The Abbot\'s Ghost, Or Maurice Treherne\'s Temptation by A. M. Barnard
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A. M. Barnard >> The Abbot\'s Ghost, Or Maurice Treherne\'s Temptation
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It was Christmas Eve, and a dance in the great gallery was the yearly
festival at the abbey. All had been eager for it, but the maid's story
seemed to have lessened their enthusiasm, though no one would own it.
This annoyed Sir Jasper, and he exerted himself to clear the atmosphere
by affecting gaiety he did not feel. The moment the gentlemen came in
after dinner he whispered to his mother, who rose, asked the general for
his arm, and led the way to the north gallery, whence the sound of music
now proceeded. The rest followed in a merry procession, even Treherne,
for two footmen carried him up the great stairway, chair and all.
Nothing could look less ghostly now than the haunted gallery. Fires
roared up a wide chimney at either end, long rows of figures clad in
armor stood on each side, one mailed hand grasping a lance, the other
bearing a lighted candle, a device of Sir Jasper's. Narrow windows
pierced in the thick walls let in gleams of wintry moonlight; ivy,
holly, and evergreen glistened in the ruddy glow of mingled firelight
and candle shine. From the arched stone roof hung tattered banners, and
in the midst depended a great bunch of mistletoe. Red-cushioned seats
stood in recessed window nooks, and from behind a high-covered screen of
oak sounded the blithe air of Sir Roger de Coverley.
With the utmost gravity and stateliness my lady and the general led off
the dance, for, according to the good old fashion, the men and maids in
their best array joined the gentlefolk and danced with their betters in
a high state of pride and bashfulness. Sir Jasper twirled the old
housekeeper till her head spun around and around and her decorous skirts
rustled stormily; Mrs. Snowdon captivated the gray-haired butler by her
condescension; and John was made a proud man by the hand of his young
mistress. The major came out strong among the pretty maids, and Rose
danced the footmen out of breath long before the music paused.
The merriment increased from that moment, and when the general
surprised my lady by gallantly saluting her as she unconsciously stood
under the mistletoe, the applause was immense. Everyone followed the
old gentleman's example as fast as opportunities occurred, and the
young ladies soon had as fine a color as the housemaids. More dancing,
games, songs, and all manner of festival devices filled the evening,
yet under cover of the gaiety more than one little scene was enacted
that night, and in an hour of seeming frivolity the current of several
lives was changed.
By a skillful maneuver Annon led Octavia to an isolated recess, as if to
rest after a brisk game, and, taking advantage of the auspicious hour,
pleaded his suit. She heard him patiently and, when he paused, said
slowly, yet decidedly, and with no sign of maiden hesitation, "Thanks
for the honor you do me, but I cannot accept it, for I do not love you.
I think I never can."
"Have you tried?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes, indeed I have. I like you as a friend, but no more. I know Mamma
desires it, that Jasper hopes for it, and I try to please them, but love
will not be forced, so what can I do?" And she smiled in spite of
herself at her own blunt simplicity.
"No, but it can be cherished, strengthened, and in time won, with
patience and devotion. Let me try, Octavia; it is but fair, unless you
have already learned from another the lesson I hope to teach. Is it so?"
"No, I think not. I do not understand myself as yet, I am so young, and
this so sudden. Give me time, Frank."
She blushed and fluttered now, looked half angry, half beseeching, and
altogether lovely.
"How much time shall I give? It cannot take long to read a heart like
yours, dear." And fancying her emotion a propitious omen, he assumed the
lover in good earnest.
"Give me time till the New Year. I will answer then, and, meantime,
leave me free to study both myself and you. We have known each other
long, I own, but, still, this changes everything, and makes you seem
another person. Be patient, Frank, and I will try to make my duty a
pleasure."
"I will. God bless you for the kind hope, Octavia. It has been mine for
years, and if I lose it, it will go hardly with me."
Later in the evening General Snowdon stood examining the antique screen.
In many places carved oak was pierced quite through, so that voices were
audible from behind it. The musicians had gone down to supper, the young
folk were quietly busy at the other end of the hall, and as the old
gentleman admired the quaint carving, the sound of his own name caught
his ear. The housekeeper and butler still remained, though the other
servants had gone, and sitting cosily behind the screen chatted in low
tones believing themselves secure.
"It _was_ Mrs. Snowdon, Adam, as I'm a living woman, though I wouldn't
say it to anyone but you. She and Sir Jasper were here wrapped in
cloaks, and up to mischief, I'll be bound. She is a beauty, but I don't
envy her, and there'll be trouble in the house if she stays long."
