’s sake, Erma, why do you constantly harp on that string ? I don’t wish to seem rude, but I have no desire to beard the lion in his den, if you have. I know that I said some day I would go, and mean to; but not to-day. However, if you have set your heart upon going to-day, why, go it shall be, if you will dispense with my company and substitute Harry Carlton in my place. You must know that he professes to be very courageous,” he said, with a covert sneer.

“I think, Edwin, that you are very inconsistent!” Erma said, disappointedly. However, we will not quarrel. I agree to those terms, providing Mr. Carlton is off duty to-day.” “Oh, I will see to that, and take his place if necessary, and he win lose nothing by the holiday,” he said, slipping from his horse to the ground, with an expression of evil satisfaction in his small, gray eyes, while he began to whistle merrily an opera air as he started in'quest of Harry Carlton. With a look of intense happiness and pleasure depicted in his face, while admiration leaped from his merry blue eyes, Harry Carlton mounted Spitfire, and they rode away, followed by the eyes of many of the village folk, who remarked how well they rode together, and what a handsome couple, Erma’s brilliant brunette beauty contrasting richly with the blonde, manly form and countenance of Harry. They passed the town, crossed the limited moor, then entered the bridlepath winding like a serpent through the forest, leading them slowly but surely to the Witch’s Cave.

CHAPTER n. Were wandering gayly through the glen. To beard the lion in his den; The ghosts and goblins to ensnare. And cuff tlie ears of the spaewife, there. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Harry, don’t sing any more of that daring song. It makes my blood run cold to hear it. And, also, it might bring us trouble, you know, surrounded as we now are by such thick underbrush and foliage. We know not who may be lurking near, and I virtually believe you composed that piece yourself, solely for this occasion.” And a charming point adorned the cherry lips. How Harry longed to kiss it away, but feared to make a declaration that day, as it might appear liasty to Erma, they had known each other so short a time. And well for him that he hesitated ; for undoubtedly her answer would have been a decided negative. But, ah! She was learning the lesson, as might be devined, readily, by the blush on her cheek and the happy light in her great brown eyes, whenever he uttered one of the many pretty compliments which flowed so freely from his lips that day.

Never had Erma been so happy and light of heart. Snatches of song trembled on her lips, and found vent in a carol, which the birds sought to imitate, and swelled their little musical throats with unexcelled melody. She laughed until the silvery eohoes chased one another through the wood, and found their way far up the mountain’s side. Her degree of wit knew no bounds till Harry’s heart leaped and throbbed in ecstasy, alive with the infection. And what a lovely day! The sun’s rays glinted through the rifts in the foliage, gilding each leaf with an irridescent beauty. Wild flowers bloomed profusely. The small streams laughed and gurgled on their way; and even the ponies apparently enjoyed the scene, jumping and prancing when crossing the fallen trees, startling their riders into fears of being unseated. At length they reached the mountains, and Erma inhaled a long, delicious draught of the pure, exhilarating air.

They slowly followed the well-beaten trail, and ere long came to a halt near the large bowlder— the entrance to the haunted cave. “Shall weprqpeed, Miss Ray, Erma?” suddenly askea her companion, designating the cave. “Yes, certainly,” she replied, while her cheeks blanched, as a tide of memories swept over her, of the current reports of the townspeople, cansing a shudder to convulse her slender frame. But Erma had no idea of abandoning the chase, becoming able soon to join her companion in refuting the supernatural nonsense. They dismounted, Harry tenderly receiving Erma irom her horse, and after tethering them to trees, they made their way on foot to the entrance. Tapping gently at the door, a thin, high-pitched voice bade them come in. The accents were not promising; but there was no alternative, and Harry Carlton, raising the latch, entered with Erma. The interior struck them with interest—not the room itself, that was rude and plain, similar to most Scotch shielings ; but its occnpant, who was seated by the cold hearth. Her language, as will be seen, gave one the impression that she came from the Higlands. She was gaunt and bony of frame, her angularity being increased by her height, which was quite six feet. Her features, though large, had once been handsome, and still were so, though thin and haggard; her eyes yet retained the brilliancy of youth, blended, however, with the wildness of evident insanity. Her long, osseous arms were bare to the elbow; her hair fell in iron gray scant locks upon her shoulders, while about her head was bound an old tartan shsywL Her attire was poor, consisting of a blue poinsey petticoat that did not touch the-, ground, and a plaid thrown loosely but not unnrtistieally

