 Chapter 7 of the Abbot's Ghost. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Ferguson. The Abbot's Ghost or Maurice Trahearne's Temptation by Louisa May Alcott. A Ghostly Rebel. "'Bless me how dull we are to-night,' exclaimed Rose, as the younger portion of the party wandered listlessly about the drawing-rooms that evening, while my lady and the Major played an absorbing game of piquette, and the General Doe is peacefully at last. "'It is because Maurice is not here. He always keeps us going, for he's a fellow of infinite resources,' replied Sir Jasper, suppressing a yawn. "'Have him out, then,' said Anon. He won't come. The poor lad is blue to-night, in spite of his improvement. Something is amiss, and there is no getting a word from him.' Sad memories afflict him, perhaps.' Side-blanch. "'Don't be absurd, dear. Sad memories are all nonsense. Mellon Collie is always in digestion, and nothing is so sure or cure as fun,' said Rose bristly. "'I'm going to send in a polite invitation begging him to come and amuse us. Till accept, I haven't a doubt.' The message was sent, but to Rose's chagrin a polite refusal was returned. "'He shall come. Sir Jasper, do you and Mr. Anon go as a deputation from us, and return without him at your peril?' was her command. They went, and while waiting there a reappearance the sisters spoke of what all had observed. How lovely Mrs. Snowden looks to-night. I always thought she owed half her charms to her skill in dress, but she never looked so beautiful as in that plain black silk with those roses in her hair,' said Rose. "'What has she done to herself?' replied Blanche. "'I see a change, but can't account for it. She and Tavi have made some beautifying discovery, for both look altogether uplifted and angelic all of a sudden.' "'Here come the gentleman, and as I'm at Talbot they haven't got him,' cried Rose as the deputation appeared, looking very crestfallen. "'Don't come near me,' she added eerily. "'You are disloyal cowards, and I doom you to exile till I want you. I am infinite in resources as well as this recreant man, and come he shall. Mrs. Snowden, would you mind asking Mr. Tohearn to suggest something to wile away the rest of this evening? We are in despair, and can think of nothing, and you are all powerful with him.' "'I must decline, since he refuses you,' was the decided answer, as Mrs. Snowden moved away. "'Tavi dear, do go, we must have him. He always obeys you, and you would be such a public benefactor, you know.' Without a word Octavia wrote a line, and sent it by a servant. Several minutes passed, and the gentleman began to lay wages on the success of her trial. "'He will not come for me, you may be sure,' said Octavia. As the words passed her lips he appeared. A general laugh greeted him, but taking no notice of the jests at his expense, he turned to Octavia, saying quietly, "'What can I do for you, cousin?' His colourless face and weary eyes reproached her for disturbing him, but it was too late for regret, and she answered hastily, "'We are in want of some new and amusing occupation, to wile away the evening. Can you suggest something appropriate?' "'Why not sit round the hall-fire and tell stories, while we wait to see the old year out, as we used to long ago?' he asked, after a moment's thought. "'I'd told you so, there it is, just what we want, and suggest we look triumphant.' "'It's capital, let us begin at once. It is after ten now, so we shall not have long to wait,' cried Rose, and taking suggest's arm she led the way to the hall. A great fire always burned there, and in wintertime thick carpets and curtains covered the stone floor and draped the tall windows. Plants blossomed in the warm atmosphere, and chairs and lounges stood about invitingly. The party was soon seated, and Trahearn was desired to begin. "'We must have ghost stories, and in order to be properly thrilling and effective, the lights must be put out,' said Rose, who sat next to him and spoke first, as usual. This was soon done, and only a ruddy circle of fire-light was left to oppose the raptched gloom that filled the hall, where shadows now seemed to lurk in every corner. "'Don't be very dreadful, or I shall faint away,' pleaded Blanche, drawing nearer to a non, for she had taken her sister's advice and laid close siege to that gentleman's heart. "'I think your nerves will bear my little tail,' replied Trahearn. "'When I was in India four years ago, I had a very dear friend in my regiment—a Scotchman—I'm half Scotch myself, you know, and Clanish, of course. Gordon was sent up country on a scouting expedition and never returned. His men reported that he left them one evening to take a survey, and his horse came home bloody and ridellous. We searched, but could not find a trace of him, and