Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 September 1875 — THE POMPRET SKELETON. [ARTICLE]

THE POMPRET SKELETON.

When I first saw South Clyde I pronounced it the prettiest village I had ever seen. It was certainly picturesque, quiet and lovely. I was driving out or the town with a friend. “There is a June picture,” said I. “ There is Pomfret’s house,” remarked my friend. “Which one?” “ The large one on the hill yonder, with terraces and fountains.” “And who is Pomfret?” I asked. “He was the great man of the place. Within a year he has died abroad.” “And who occupies that fine place now?" “ I do not know.” The next day I was shut up in my con-sulting-room In the town, and South Clyde seemed like some beautiful stereoscopic view instead of a reality. I had seen it under its loveliest auspices. I was fated to see it under others. My life was dragging very wearily just then; but one day something remarkable happened to me, calling me out of myself. One morning a handsome barouche stopped at my door, the footman leaped to the ground, and appearing next moment before me with a note. He merely left the note in my hand and departed. I turned my attention to the note. It was as follows: Dear Doctor—l am im great need of your professional skill. Please come to my house this evening at five o’clock; I will send the carriage for you. This being a matter requiring great tact and caution, take the cue from me when we meet, and appear to have known me in London, when you studied in the hospitals there. You perhaps comprehend already whan the skeleton is that abides in my house. Use your eyes and proceed with caution, and I will enlighten you further at my first opportunity. Ralph Pomfret, of South Clyde. A singular-enough epistle, but I had occasionally received more incoherent ones from anxious friends. I was seldom called -out of town. I recollected the beautiful Pomfret place, at South Clyde, and I apprehended that, thither I was to go. But I was at a loss what more to anticipate. At five precisely the Pomfret carriage arrived. The coachman shut me in and we whirled swiftly away. I remember that the dim evening sky was full of gold, and I enjoyed the luxury of the riae extremely. * * The horses’ springing hoofs struck a little bridge, and then we passed* a gate, held open by a maq, and I divined that we had entered the Pomfret ground. At length we emerged near the house, which was certainly very handsome. I had only time for a rapid survey of the premises when a gentleman came hurriedly toward the carriage as I descended and grasped my hand. ’ “Doctor, you are very welcome. 1 feared something would happen to prevent your coming. * I was anxious that it should be you who visited us now.” v “Mr. Pomfret?” I said, shaking his hand, which still held mine nervously: “ Yes, I am the present resident herewith my sister,” in a low tone. We were walking toward the house. My companion was a young man of about twenty-four, very handsome, with a pale face, of remarkable sweetness. ■. -- “We must go ip directly,” he said. “ I cannot stop to talk with you here. My

sister maybe observing us from a window. Understand, you are not a physician, but Air. Richmond. Here we are; be quite at your ease now.” He had preceded me into the hall, and, flinging open a door, ushered me into a quiet, elegant room, where a lady sat at work. She was petite and graceful, with a very sweet and gracious manner. She dropped her work and came forward, a little anxiously, I thought “My sister, Miss Pomfret, Mr. Richmond. Emma, please order tea immediately.” “Yes,” she answered, and passed quietly from the room. “You have seen her now,” said Mr. Pomfret, immediately that she was gone. “ What is your first impression?" “ She is a very lovely young lady, and appears quite well,” I answered, a little bewildered. “ Observe her closely,” he whispered, for her light step was on the threshold again. She was followed by a servant, who placed a light in the globe of alabaster swinging from the ceiling and retired. “ Tea will be served immediately, Ral. Ate have had a very warm day, Mr. Richmond,” she said, crossing the room to draw a curtain near me. “The July heat has been oppressive in the town,” I said, “but you can know little of the severe weather here.” “Is the fever still prevalent in the town?” she asked. “ I believe there have been no new cases within a few days,” I stammered, and to change the subject rose and examined the pictures, and so led the conversation to other matters; but I was far from being at ease in a false position, and took advantage of the first opportunity to ask Mr. Pomfret if his sister supposed me to be recovering from a fever. “ Yes,” he answered, “ and as I thought it might be necessary I intimated the possibility of your remaining with us for a little time. Will it be possible?” “ I think not. I have patients in town who require my daily attendance.” “ But I will have you taken in every day by the carriage,” he replied eagerly. The servant had brought in tea and Miss Pomfret had been giving him some directions; but now she glanced toward us, nervously, I thought, as she announced tear— *—