round her shoulders, while her bearing possessed singular dignitv and power. As the two entered, without altering her position save by slightly turning her head, she said: “An’ what may ye want here?” “Our fortunes, if you please, Elspie —no more,” replied Erma, in gentle tones. “I and my friend were sure you would not refuse ns. ” “Refuse ye! Wherefore should I? Ye are Mies Ermina Ray, of Estabrooke. Ye may e’en sit there,” and she extended her lean arms to a settee at the other side of the hearth. “Y'e need na’ think o’ disturbing Elspie. Elspie a’ her ain thoughts to occupy her, which your cl avers, if na’ too loud, will na’ disturb. So ye maun na’ disturb her, and she’ll na’disturb ye for a little. ” Saying these words with an almost haughty hospitality, she bent her gaze again on vacancy; and, apparently instantly forgetting their presence, sat silent and thoughtful, save when bebeath her breath she abruptly crooned forth some wild, glowing, heart-stir-ring, or weird, sobbing, wailing Gaelic verse. Erma Ray, pressing Harry’s arm to warn him to make no remark, as she saw by the wonderful expression he was about to do, drew him to the settee, where they sat down side by side, talking in whispers. This was a new phrase in Highland life to the young man, and he could not resist commenting upon it. He had heard of Elspie, the spaewife, but this was the first time he had beheld her. “She is in a brooding fit,” whispered Erma, “when they say k’s dangerous to question her if you would have a bright future.” “The ignorant superstition of the peasant,” smiled Harry. “I scarcely know,” responded Erma, gravely. “Fliave heard that some of her prophecies for good and for ill have come true.” Ever and anon the bright eyes of the spae-wife were turned for a second upon them. “Dinna trust the future that’s marked for ye, lassie; it’s no’ to be trusted. Ye are a braw, bonnie chiel, but there is sair sorrow in store for ye. Dinna believe the laddie ye’re pledged to—he’ll deceive ye! He’ll cause yer heart to greet sairly—sairly. There is blood upon his hands—such crime that a dagger will be plunged into bis breast. Ah! the future is sae full o’ clouds, but I can see the sun, lassie. ’Twill shine onye and the ane ye’re with to-day. Ye’ll marry him some day, lassie, an’ a happy life ye’ll live. After the other ane is dead, for I maun tell ye there’s murder this day on his soul.” “Oh, Elspie!” cried Erma, turning pale, and cowering closer to the side of the settee. At length both rose from thej settee, confronting the woman. She, too, had risen while speaking, and now, drawn to her full height, her eyes wild as a second Cassandra, her long arms tossed, seemed indeed the awful representative of Fate. Even the young gentleman was awed, though he said, sternly: “This is poor hospitality, Elspie.” “It’s na’ by my ain will, laddie,” retorted the woman, mournfully. “I maun speak that which is sent to my tongue. I say dinna trust in the future ye are thinking o’, lassie, for it’s na true. He’ll cause ye sair, sair pain and greetings. ” Her manner increased in wildness; her excitement was insanity, and both her guests felt it their desire to start for home. After crossing her palm twice with silver, Harry drew Erma’s arm within his and led her to the door. The two, quitting the shealing, hastened down the mountain path, but had not reached their horses, when a series of moans, groans, wailings, and shrieks tilled the air, proceeding from all directions, seemingly. “Oh, Harry, what is that?” exclaimed poor Erma, covering her face with her hands. “I do not know,” responded Harry; unless the cave harbors a band of gypsies. And yet I have never seen any, or heard of any being around. Our spaewife resemble one to me, I must say. Strange, strange!” “Let us hurry, please, and get away from here. This whole place seems to be infested by demons.” “My poor girl, I do not wonder that you think so! Yes, let us hasten.”