"But how do you know, Mrs. Benson, she was here? Where's your proof,
mum?" asked the pompous butler.
"Look at this, and then look at the outlandish trimming of the lady's
dress. You men are so dull about such matters you'd never observe these
little points. Well, I was here first after Patty, and my light shone on
this jet ornament lying near where she saw the spirit. No one has any
such tasty trifles but Mrs. Snowdon, and these are all over her gown. If
that ain't proof, what is?"
"Well, admitting it, I then say what on earth should she and Master be
up here for, at such a time?" asked the slow-witted butler.
"Adam, we are old servants of the family, and to you I'll say what
tortures shouldn't draw from to another. Master has been wild, as you
know, and it's my belief that he loved this lady abroad. There was a
talk of some mystery, or misdeed, or misfortune, more than a year ago,
and she was in it. I'm loath to say it, but I think Master loves her
still, and she him. The general is an old man, she is but young, and so
spirited and winsome she can't in reason care for him as for a fine,
gallant gentleman like Sir Jasper. There's trouble brewing, Adam, mark
my words. There's trouble brewing for the Trehernes."
So low had the voices fallen that the listener could not have caught the
words had not his ear been strained to the utmost. He did hear all, and
his wasted face flashed with the wrath of a young man, then grew pale
and stern as he turned to watch his wife. She stood apart from the
others talking to Sir Jasper, who looked unusually handsome and debonair
as he fanned her with a devoted air.
Perhaps it is true, thought the old man bitterly. They are well matched,
were lovers once, no doubt, and long to be so again. Poor Edith, I was
very blind. And with his gray head bowed upon his breast the general
stole away, carrying an arrow in his brave old heart.
* * * * *
"Blanche, come here and rest, you will be ill tomorrow; and I promised
Mamma to take care of you." With which elder-sisterly command Rose led
the girl to an immense old chair, which held them both. "Now listen to
me and follow my advice, for I am wise in my generation, though not yet
gray. They are all busy, so leave them alone and let me show you what is
to be done."
Rose spoke softly, but with great resolution, and nodded her pretty head
so energetically that the holly berries came rolling over her white
shoulders.
"We are not as rich as we might be, and must establish ourselves as soon
and as well as possible. I intend to be Lady Treherne. You can be the
Honorable Mrs. Annon, if you give your mind to it."
"My dear child, are you mad?" whispered Blanche.
"Far from it, but you will be if you waste your time on Maurice. He is
poor, and a cripple, though very charming, I admit. He loves Tavie, and
she will marry him, I am sure. She can't endure Frank, but tries to
because my lady commands it. Nothing will come of it, so try your
fascinations and comfort the poor man; sympathy now will foster love
hereafter."
"Don't talk so here, Rose, someone will hear us," began her sister, but
the other broke in briskly.
"No fear, a crowd is the best place for secrets. Now remember what I
say, and make your game while the ball is rolling. Other people are
careful not to put their plans into words, but I'm no hypocrite, and say
plainly what I mean. Bear my sage counsel in mind and act wisely. Now
come and begin."
Treherne was sitting alone by one of the great fires, regarding the gay
scene with serious air. For him there was neither dancing nor games; he
could only roam about catching glimpses of forbidden pleasures,
impossible delights, and youthful hopes forever lost to him. Sad but not
morose was his face, and to Octavia it was a mute reproach which she
could not long resist. Coming up as if to warm herself, she spoke to him
in her usually frank and friendly way, and felt her heart beat fast when
she saw how swift a change her cordial manner wrought in him.
"How pretty your holly is! Do you remember how we used to go and gather
it for festivals like this, when we were happy children?" he asked,
looking up at her with eyes full of tender admiration.
"Yes, I remember. Everyone wears it tonight as a badge, but you have
none. Let me get you a bit, I like to have you one of us in all things."
She leaned forward to break a green sprig from the branch over the
chimneypiece; the strong draft drew in her fleecy skirt, and in an
instant she was enveloped in flames.
"Maurice, save me, help me!" cried a voice of fear and agony, and
before anyone could reach her, before he himself knew how the deed was
done, Treherne had thrown himself from his chair, wrapped the tiger
skin tightly about her, and knelt there clasping her in his arms
heedless of fire, pain, or the incoherent expressions of love that
broke from his lips.