I was desperate to discover and avenge his murder. About a month after his disappearance, as I sat in my tent one fearfully hot day, suddenly the canvas-door flap was raised and there stood Gordon. I saw him as plainly as I see you, Jasper, and should have sprung to meet him, but something held me back. He was deathly pale, dripping with water, and in his bony blue eyes was a wild, woeful look that made my blood run cold. I stared dumbly, for it was awful to see my friend so changed and so unearthly. Stretching his arm to me, he took my hand, saying solemnly, Come! The touch was like ice, and ominous thrill ran through me. I started up to a bay, and he was gone. A horrid dream, of course! Is that all? asked Rose. With his eyes on the fire, and his left hand half extended, Trehearn went on as if he had not heard her. I thought it was a fancy, and soon recovered myself, for no one had seen or heard anything of Gordon, and my native servant lay just outside my tent. A strange sensation remained in the hand the phantom touched. It was cold, damp, and white. I found it vain to try to forget this apparition. It took strong hold of me. I told Yermid, my man, and he bade me consider it a sign, that I was to seek my friend. Often night I dreamed I was riding up the country in hot haste. What led me, I know not, but I pressed on and on, longing to reach the end. A half-dried river crossed my path, and riding down the steep bank to for it, I saw Gordon's body, lying in the shallow water, looking exactly as the vision looked. I woke in a strange mood, told the story to my commanding officer, and as nothing was doing just then, easily got leave of absence for a week. Seeing Yermid I set out on my sad quest. I thought it folly, but I could not resist the impulse that drew me on. For seven days I searched, and the strangest part of the story is that all that time I went on exactly as in the dream, seeing what I saw then, and led by the touch of a cold hand on mine. On the seventh day I reached the river, and found my friend's body. How horrible! Is it really true?" cried Mrs. Snowden. As true as I am a living man, nor is that all, this left hand of mine never has been warm since that time, see and feel for yourselves. He opened both hands, and all satisfied themselves that the left was smaller, paler and colder than the right. Pray some one tell another story to put this out of my mind, it makes me nervous," said Blanche. I'll tell one, and you may laugh to quiet your nerves. I want to have mine done with, so that I can enjoy the rest with a free mind." With these words rose began her tale in the good old fashion. Once upon a time, when we were paying a visit to my blessed grand-mama, I saw a ghost in this wise. The dear old lady was ill with a cold, and kept her room leaving us to mow, for it was very dull in the great lonely house. Blanche and I were both homesick, but didn't like to leave till she was better, so we ransacked the library and solaced ourselves with all manner of queer books. One day I found grand-mama very low and nervous, and evidently with something on her mind. She would say nothing, but the next day was worse, and I insisted on knowing the cause, for the trouble was evidently mental. Charging me to keep it from Blanche, who was, and is, a sad coward, she told me that a spirit had appeared to her two successive nights. "'If it comes a third time, I shall prepare to die,' said the foolish old lady. "'No, you won't, for I'll come and stay with you and lay your ghost,' I said. With some difficulty I made her yield, and after Blanche was asleep I slipped away to grand-mama, with a book and a candle for a long watch, as the spirit didn't appear till after midnight. She usually slept with her door unlocked, in case of fire or fright, and her maid was close by. That night I locked the door, telling her that spirits could come through the oak if they chose, and I preferred to have a fair trial. Well, I read, and chatted, and dozed till dawn, and nothing appeared. So I laughed at the whole affair, and the old lady pretended to be convinced that it was all a fancy. Next night I slept in my own room, and in the morning was told that not only grand-mama, but Janet had seen the spirit, all in white with streaming hair, a pale face and a red streak at the throat. It came, and parted the bed curtains, looked in a moment, and then vanished. Janet had slept with grand-mama, and kept a lamp burning on the chimney, so both saw it. I was puzzled but not frightened, I never am, and I insisted on trying again. The door was left unlocked, as on the previous night, and I lay with grand-mama, a light burning as before. About two she clutched me as I was dropping off. I looked, and there, peeping in between the dark curtains, was a