Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 November 1882 — A GHASTLY MYSTERY. [ARTICLE]

A GHASTLY MYSTERY.

Several years ago it fell to my lot to be on the march with a subaltern of my regiment in Ireland. I was taking a det clunent into a remote part of the country, where I believe some disturbances were apnrehended, and we had been started off at pretty short notice. I hare even now a lively recollection of a long railway journev, the dingy stations we passed, the tedious stoppages, occasional plashes of ra n against the windows, and opr final exit from the train in a dark, draughty shed with a sloppy platform. From here we hid a good long march to our halting-place, through a sad-colored waste, past hillsides of black bog, hardly a fence worth calling one to be seen, now and then a tumble-down hovel by the roadside, and off and on the rain pelting down in the sort of searching cold showers one gets in blca parts of Ireland in the autumn time. Tire town where we were to stay the night was no exception to the general dinginess. After setting the men down into their billets, we “prospected” the prinei al inn in the place, go ; a couple ot' very middling bedrooms, and made up our minds to make the best of the situation. We had divested ourselves of our wet uniforms, entered our little sitting-room with its welcome peat piled fire, examined some hideous sacred prints hung round the walls—.Alnong .them I remember one of St. Ve--'aonica displaying a large liandkerch es ■with the Savior’s face upon it—and were 'busy planning what to associate wth whisky and the jacketed potato, when a note was brought in and handed to me, with a message that some one was waiting for an answer. It was addressed to ~* T.l h e officer commanding detachment, Regimentbut one saw at a glance it was no* gn official communication—the envelope being a dainty white one, and the handwriting almost unmistakably that of a lady. It turned out to he a very courteous invitation from a Mr. and Mrs. M., of Innishderry Hall (we will call it), who, having he rd that •some tro ps wero passing through Moyuetown to-dav, hoped for the pleasure of the officers’ compand at dinner that evening. This was reaPy a timely us well :ts a hosp table offer, so A., my subaltern, and I at once agreed to accept it. Fortunately, when evening came round, and the rickety-looking car that was io jolt us to our entertainers clattered up to the inn door, the weather had cleared a little. Well do I remember the drive; the cold, keen air; a pale hals-moon lighting up the somber landscape; Park islands of bog alternating with pools of shimmering water; hil slopes near, but mysterious. As far us t can remember, we entered the grounds of Innishderry Hall about a inib' end* a half from the town. Already tilt* country had begun to wear a prettier as oet; patches of wood appe >v d; a> d, after passing the lodgegate we be .an to de eend a valley—broken, rocky ground, with clumps of gp ire and larch on either side —till, suddenly emerging from this, the drive swept ro ind a corner, and we were in vie-* of the -ea. A few minu es more, and we were looking down over a<jh riming little bay shut in by cl'ff*, with a boat h gh and dry upon the beach ; and, from t>u point till we sighted the lights of the hou e, copse, park and heather in termi gled one with the ot ier to onr left, while on the right great white linos