Chapter VI
MIRACLES
Great was the confusion and alarm which reigned for many minutes, but
when the panic subsided two miracles appeared. Octavia was entirely
uninjured, and Treherne was standing on his feet, a thing which for
months he had not done without crutches. In the excitement of the
moment, no one observed the wonder; all were crowding about the girl,
who, pale and breathless but now self-possessed, was the first to
exclaim, pointing to her cousin, who had drawn himself up, with the
help of his chair, and leaned there smiling, with a face full of
intense delight.
"Look at Maurice! Oh, Jasper, help him or he'll fall!"
Sir Jasper sprung to his side and put a strong arm about him, while a
chorus of wonder, sympathy, and congratulations rose about them.
"Why, lad, what does it mean? Have you been deceiving us all this
time?" cried Jasper, as Treherne leaned on him, looking exhausted but
truly happy.
"It means that I am not to be a cripple all my life; that they did not
deceive me when they said a sudden shock might electrify me with a more
potent magnetism than any they could apply. It _has_, and if I am cured
I owe it all to you, Octavia."
He stretched his hands to her with a gesture of such passionate
gratitude that the girl covered her face to hide its traitorous
tenderness, and my lady went to him, saying brokenly, as she embraced
him with maternal warmth, "God bless you for this act, Maurice, and
reward you with a perfect cure. To you I owe the lives of both my
children; how can I thank you as I ought?"
"I dare not tell you yet," he whispered eagerly, then added, "I am
growing faint, Aunt. Get me away before I make a scene."
This hint recalled my lady to her usual state of dignified
self-possession. Bidding Jasper and the major help Treherne to his room
without delay, she begged Rose to comfort her sister, who was sobbing
hysterically, and as they all obeyed her, she led her daughter away to
her own apartment, for the festivities of the evening were at an end.
At the same time Mrs. Snowdon and Annon bade my lady good-night, as if
they also were about to retire, but as they reached the door of the
gallery Mrs. Snowdon paused and beckoned Annon back. They were alone
now, and, standing before the fire which had so nearly made that
Christmas Eve a tragical one, she turned to him with a face full of
interest and sympathy as she said, nodding toward the blackened shreds
of Octavia's dress, and the scorched tiger skin which still lay at their
feet, "That was both a fortunate and an unfortunate little affair, but I
fear Maurice's gain will be your loss. Pardon my frankness for Octavia's
sake; she is a fine creature, and I long to see her given to one worthy
of her. I am a woman to read faces quickly; I know that your suit does
not prosper as you would have it, and I desire to help you. May I?"
"Indeed you may, and command any service of me in return. But to what do
I owe this unexpected friendliness?" cried Annon, both grateful and
surprised.
"To my regard for the young lady, my wish to save her from an
unworthy man."
"Do you mean Treherne?" asked Annon, more and more amazed.
"I do. Octavia must not marry a gambler!"
"My dear lady, you labor under some mistake; Treherne is by no means a
gambler. I owe him no goodwill, but I cannot hear him slandered."
"You are generous, but I am not mistaken. Can you, on your honor, assure
me that Maurice never played?"
Mrs. Snowdon's keen eyes were on him, and he looked embarrassed for a
moment, but answered with some hesitation, "Why, no, I cannot say that,
but I can assure you that he is not an habitual gambler. All young men
of his rank play more or less, especially abroad. It is merely an
amusement with most, and among men is not considered dishonorable or
dangerous. Ladies think differently, I believe, at least in England."
At the word "abroad," Mrs. Snowdon's face brightened, and she suddenly
dropped her eyes, as if afraid of betraying some secret purpose.
"Indeed we do, and well we may, many of us having suffered from this
pernicious habit. I have had special cause to dread and condemn it, and
the fear that Octavia should in time suffer what I have suffered as a
girl urges me to interfere where otherwise I should be dumb. Mr. Annon,
there was a rumor that Maurice was forced to quit Paris, owing to some
dishonorable practices at the gaming table. Is this true?"
"Nay, don't ask me; upon my soul I cannot tell you. I only know that
something was amiss, but what I never learned. Various tales were
whispered at the clubs, and Sir Jasper indignantly denied them all. The
bravery with which Maurice saved his cousin, and the sad affliction
which fell upon him, silenced the gossip, and it was soon forgotten."
Mrs. Snowdon remained silent for a moment, with brows knit in deep
thought, while Annon uneasily watched her. Suddenly she glanced over her
shoulder, drew nearer, and whispered cautiously, "Did the rumors of
which you speak charge him with--" and the last word was breathed into
Annon's ear almost inaudibily.