We seated ourselves at the table. Miss Pomfret drank her tea composedly; her brother ordered iced sherbet and partook of little else. “The hot weather takes away my taste, and I don’t think it is good for you to drink that hot tea, Emma,” said Pomfret. “You had much better have a glass of this,” and he passed her a goblet of the sherbet. As she took it I saw that her little white hand trembled. moment later he 6bserved that she did not drink it. “Isn’t it sweet enough?” he asked. Then, with a merry, winning smile, he held it to her lips. “To please me!” he murmured. She smiled a little, and tasted it ; but I saw that she was trembling very much. “Good child !” he said, playfully; then suddenly he rose from the table ana threw himself into another chair. “Are you ill, Ral?” asked Emma, starting toller feet. “No, but my head aches terribly,” pressing his hands to both sides of his forehead. Then, seeming to recover himself, he addedl hope you will excuse me. I seemed to be losing my senses. If Mr. Richmond will excuse me for a moment I will retire to my room.” “ Let me accompany you!” I exclaimed, “ It may be sunstroke.” I forgot that I might be revealing my professional character as I accompanied him to the chamber and examined his condition. Miss Pomfret came in, bent over her brother and parted the hair upon his forehead.

“Is he going to be ill ?” she asked me_ “No, I think not,” I answered, somewhat at a loss for a moment under her clear eyes. As she sat there caressing his forehead he fell into a deep sleep. She closed the window beside the bed softly, and we went down-stairs. Though I had not had a fever, it is true that I was not well, and I did not entertain the idea of returning home that night. When Miss Pomfret asked me if I would enter the library I asked to be shown my room. Not only was I exhausted in body, but I shrank from a tete-a-tete with her; my false position was embarrassing; and I was not prepared for my part. 1 My room was a perfect boudoir of luxury, and I lay awake for a long time watching the moonlight shimmer on the lace curtains. At last it crept up to a picture upon the wall. It was the portrait of a man. I had not noticed it at all before I extinguished my light. It seemed to gleam out suddenly upon the wall as I caught sight of it. I sprang up on my elbow to look at it. A remarkably alert, nervous figure of a gentleman, not more than thirty years <fld, with a pale, delicate and sweet countenance. The eyes were very large'and melancholy; and I thought I detected in them a slight wildness of expression. There was something winning and fascinating in the face. It was beautifully painted, and seemed endowed with life. Its eyes seemed fixed on mine and to gaze down on me with a baffling meaning which thrilled me. As I sank back I still felt them watching me. Still half conscious of the portrait I fell into an uneasy slumber. I could not have slept long when I was awakened by a slight noise near me. I half opened, then closed my eyes, for I saw that some one was looking at me. It was a woman. She had long, fair hair, unbound, and a lighted taper in her hand. I thought it was Miss Pomfret. I had no idea what it meant; I only felt that I must not stir; that I must counterfeit sleep. It must have been for nearly five minutes that she stood looking at me. Them she turned softly awav, and after glancing about the room looked up ap the picture on the wall. I opened my’eyes and watched her. Her face was too sad for tears; she sighed '•’heavily, and turned slowly away. I saw, as she went, that it was Miss Pomfret She closed the door ■softly; then all was quiet A thought

flashed over me as I lay. The girl’s brain was affected. I could not sleep after that, I was so excited with my discovery. Her case was evidently a rare one; its symptoms almost too subtle for discovery, but now I had the clew I could soon determine an opinion. It was plain that this was what the brother hinted at—what he feared. I remember with what suspicion she had regarded me for a moment the previous evening, and how nervous and anxious she had repeatedly appeared later. Was she conscious of her own weakness, then ? I wondered what her motive was in coining to my room, resolving that if I remained at South Clyde another night I would lock my door. • Quite early, and not very much refreshed, I found my way to. the breakfastroom the next morning. Pomfret, in a rich dressing-gown, was walking to and fro. He greeted me in a somewhat subdued manner, and then commenced to walk to and fro again in an absent and preoccupied manner. I was silent, for I felt the importance of my subject, and unwilling to broach it while the servant went in and out, laying the cloth for breakfast. As last I said: “ Shall we take a stroll in the garden, Mr. Pomfret ?”