of surf quivered and broke in the moonlight. It was a beautiful scene as it presented itself to us in the obscurity of the night-time. Possibly by day some of its enchantment might have been missing, but we did not see it in daylight. Such as it was, it probably impressed me and stamped itself in my memory more on account of the subsequent incidents Which ensued than anything else. The house, as we drew up to it, seemed a large and handsome one. It had a great many windows, a steeppitched roof and was partly ivy-clad. Two long ranges of out-buildings wero attached to it, one at either end; and from that nearest us as we approached ran out an old wall matted with ivystems and forming an inclosure screened by thorn-trees, behind which one could just make out the ruined gable end of a small building. Our driver, who had been most uncommunicative all the wav out as to our host and hostess, condescended to tell us this was a very ancient chapel, which seme ancestor of the family had pulled down and dismantled, “bad luck to him!” The fine entrance-hall—l can recall it now—warmed by an ample stove and well lighted up, with a few dressed fkinS lying about, and a huge ebon cabinet over against the door, made a cheery contrast to the outside car and surroundings we had just left. Round the walls were grouped a splendid pair of stag’s horns, a fox’s head and brush, a stuffed seal and other trophies of a sporting life; and a black buffalo’s ma sive frontlet, surmounting a sheaf of assegais, suggested at once, what we afterward learned to be the case, that our -.erst had been in South Africa. “I wom-ur wliat sort of people they are, Major ?” were A.’s words to me, sotto voce, As he gave his sleeves a final jerk and glanced down critically at his boo s, while we followed the butler to the drawing-room. A moment more and we were face to face with our new acquaintances. I do not recollect anything very noteworthy about our lio?-;. He was a tall and rather handsome man, but of somewhat faded aspect—quiet and genial in his manner. “I am an old soldier myself,” was his greeting to us, “and I never like any one in the service to pass our place on duty without our finding him out.” But our hostess! As I shook hands with her she at once engrossed my attention. I am at a loss now, as I was then, to define the nature or cause of tlie peculiar interest she seemed at once to excite in me. Certainly she was a remarkably handsome woman, but my observation of her at tlie moment of introduction was quickly diverted by the strange demeanor of A. I had turned round, and was in the act of presenting him, when he suddenly started, stopped, and, without attempting a salutation or advance of any kind, stared at her. For the ins'ant the situation was embarrassing. Was the man going to faint, or was he off his head, or wliat? There he stood, stock-still, facing Mrs. M., till in a severe tone I said, “A., this is our hostess. Mrs. M., allow me to introduce Mr. A..” This appeared to rouse him a little, for he made a sort of backward movement which might do duty for a bow, though a vei'y poor apology for it, and caul, “I—l—l beg your pardon,” retiring immediat- ly into the background. If this was bashfulness, it was a curious form of it. I thought, and certainly new in my knowledge of A. This little incident over, I had leisure to look round the room. There appeared Io be about a dozen people in all. Mr. M. introduced me to a relation of his, a Baronet whose name I forgot; to a parson, who assured me in Hibernian aocents that troops had been down there “repea tudly ;” And to a niece, whom I was to take in to dinner. I caught a momentary glimpse of A., and saw to my surprise that he was furtively but intently watching the lady of the house from an obscure corner. I was quietly slipping up to him to Ask what it all meant, when dinner was announced. At the dinner-table I Amnd myself on the left of our hostess, Nhe Baronet opposite me. A. was placed some distance down on the other side, so that I could keep an eye on him, which I soon began to think I must do. I had now an opportunity of noting more particularly Mrs. M.’s personal appearance. Her age I should judge to have been somewhere about 28 or 30— considerably under her husb md’s. Her figure was faultless; neck and arms of that nameless tint one baa so often seen imperfectly described in novels as “creamy white;” a corona of hair of that deep auburn-red which so sets off affair woman; and a face of singular beauty, of which you forgot everything but the eyes the moment you looked into them. Such eyes they were! Their particular size, shape, this or that color, would never occur to one; it was their strange, almost weird, effect wiien turned on you, that, one felt. It was as though they divined what you were thinking of, and could answei your thoughts. Yet it was not a satisfactory or a restful face. I can recall certain • lialf-disagreeablo sensations I experienced as her eyes occasion ally rested on mine while we talked, and once or twice a flash as ot' something almost malevolent somaed to pass out of them. One incident I recollect. "We were discussing pictures, and Mrs. M., pointing to some fine family portraits hung round the dining room, said: “My husband and I are distant cousins, Maj. P., so that, you see we are mutually represents d here; and yonder is a lady of bygone days, supposed to have been very wicked, and to be like me.”