He started, as if some new light broke on him, and stared at the speaker
with a troubled face for an instant, saying hastily, "No, but now you
remind me that when an affair of that sort was discussed the other day
Treherne looked very odd, and rolled himself away, as if it didn't
interest him. I can't believe it, and yet it may be something of the
kind. That would account for old Sir Jasper's whim, and Treherne's
steady denial of any knowledge of the cause. How in heaven's name did
you learn this?"
"My woman's wit suggested it, and my woman's will shall confirm or
destroy the suspicion. My lady and Octavia evidently know nothing, but
they shall if there is any danger of the girl's being won by him."
"You would not tell her!" exclaimed Annon.
"I will, unless you do it" was the firm answer.
"Never! To betray a friend, even to gain the woman I love, is a thing I
cannot do; my honor forbids it."
Mrs. Snowdon smiled scornfully.
"Men's code of honor is a strong one, and we poor women suffer from it.
Leave this to me; do your best, and if all other means fail, you may be
glad to try my device to prevent Maurice from marrying his cousin.
Gratitude and pity are strong allies, and if he recovers, his strong
will will move heaven and earth to gain her. Good night." And leaving
her last words to rankle in Annon's mind, Mrs. Snowdon departed to
endure sleepless hours full of tormenting memories, newborn hopes, and
alternations of determination and despair.
Treherne's prospect of recovery filled the whole house with delight, for
his patient courage and unfailing cheerfulness had endeared him to all.
It was no transient amendment, for day by day he steadily gained
strength and power, passing rapidly from chair to crutches, from
crutches to a cane and a friend's arm, which was always ready for him.
Pain returned with returning vitality, but he bore it with a fortitude
that touched all who witnessed it. At times motion was torture, yet
motion was necessary lest the torpidity should return, and Treherne took
his daily exercise with unfailing perseverance, saying with a smile,
though great drops stood upon his forehead, "I have something dearer
even than health to win. Hold me up, Jasper, and let me stagger on, in
spite of everything, till my twelve turns are made."
He remembered Lady Treherne's words, "If you were well, I'd gladly give
my girl to you." This inspired him with strength, endurance, and a
happiness which could not be concealed. It overflowed in looks, words,
and acts; it infected everyone, and made these holidays the blithest the
old abbey had seen for many a day.
Annon devoted himself to Octavia, and in spite of her command to be left
in peace till the New Year, she was very kind--so kind that hope flamed
up in his heart, though he saw that something like compassion often
shone on him from her frank eyes, and her compliance had no touch of the
tender docility which lovers long to see. She still avoided Treherne,
but so skillfully that few observed the change but Annon and himself. In
public Sir Jasper appeared to worship at the sprightly Rose's shrine,
and she fancied her game was prospering well.
But had any one peeped behind the scenes it would have been discovered
that during the half hour before dinner, when everyone was in their
dressing rooms and the general taking his nap, a pair of ghostly black
figures flitted about the haunted gallery, where no servant ventured
without orders. The major fancied himself the only one who had made this
discovery, for Mrs. Snowdon affected Treherne's society in public, and
was assiduous in serving and amusing the "dear convalescent," as she
called him. But the general did not sleep; he too watched and waited,
longing yet dreading to speak, and hoping that this was but a harmless
freak of Edith's, for her caprices were many, and till now he had
indulged them freely. This hesitation disgusted the major, who, being a
bachelor, knew little of women's ways, and less of their powers of
persuasion. The day before New Year he took a sudden resolution, and
demanded a private interview with the general.
"I have come on an unpleasant errand, sir," he abruptly began, as the
old man received him with an expression which rather daunted the major.
"My friendship for Lady Treherne, and my guardianship of her children,
makes me jealous of the honor of the family. I fear it is in danger,
sir; pardon me for saying it, but your wife is the cause."
"May I trouble you to explain, Major Royston" was all the general's
reply, as his old face grew stern and haughty.
"I will, sir, briefly. I happen to know from Jasper that there were love
passages between Miss Dubarry and himself a year or more ago in Paris. A
whim parted them, and she married. So far no reproach rests upon either,
but since she came here it has been evident to others as well as myself
that Jasper's affection has revived, and that Mrs. Snowdon does not
reject and reprove it as she should. They often meet, and from Jasper's
manner I am convinced that mischief is afloat. He is ardent, headstrong,
and utterly regardless of the world's opinion in some cases. I have
watched them, and what I tell you is true."