He lifted his eyes to mine with such a look of intense pain that I was startled. “We shall have time for a little chat, shall we not, before breakfast?” I asked. “ Yes—oh, yes,” he answered hurriedly. He seemed so agitated that I pitied him. He divined that I had made a discovery, and dreaded the revelation of it. He took his hat in his hand, but did not put it on; we went down the steps; I saw that there was a feverish color upon his cheeks, and he seemed to court the dewy morning breeze, which was very fresh and rather chilled me. We walked the length of a long path edged with pansies and pinks before die silence was broken. “ I have made a discovery,” I said at last. He flashed upon me an inexpressible look—furtive, defiant, fearful and something more. “ I am sorry, very sorry to pain you," I said, “ but you probably already anticipate what I believe I have divined—that your sister’s mind is affected.” He grew very pale; and yet I thought he breathed easier than he had done a moment before. But he was very much agitated and sat down upon a rustic bench, crushing his hat with trembling hands. “ Before I proceed to any measures I would like you to tell me anything of your family history which bears upon the matter,” I said. “If this disease is hereditary ” “It is—it is!” he interrupted eagerly. “ My father died insane—my grandfather, also.” “ The tendency is on your father’s side of the family, then?” “Yes. My mother was singularly healthful in mind and body.. Not robust, but sound and even-temperpd.” “ She was a blonde ?” “Yes.” «./ “Your father was dark-complexioned and of a nervous temperament?” “ He was.” “Is that a portrait of him which hangs in the room I occupied last night ?” As I expected, he replied in the affirmative. I had already noticed the resemblance in the whole appearance of the young man. The same elegant, active figure; the same brilliant, melancholy face. “It is a frightful malady to have in a family,”_Jie said, trembling. He was looking toward thehouse, and his glance wandered to one of the upper windows. “ That window is barred on the inside,” he said, in a low tone. “For what reason?” “My father died there,” he almost whispered. He trembled so that I reseated him and laid my hand upon his shoulder. “Hope for the best, Mr. Pomfret. In these days insanity becomes more and more undet medical control. You have means to fesort to any remedy, and your sister is so young and healthy that I am not at all despondent of the matter.” “My sister,” he murmured absently, and sat lost in thought. I looked around me at the graceful mansion, the garden, the avenues, stately and luxuriant. The gardener came out of the hot-house with a magnificent bouquet, which he took into the house. Prosperity seemed to reign everywhere; and yet my eyes came back to the drooping figure of the master of this beautifully-adorned garden with a weight of compassion. He looked very young; and, as I have said, there was something singularly winning about him. The fibers of my frame were seasoned to the work of living, and the impulse to put my experience and strength to this young life’s support rose warm within me.

“ Mr. Pomfret,” I said, “ I am an older man than you. Perhaps I may have learned a little wisdom in ten years more of living. Here is the hand of a friend as well as that of a.physician.” “ God bless you ; o he said. “ Doctor,” lie added, “my need is beyond human help.” The breakfast bell jingled, and he turned quickly. “ Let us go in. Emma will miss us.” “ How much he looks like his father,” I thought again as he seated himself at the table, For the delicate and brilliant smile came back in his sister’s presence. His manner, with its singular attention for her, was a study. I could not but admiie them both. At last we rose from the table. Miss Pomfret went to the v/indow, where she stood f&ding a goldfinch between the bars of his cage with sugar; yet I felt that she' heard every word her brother said. “ I will send you by the carriage,” he said, in a low voice. “ You will not fail to return with it at any fiour you may choose. It is at your disposal.” " “ I will return,” I answered as quietly as possible. “Emma,” said the young gentleman, “ I shall be engaged in my chamber all day. Ido not wish to be disturbed until our hour of dining. I have writing to do. I shall probably finish it by six o’clock,” looking at hi/fwatch.

“ Shall I send up luncheon?” “No; do not disturb me on any account” “ Very well,” she answered. Her voice was singularly placid and sweet. I turned to look at her as I left the room. She looked so small, so fairy-like, so appealing lovely, that I involuntarily paused. Her cheek was very pale; I haa observed that when she first came down. Now I thought she looked into my face with an expression of sadness and sorrowful appeal. It was very strange, but there was nothing in her appearance to warrant the suspicion I had regarding her. “lam afraid you anticipate a lonely day, Miss Pomfret,” I said. She shook her head with a faint smile. “I am used to being alone. I don’t mind it.” “ Can I execute any commission for you in town?” _ “ No, thank you; I need nothing,” she answered. • ' ' * She sat down on a little lounge of rosecolored velvet, her white dress sweeping the floor, and a tiny Blenheim spaniel leaping after the long tassels which depended therefrom. Her face was bent down to him, but there was a smile upon it. “ There are some sorrows which even wealth cannot alleviate,” I said to myself; and went away with an aching heart. She was so young, so lovable, it seemed hard indeed for the brother to bear. I thought, if she were my sister, that it, Would break my heart. I thought of the matter at its worst and wondered what he could do without her. I could not decide yet what course it was beat for me to take; but I was determined that no power of mine should be spared to save the happiness of this young and lovely jjirl. I was so lost in thought upon the subject that the day’s duties were irksome to me, and when I returned from my rounds and found the Pomfret carriage waiting at my door for me it was a relief. All my interests seemed synonymous with those of my new acquaintances, and the demands of others subordinate.