I looked up, and sure enough there gazed down on me from the canvas a woman’s face strikingly like the speaker’s —so like that, except for the quaint costume, the portrait might have been taken for her own. It was a finer specimen than usual of the formal yet fascinating style in which our great-great-grandmothers have been depicted for ns—a stately attitude, regular but immobile features, and exuberant charms sumptuously if somewhat scantily draped. The lady’s figure, as it chanced, was turned toward our end of the table; she held a fan in her hand; the lips had a disdainful, almost derisive, smile, and the eyes, which in such pictures urually appear to be contemp iting the spectator and to follow him about, seemed directed full on our hostess. “There is certainly a likeness,” I said, “but the lady on the wall is entitled, I feel sure, to an entire monopoly of the wickedness.” Mrs. M. laughed and winged a glance at me, and the smile and the eyes were those of the portrait. Another circumstance I remember discovering in looking round the table, which, had I been superstitious, might not have added to my comfort. We were sitting thirteen. Mrs. M., I rather think, must have noticed me counting the number, for she made some remark as if in reply to my thought: “So sorry we were disappointed of one of our dinner party at the very last moment.” Meanwhile A. was again attracting my attention by his extraordinary behavior. His partner, a pretty-looking, lively girl, was evidently doing her best to make herself agreeable, and he was answering her in an intermittent fashion ; but I could see he was eating very little, and crumbling his bread in a nervous, preoccupied manner, while every now and then his eyes wandered to Mrs. M., with a curious, fixed stare that was positively ill-mannered and altogether unaccountable. Instinctively I turned to the same quarter to see what could be the object of this persistent scrutiny, but in vain. There, indeed, was a beautiful woman, dressed to perfection, and with those wonderful eyes; but what right had he to gape at her like that ? I began to wonder if she or any other of the guests would observe A.’s rudeness. I tried to catch his eye, but without success. In a little while I lapsed into comparative silence, and set myself to watch A.’s jnovements more narrowly, as well as I could, across the table. After a time it seemed to me that the direction of A.’s gaze must be at Mrs. M.’s head, or a little above it; but there was nothing I could see to account for this. To be sure, she wore, fastened into the thick top coil of her hair, a jeweled ornament of some kind that seemed to sparkle at times with intense brilliancy; but, still, why this repeated and offensive contemplation at her own table of a married woman, on whom, so far as I knew, neither A. nor I had ever set eyes before? Could these two have been known to each other in some bygone love affair, or was the man gone out of liis wits, or had he taken too much drink ? How this memorable dinner struggled on to a conc'usion, I hardly remember. The more fidgety I got, the more irresistibly was I drawn to watch A. His face wore a pale, scared aspect quite foreign to him, for he was ordinarily a cheery, common-sense fellow, not easily disturbed. At length it seemed that our hostess became aware of the intent observation she was being subjected to; and, before the ladies rose from the dinner-table, her handsome features had grown very white, there was a visible trembl ng movement in her hands, and her eyes took an uneasy expression not previously there. As soon as we men were left alone, and almost before we could reseat our selves, A. turned to our host, and in an odd, muffled voice announced that he felt unwell, and begged permission to take his departure. Mr. M. glanced at me with a puzzled air. “He was so very sorry. Could he do anything? And, of course, the carriage was entirely at Mr. A.’s service.” By this time it was evident that something was really amiss with A.; so I made some sort of excuse that I feared he had Lwd a hard day’s march and got soaked, sent our sincere apologies to Mrs. M., and, rejecting the kind offer of the carriage, we found ourselves out again in the moonlight. The moon was well np, and, as we passed the old ruinous chapel, you could see, through a little pointed window in the gable, the w«ll beyond, half lit up, and dappled over with long shadows from the thorn-tree alongs de. We walked for a little while in silence—l deliberating what to say, whether to be stern or sympathetic, but decidedly inclining to the former. Indeed, whether he were well or ill, the extraordinary gestures and demeaner of A. that evening were unbecoming in the extreme, and, taking place as they did in the presence of bis senior officer, could not be passed over. “Mr. A.” at length I began in an official tone, “1 must ask what is the meaning ”He had been hurrying on with his face averted from me; but now, as I spoke, he suddenly stopped, turned round, and, g asping my arm, broke in with- “So lie!]) me God, Major, the devil stood behind her!” “The devil stood behind her!” 1 said, in utter amazement; “whaton earth do you mean?” “I mean wliat I say; the devil was standing behind her all the time.” His voice fell almost to a whisper and he looked back toward the house, which was still in sight. I could liuve no doubt who he meant by her; but I -was so taken aback that what- to go on saying to the man I knew not. It was ob-