"Prove it."
"I will. They meet in the north gallery, wrapped in dark cloaks, and
play ghost if anyone comes. I concealed myself behind the screen last
evening at dusk, and satisfied myself that my suspicions were correct. I
heard little of their conversation, but that little was enough."
"Repeat it, if you please."
"Sir Jasper seemed pleading for some promise which she reluctantly gave,
saying, 'While you live I will be true to my word with everyone but him.
He will suspect, and it will be useless to keep it from him.'
"'He will shoot me for this if he knows I am the traitor,'
expostulated Jasper.
"'He shall not know that; I can hoodwink him easily, and serve my
purpose also.'
"'You are mysterious, but I leave all to you and wait for my reward.
When shall I have it, Edith?' She laughed, and answered so low I could
not hear, for they left the gallery as they spoke. Forgive me, General,
for the pain I inflict. You are the only person to whom I have spoken,
and you are the only person who can properly and promptly prevent this
affair from bringing open shame and scandal on an honorable house. To
you I leave it, and will do my part with this infatuated young man if
you will withdraw the temptation which will ruin him."
"I will. Thank you, Major. Trust to me, and by tomorrow I will prove
that I can act as becomes me."
The grief and misery in the general's face touched the major; he
silently wrung his hand and went away, thanking heaven more fervently
than ever that no cursed coquette of a woman had it in her power to
break his heart.
While this scene was going on above, another was taking place in the
library. Treherne sat there alone, thinking happy thoughts evidently,
for his eyes shone and his lips smiled as he mused, while watching the
splendors of a winter sunset. A soft rustle and the faint scent of
violets warned him of Mrs. Snowdon's approach, and a sudden foreboding
told him that danger was near. The instant he saw her face his fear
was confirmed, for exultation, resolve, and love met and mingled in
the expression it wore. Leaning in the window recess, where the red
light shone full on her lovely face and queenly figure, she said,
softly yet with a ruthless accent below the softness, "Dreaming
dreams, Maurice, which will never come to pass, unless I will it. I
know your secret, and I shall use it to prevent the fulfillment of the
foolish hope you cherish."
"Who told you?" he demanded, with an almost fierce flash of the eye and
an angry flush.
"I discovered it, as I warned you I should. My memory is good, I recall
the gossip of long ago, I observe the faces, words, and acts of those
whom I suspect, and unconscious hints from them give me the truth."
"I doubt it," and Treherne smiled securely.
She stooped and whispered one short sentence into his ear. Whatever it
was it caused him to start up with a pale, panic-stricken face, and eye
her as if she had pronounced his doom.
"Do you doubt it now?" she asked coldly.
"He told you! Even your skill and craft could not discover it alone,"
he muttered.
"Nay, I told you nothing was impossible to a determined woman. I needed
no help, for I knew more than you think."
He sank down again in a despairing attitude and hid his face, saying
mournfully, "I might have known you would hunt me down and dash my hopes
when they were surest. How will you use this unhappy secret?"
"I will tell Octavia, and make her duty less hard. It will be kind to
both of you, for even with her this memory would mar your happiness; and
it saves her from the shame and grief of discovering, when too late,
that she has given herself to a--"
"Stop!" he cried, in a tone that made her start and pale, as he rose out
of his chair white with a stern indignation which awed her for a moment.
"You shall not utter that word--you know but half the truth, and if you
wrong me or trouble the girl I will turn traitor also, and tell the
general the game you are playing with my cousin. You feign to love me as
you feigned before, but his title is the bait now as then, and you fancy
that by threatening to mar my hopes you will secure my silence, and gain
your end."
"Wrong, quite wrong. Jasper is nothing to me; I use _him_ as a tool, not
you. If I threaten, it is to keep you from Octavia, who cannot forgive
the past and love you for yourself, as I have done all these miserable
months. You say I know but half the truth. Tell me the whole and I will
spare you."
If ever a man was tempted to betray a trust it was Treherne then. A
word, and Octavia might be his; silence, and she might be lost; for this
woman was in earnest, and possessed the power to ruin his good name
forever. The truth leaped to his lips and would have passed them, had
not his eye fallen on the portrait of Jasper's father. This man had
loved and sheltered the orphan all his life, had made of him a son, and,
dying, urged him to guard and serve and save the rebellious youth he
left, when most needing a father's care.
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