“Drive fast,” I said, somewhat to the coachman’s surprise; but it was six o’clock before we arrived at the mansion. It had rained hard during the day, and the roads were bad. As I gave the servant my hat in the hall, Miss Pomfret came down-stairs. “ I hope you have not waited dinner for me,” I said. “We have not dined,” she answered; “ my brother has not come down.” She looked far from happy, I thought: yet the serenity of her appearance I had never yet seen entirely disturbed. There was nothing remarkable about her but her habitual silence, and the mournful and absent expression of her eyes, which I obsessed for the second time. I went to my room to arrange my dress. In less than half an hour a servant called me to dinner. I met Mr. and Miss Pomfret in the din-ing-room. The young man was deadly pale, and yet appeared to be nervous and excited. Fearing that something had happened to distress him during my absence I glanced narrowly at Miss Pomfret. I was surprised at her heightened color and the nervousness with which she presided at the table. Other guests were present, several gentlemen and a lady, evidently persons of wealth and distinction; yet I wondered that her high breeding did not place her entirely at ease. She was inattentive and nervous to a marked extent. *

Mr. Pomfret was at first silent, but entered into conversation at last, and spoke animatedly—indeed, with almost boisterous mirth. Looking at his flushed brow I gave a sigh for the inward misery I suspected. “ More wine, Mr. Courtney!” he said to one of the gentlemen. “ Let us drink freely—drink to forgetfulness—to oblivion of life!” There were deprecating exclamations. “What!” exclaimed Pomfret, starting to his feet, “ do you wonder that I gave that toast? You think, then, that lam a happy man ?” He tossed off the wine, motioning the others to do the same; but we all sat motionless, looking at him. His manner was excited —almost frenzied. “You think so? Ha, ha!” laughing wildly. Why, the beggar at my door is more to be envied than I, for there is a curse upon me! A skeleton sits at my daily board—is here among us now! Do you not see it? No, v no; you are blind! Heavens! the air is full of invisible demons, dancing for joy! They gloat in my misery!” At that moment the truth flashed upon me. I left my seat and drew near to Pomfret, whispering a word to the butler, who was an intelligent and powerful man. Pomfret stood gazing fixedly into the air, the empty glass in his extended hand. “ Mr. Pomfret,” I said, gently, trying to catch his eye for mastery, “you have forgotten yourself; you have taken too much wine. Let me accompany you to your room.” “ Forget! I cannot —forget!” he said, in pathetic despair. “My skeleton is before me! There she sits—my sister. You see her fair hair, her blue eyes like my mother’s.’* She thinks she will escape'itso; but she never wHl —never, never! The skeleton grins under her fair cheek, looks out of her eyes, laughs on her lip. You see it in her every motion. God! it is coming upon me. I will fight to my death.” Miss Pomfret had arisen, and was approaching him. In her solicitude she aid not fear mm. I motioned her away, but she would not obey, and as she came nearer he sprang upon her, bending her back as if she were a reed; her agonized screams rang through the room. We sprang upon him, tore off his hold, bound him hand and foot Already had the rabid howl broken from his lips. He. was frothing, raging, senseless. When he was taken from the room, and all that cAld be done for him administered in his Chamber, when all the guests had gone, and the frightened servants were all at work under my directions, I heard an agonized weeping. It cut my heart like a knife; I recognized the tones of Emma Pomfret’s voice. iflf was midnight before I sought her out Her brother’s raving was subdued by the influence of a powerful narcotic, but it was only a temporary alleviation.