pale face with long hair all about it, and a red streak at the throat. It was very dim, the light being low, but I saw it, and after one breathless minute, spraying up, caught my foot, fell down with a crash and by the time I was around the bed not a vestige of the thing appeared. I was angry and vowed I'd succeed at all hazards, though I'll confess I was just a bit daunted. Next time Janet and I sat up in easy-chairs, with bright lights burning and both wide awake with the strongest coffee we could make. As the hour drew near we got nervous, and when the white shape came gliding in, Janet hit her face. I didn't, and after one look was on the point of laughing, for the spirit was blanched walking in her sleep. She wore a coral necklace in those days, and never took it off, and her long hair half hit her face, which had the unnatural uncanny look some namueless always wear. I had the sense to keep still, and tell Janet what to do, so the poor child went back un-waked, and Grandma Ma's spirit never walked again, for I took care of that. Why did you haunt the old lady? asked Anon, as the laugh deceased. I don't know, unless it was that I wanted to ask leave to go home, and was afraid to do it awake, so tried when asleep. I shall not tell any story, as I was the heroine of this, but will give my turn to you, Mr. Anon, said Blanche with a soft glance which was quite thrown away, for the gentleman's eyes were fixed on Octavia, who sat on a low ottoman at Mrs. Snowden's feet in the full glow of the fire-light. I've had very small experience in ghosts, and can only recall a little fright I once had when a boy at college. I'd been out to a party, got home tired, couldn't find my mattress and retired in the dark. Toward morning I woke, and glancing up to see if the dim light was dawn or moonshine, I was horrified to see a coffin standing at the bed's foot. I rubbed my eyes to be sure I was awake, and looked with all my might. There it was, a long, black coffin, and I saw the white plate in the dusk, for the moon was setting and my curtain was not drawn. It's some trick of the fellows, I thought. I'll not betray myself, but keep cool. Easy to say, but hard to do, for it suddenly flashed into my mind that I might be in the wrong room. I glanced about, but there were the familiar objects as usual, as far as the indistinct light allowed me to see, and I made sure by feeling on the wall at the bed's head, for my watch case, it was there and mine beyond a doubt, being peculiar in shape and fabric. Had I been to a college wine-party I could have accounted for the vision, but a quiet evening in a grave Professor's well-conductored family could produce no ill effects. It's an optical illusion, or a prank of my mates. I'll sleep and forget it, I said, and for a time endeavoured to do so. But curiosity overcame my resolve, and soon I peeped again. Judge of my horror when I saw the sharp white outline of a dead face, which seemed to be peeping up from the coffin. It gave me a terrible shock, for I was but a lad and had been ill. I hid my face and quaked like a nervous girl. Still thinking of some joke, and too proud to betray fear, lest I should be laughed at. How long I lay there, I don't know. But when I looked again the face was farther out and the whole figure seemed rising slowly. The moon was nearly down. I had no lamp, and to be left in the dark with that awesome thing was more than I could bear. Joke or honest I must end the panic, and bolting out of my room I roused my neighbour. He told me I was mad or drunk, but little lamp and returned with me. To find my horror, only a heap of clothes thrown on the table in such a way that, as the moon's pale light shot it, it struck upon my black student's gown with a white card lying on it, and produced the effect of a coffin and plate. The face was a crumpled handkerchief, and what seemed here a brown muffler. As the moon sank these outlines changed, and, incredible as it may seem, grew like a face. My friend, not having had the fright, enjoyed the joke, and coffins was my sobriker for a long while. You get worse and worse! Sir Jasper, do vary the horrors by a touch of fun, or I shall run away," said Blanche, glancing over her shoulder nervously. I'll do my best and tell a story my uncle used to relate, of his young days. I forget the name of the place, but it was some little country town, famous among anglers. My uncle often went to fish, and always regretted that a deserted house near the trout stream was not occupied, for the inn was inconveniently distant. Speaking of this one evening as he lounged at the landlady's parlour, he asked why no one took it and let the rooms to strangers in the fishing season. For fear of ghostesses, your honour, replied the woman, and proceeded to tell him