CHAPTER 111. VENGEANCE. Die, coward, die! your time has come! ’Tis Elspie’s hand that strikes none other. Revengo 1 seek, and that I’ll have! Yon murdered him—he was my brother! And was this the same day? Yes; but a few hours later only. Erma’s heart felt like lead in her bosom; and, seek as she might, she could not dispel the feeling of gloom which the enunciation of old Elspie had awakened in her breast. “Heed not the words of yon madwoman ; they are as harmless as thistledown !” exclaimed Harry Carlton, contemptuously. But, nevertheless, Erma was overjoyed to see the chimneys of Estabrooke appear in sight, and said as they dismounted : “Rei’haps I am foolish, but I do feel a presentiment of coming evil that I cannot shake off. I presume it is on account of that woman’s prophecy. ” “I am very sorry we went, Miss Ray, if it is to effect you thus,” said Harry, anxiously. “Oh, nonsense!” she retorted, playfully ; “I dare say I shall forget all about it by tea-time. Will you not sup with us.jMr. Carlton?” “Many thanks, but I have a pressing engagement for this evening, which cannot be postponed,” he replied, too proud to disclose the genuine reason, that of his shabby attire. “Well, good day, then.” “Au revoir, Miss Ray,” and he touched his hat, bending his steps toward town. Could he have seen the look of jealousy and hatred which followed him from a certain pair of blazing eyes, he, too, must have felf a presentment of coming evil. But, as it was, his spirits rose in the ascendant, his heart felt depressed no longer, as with elastic step he pursued his way, thinking over the latter part of Erma’s fortune, which concerned himself so deeply.

I He did not leave his books that evening nntil after 10 o’clock, striving to make up for lost time. The next morning early, he was aroused fron his slumbers by a succession; of heavy raps at his door. He hurriedly dressed, and was very much startled and annoyed at beholding before him three men displaying on their coat lapels police badges. “We arrest you, Henry Carlton, in the name, of the law, for larceny, com-' mitted last night at the firm of Palmer, Ray & Co. No delay, I hope, is necessary on your part. ’Tis best to come right along.” Poor Harry was dumbfounded. He could not understand at all; but, reasoning that the mistake would soon all be righted when he was allowed to inquire into the affair, he became less downcast. But, ah, false hopes! How difficult for the innocent to work, even with right on their side, if they cannot control might. He had the morning before exchanged his heavy coat for a thinner one, to accompany Miss Ray, and after coming back to the office rechanged again, the weather having bebecome And now, horrible to witness, bills to the amount of four thousand dollars,besides a large amount in bonds, were brought forth from the breast-pocket of the coat be now wore. “Great God!” he groaned, “where did that come from ?” “You can tell that best yourself, no doubt,” answered Edwin Palmer, satirically. Four long, dreary weeks sped by, with Harry Carlton languishing in prison, and Erma, with pale cheeks and sad, hollow eyes, praying for his acquittal. “Too late,” she moaned, wringing her hands, “too late! I have learned to love him too late. But, my Harry is no felon. Some one is working his injury, I would stake my life on it. Oh, my love, my love. ” When Edwin Palmer called to.j>ress his suit, and urged a speedy day for their union, Erma felt in no "haste to marry. Her sentiments toward him had vastly changed since her ramble with Harry, but she did not like to wound his feelings by acquainting him with the fact. She felt exceedingly guilty. He is more loyal than I, ” she tearfully exclaimed. “But I cannot tell him now, I cannot!” she moaned piteously. “My heart is too sore.” Then occurred to her the prophetic words of the spaewife : “He’ll cause your heart to greet sairly, sairly,” spurning the remembrance from her. With clenched hands and a curse on his lips, Edwin Palmer left Erma, inwardly blaming “that hound in prison for it all,” exclaiming wrathfully: “He is just beginning to reap his just reward, for he not only has stolen money,” he chuckled, “but Erma’s heart. ”