She lay on the library sofa. The room was perfectly still, but I could see the shimmer of her dress in the dim tight. I bent over her and saw the heavy lias dart from the fixed and mournful eyes. I put mj hand on her forehead; it was cold as marble. “ Miss Pomfret,” I said, “let me give you a little care.” She murmured a few words expressive of her indifference, and I saw that she seemed unconscious of all I did. I administered wine, ordered a fire and drew the sofa before it; still the frigid misery of her face did not soften. “ You must not get ill,” I said, watching her with great anxiety; “I shall want you to help me take care of your brother.” “No help will a Vail,” 'she said apathetically. Let me, too, die if I will. The utter despair of her words forced me to silence. Suddenly she broke into tearless moaning, repeating her brother’s name. “ Oh, Ral, my darling brother,” she sobbed;“ nothing more for you in life but bars and chains. So good, so true, so tender to me, and you will never know me again! Help for him!” turning to me, “ did not my father do so, and his father before him, and have I not long known that there is no help for a Pomfret when the curse of his family overtakes him ? You can do no good, Dr. Leroy; you had best leave us to our despair.” She knew me, then; but I hardly gave that matter a thought. I fixed my eyes earnestly upon her face and said: “ I shall not leave you because I love your brother. I offered him my friendship before this affliction came, and heshall have it now. I shall tend him to the last.” For the first time she seemed to give me her attention. “Willyou let me be your friend?” I said, after a pause, taking the little cold hand.

“ If you will,” she syllabled.. I could not persuade her to go to rest, so I remained by her, talking. “ I knew who you were from the first,” she said. “ I have long known Ral’s delusion, that I needed watching; he struggled against it, poor boy, and still it mastered him. When you came I was only suspicious who you might be;. I thought I had seen you but a year previ-. ous in a railway carriage, asleep. I knew you then to be a young physician, late from London. After you came I could not rest until I was satisfied who you were; and, to do this, I could most effectually convince myself by seeing you in your sleep. With this motive in view I ventured into your chamber last night. I satisfied myself.” I did not think it best to tell her then that I knew of her visit. At dawn she fell asleep, and slumbered until nearly noon. She came to my side then, collected, firm and helpful. Together we watched with poor Ral until he died. He never knew her, the darling sister whom he had loved even in his madness; but, for her sake, I was thankful that he passed away with less suffering than I haa feared for him. When all was over she came to me with a package of papers which she had found in his private desk. Her drooping little figure, which instantly wrung my heart, I placed in an easy-chair, and. then I opened the closely-folded sheets and read them aloud: I have but little time in which to act with reason; let me take advantage of it. First, Emma, forgive me for the pain which I have repeatedly put to you. My dear and only sister, you know ihe curse is upon me, but you do not know how long It has worked within me. I have struggled against fiendish thoughts for months, returning again to reason and remorse, and with terror at what I have escaped. Sometimes I think I have betrayed myself to you and others, and you only allow me liberty on sufferance. You cannot do that long; yesterday the third spasm overtook me; Emma, you witnessed the symptom and know its meaning. I know that any hour now I may go mad. O God! so young, so hopeful I have been, too. But there is no hope for a Pomfret. Thank Heaven, I have no son to inherit the horror of my blood! My precious sister, the time is drawing nigh when we must part. The gentleman whom you know as Mr. Richmond is a skillful physician named Leroy. While under the influence of my malady I brought him here to detect in you the signs of insanity. He is a gentleman—a man of fine feelings. If he offers to defend you when you are alone, my poor Emma, trust him. To him I bequeath my carriage and horses, my saddle-horse and accoutrements. Our home is yours, you know, darling, by inheritance. Sly moneys and real estate you will find bequeathed to you in my formal will made a year ago. Little sister, good-by. l know how good you are—how you have suffered. It is better that I should die. You will miss me, I know; but the grass will grow green on my grave at last, and the curse of.our race will have spent its power. You will not transmit it to jour children. You are our mother’s child and your blood is pure. You have nothing to fear; you have only to be happy when lam _ _ _ If I am violently insane for years place me in an asylum at my expense. I have arranged for this contingency. But I have not great physical endurance; I do not think I shall suffer long. And then come rest" and peace. Good-by, my darling sister; make me, at last, a peaceful grave and come there sometimes, remembering me not as a lunatic but as the brother you played with in childhood, and who loved you with his last calm thought. Ralph Pomfret. The epistle was dated on the very day his fearful malady overtook him. I took the weeping girl in my arms. “Emma, he trusted; cannotyou? Will you let me try to make you happy?” She clung to me with sobbing breath, but I felt that it was not physical weakness nor even desolation which made her mine. I felt that she knew howT loved her for her goodness and purity—that she recognized die integrity I had striven to maintain, and loved me in return, Ral’s grave is peaceful. Willows shade it, mignonette blooms upon it, bees buzz above it, and the sunshine lingers longest there upon the hilltops. We love to go there and think the suffering is past lor him. My darling is happy. We have children and a bright apd beautiful home. The Pomfret skeleton has never intruded among us. “Was not her death quite sudden?” said a condoling friend to a bereaved 1 widower. “ Well, yes, rather, for her."