vious he was tinder some strange mental delusion. We walked on . Presently he spoke again, as if to himself. “Behind her by the mantelpiece—behind her chair—that fearful thing’s face—those fiendish eyes, my God!” As I said before, lam not superstitious, but it was neither quite comfortable nor canny hearing those queer exclamations under the peculiar circumstances; in a moonlight walk; dark, umbrageous thickets on one side of us; on the other, black cavernous cliffs, and the melancholy, murmuring sea. As far as my memory serves, we were still a little from way the lodge-gate,when A. stopped again an instant, and said. “Listen! What’s that?” I could hear nothing; but in a few seconds came the distant clatter of a galloping horse along the drive. “Something has happened to her,” whispered A., laying a chill hand on mine. “Anything the matter ?” I shouted to the groom who passed us on the horse. The man called out something, which we were unable to catch, and galloped on. We could see him pull up at the gate, and a woman came out to open it; but, by the time we reached her, horse and rider were out of sight. She was standing staring down the road after them, and I asked her if anything was wrong. “Jesus save us, sur!” she exclaimed, crossing herself, “the man says meelady is dead—she has taken her life!” “Dead! taken her life!” was my ejaculation. “Why, we’ve only just left the house.” Here was indeed a climax to my bewilderment !- But what an announcement! I was utterly unable to realize it—it seemed too monstrous. My first impulse was to run back at once to the Hall and see if we could be of any use; but on second thought it seemed better not. Then, as we hurried out of the park through the tall massive gateway, I heard my companion mutter, evidently still possessed with his hallucination, “Did she see it. too?” About lialf-way to Moynetown we met our car coming out to fetch us, and mounted it. “I seen M.’s man ridin’ by jist now like smoke,” was the remark of our whilom taciturn jarvie; “there’s somethin’ up, I belave. They tells quare tales of that house, an’ the ould chapel, an’ the lights seen about it o’ nights, an’ the sthrange noises people hears thereabout. Och, thin, shure an’ there’s bad luck in that house, sur!” I was too stupefied to stop the fellow’s gabble till his words were out, and they have often recurred to my mind since. When we got back to our inn, the ill news was already in the air. I sent for the landlord, inquired for the principal medical man in the town, and dispatched an, urgent message to him intimating what we had heard and begging him to go out to the Hall immediately. Word was brought back that the doctor had already been sent for, and gone. This done, I felt I hardly dared ask further questions of any one just then. Yet the whole thing seemed like a Tiorrid dream, hardly credible. We two sat up late into the night in the little inn-parlor, I absorbed in the occurrence of this eventful evening, and in painful anticipation of hearing more; A. speaking not a word, but glowering into the fire.

Next morning we were take an early start. Before the iall-in bugle sounded, the little bustling landlady had communicated to us ail sorts of rumors concerning the terrible event that had taken place the night before. Clearly tjie tragic story was all over the town by this time; but the only coherent upshot of the matter we could extract was, that the poor lady down at the Hall had gone up to her bedroom immediately after dinner, and then and there took poison—that they found her stretched on the floor quite dead the face turned to one side, as if averted from something, and with an awfully-fearsome look upon it. It may be imagined I was anything but sorry when I and my men moun f ed the steep hill overlooking Moynetown, on the road to our next billets, with our backs turned upon the scene of this ghastly and mysterious business. I never heard of the M. family again nor did I ever revisit Moynetown. I believe there was an inquest, and a verdict of temporary insanity. A few months afterward I chanced to see something in a local newspaper about Innishderry Hall being to. let; and that “dreadful affair down in County ” was talked of for a while in Dublin in a certain circle of society. As for A, he too passed out of my observation soon after, as lie applied for leave, and got an exchange. He never tokl me more than what I have told the reader, and never again spoke to me on the subject. I suppose some would maintain that A. was gifted with what in Scotland is called “second sight.” Be that as it may, the mystery of how or why “the devil stood behind” that singularly beautiful and fascinating woman—an acquaintance of an evening only —will, I suspect, never be cleared up. — Blackwoop’s Magvzine.

A woman was lately indicted in England for causing the death of her child by denying it adequate nourishment. Investigation showed, however, that tlie mother had fed the child regularly on corn-starch, mixed with a little milk, ignorant of the fact that starch is unable to supply the necessary nutriment to young children. Under these circumstances the woman was of course acquitted. Whf.n a spendthrift of an Engl : sh nobleman was asked if lie was not sorry at having cut down all the fine old oaks on the ancestral grounds, he replied that the only regret he had was that the family tree itself could not be felled and converted into suitable lumber. —Texas Siftings.