Yea, he went, little guessing what was in store for him. He had an appointment to keep that night with one of his colleagues in crime, and the place .chosen for the meeting was the brow of the mountain. As I have said before, Edwin Palmer was a great coward, and he shivered violently as he hurried along on foot, casting frequent and fearful glances around him, his ears alert to every sound, his eyes strained to their uttermost, striving to pierce the night. A peculiar whistle was heard, which immediately .was answered by the nowassured Palmer. The two met and preceeded at once to business. From their conversation, they were members of a gang of desperadoes, for which a large reward was being offered. As yet they were not suspected of the relation. They had gambled until they had lost what they had previously gained by crime, and bad met this night to arrange for a raid on"some reliable firm. They were discussing the probability of firing the safe of a certain bank, when a tall, black figure emerged from the shadows and confronted them. Edwin Palmer’s companion slunk back into the shade, and he was about to follow, when the apparition addressed him thus: “Edwin Palmer, if you stir from that spot I will shoot you down like a dog. Now, confess your crimes. Are you one of the mountain cut-throat gang? Speak, villain!” “And make you my father confessor ? Ha, ha, ha!" “Do you see this weapon ? Answer me, or it will be the worse for you; I swear it!” “Well, yes; but I never take life.” “You do not, eh? That remains to be proven. Edwin Palmer, are you the wretch that caused Harry Carlton to be imprisoned? Speak, coward!” “Oh, mercy, mercy! Iam!” he wailed faintly, while his knees smote together. “I have but one score more to settle with you, and shall then send you upon a long journey. But before Ido this, I command yon other villain to come here. You see I was prepared for this meeting. In the presence of your confederate in crime. Edwin Palmer, I wish you to sign your name to this document. It is only the confession of your two late crimes that I have already questioned you about; read it if yon like. The first, your alliance with this gang of cut-throats; second, causing another to suffer for your sin. ” Drawing a dark lantern from beneath her cloak, she offered pen and ink to the trembling youth. He signed his name scarcely conscious that he did so, then passed it back again to old Elspie, for she it was. She then gravely extended the paper to his companion to append his name as witness. “Now swear,” said Elspie, solemnly, “tflat you will not pause after leaving this spot, until you have seen Judge Wiseman, and handed to' him this document, also the note which I shall give. ” “I swear,” he said, “that I will not pause after leaving you, nntil I appear in the presence of the Judge.” “Very well, then, fly! I leave the punishment of vour crime with your God.” Then tnrningffo Palmer, she said: “Die, coward, d o! Your time has come, ’Tis Kl.spie s hand that strikes, none other; Revenge I seek, revenge I’ll have. You murdered him: he was my brother". “Have mercy/’ ho pleaded, as El-

spie’s weird, piophetic words rang out emphatic and clear on the night air. j “Even as you had mercy on that fatal night. You now repeat the same words he uttered. ’Tis well." She plunged the dagger to the hilt in his breast, then gave him a push forward over the same spot which had | echoed the death-ory of that other on I the night upon which our story commences. The next day the body of Edwin ' Palmer was found, cold and rigid in death, on the rocks below, with the dagger yet buried in his breast. The hilt bore the name of the executioner—Old Elspie—and beneath the' name was carved, legibly: “Retribution." CHAPTER IV. CONCLUSION. I cannot tell yon why I love yon, Love wtre lost If it could speak:; But your voice la as the bird-song. As the dewy rose your cheek. M. C. B. Fierce and indignant parties, upon learning who had done the deed, forgot all former fear in regard to the cave, and started in pursuit of the old witch. They entered the shaeling, but nothing except bare walls met their fierce, revengful faces. “Flown!” they ejaculated, and turned toward the door. They were in the act of crossing the threshold when a chorus of demoniac voices filled the cave, while one of them scornfully exclaimed: “Seek, but you will not find! Revenge is sweet.” They did not return, as the brave ones were now few in number, but, rather, buried the corpse. Harry Carlton was liberated immediately upon receipt of the paper, with many congratulations and hand-shakes from a> multitude. Prejudice was greatly weakened against old Elspie by the townspeople when the facts were made known, bui never again was she seen alive by them. The memory of Edwin Palmer was not observed long by Erma, and one bright, sunny day, as they strolled o’er the mountain, many sad thoughts with pleasant ones conflicting, Harry repeated the old, old story for Erma’s especial benefit, and her soft, sweet answer was, “Yes, Harry, but some one may hear.” He gazed down into her blushing face and answered: “Only the birds, my Erma.” A cracked, discordant voice startled them, exclaiming menacingly: “Did I na’ tell to ye, lassie, how it maun be ?” Not long after poor Elspie’s body was found in the cave, dead, and among her effects was found the key to the haunted cave: She was a ventrilo’quist.