that three distinct spirits haunted the house. In the garret was heard the hum of a wheel and the tap of high-heeled shoes, as the ghostly spinner went to and fro. In a chamber sounded the sharpening of a knife followed by groans and the drip of blood. The cellar was made awful by a skeleton sitting on a half-buried box and chuckling fiendishly. It seems a miser lived there once, and was believed to have starved his daughter in the garret, keeping her at work till she died. The second spirit was that of the girl's rejected lover, who cut his throat in the chamber, and the third of the miser who was found dead on the money-chest he was too feeble to conceal. My uncle laughed at all this and offered to lay the ghost if anyone would take the house. This offer got abroad, and a crusty old fellow accepted it, hoping to turn a penny. He had a pretty girl whose love had been floated by the old man, and whose lover was going to see in despair. My uncle knew this and pitted the young people. He had made acquaintances with a wandering artist, and the two agreed to conquer the prejudice against the house by taking rooms there. They did so, and after satisfying themselves regarding the noises, consulted a wise old woman as the best means of laying the ghost. She told them, if any young girl would pass a night in each haunted room praying piously the while, that all would be well. Peggy was asked if she would do it, and being a stout heart at last she consented, for a round sum to try it. The first night was in the garret, and Peggy, in spite of the prophecies of the village gossips, came out alive, though listeners at the door heard the weird humming and tapping all night long. The next night all went well, and from that time no more sharpening, groaning, or dripping was heard. The third time she bade her friends goodbye, and wrapped in her red cloak with a lamp and a prayer-book went down into the cellar. Alas for pretty Peggy! When day came she was gone, and with her miser's empty box, though his bones remained to prove how well she had done her work. The town was in an uproar and the old man furious. Some said the devil had flown away with her, others that the bones were hers, and all agreed that henceforth another ghost would haunt the house. My uncle and the artist did their best to comfort the father, who sorely reproached himself for thwarting the girl's love, and declared that if Jack would find her he should have her. But Jack had sailed, and the old man was left lamenting. The house was freed from its unearthly visitors, however, for no ghost appeared, and when my uncle left, old Martin found money and letter informing him that Peggy had spent her first two nights preparing for flight, and on the third had gone away to marry and sail with Jack. The noises had been produced by the artist, who was a ventriloquist, the skeleton had been smuggled from the surgeons, and the whole thing was a conspiracy to help Peggy in accommodate the fisherman. It is evident that Rogary is hereditary, laughed Rose as the narrator paused. I strongly suspect that Sir Jasper II was the true hero of that story, added Mrs. Snowden. Think what you like, I've done my part, and leave the stage for you, madam. I will come last, it is your turn, dear. As Mrs. Snowden softly uttered the last word, and Octavia leaned upon her knee with an affectionate glance, Trahearne leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the two changed faces, and looked as if bewildered when both smiled at him as they sat hand in hand while the girl told her story. Long ago a famous actress suddenly dropped dead at the clothes of a splendidly played tragedy. She was carried home and preparations were made to bury her. The play had been gotten up with great care and expense, and a fine actor was the hero. The public demanded a repetition, and an inferior person was engaged to take the dead lady's part. A day's delay had been necessary, but when the night came the house was crowded. The wait had both before and behind the curtain for the debut of the new actress, with much curiosity. She stood waiting for her cue, but as it was given to the amazement of all, the great tragedy glided upon the stage. Pale as marble, as with the strange fire in her eyes, strange pathos in her voice, strange power in her acting, she went through her part, and at the clothes vanished as mysteriously as she came. Great was the excitement that night, and intense the astonishment and horror next day when it was whispered abroad that the dead woman never had revived, but had lain in her coffin before the eyes of watchers all the evening when hundreds fancied they were applauding her at the theatre. The mystery never was cleared up, and Paris was divided by two opinions, one that some person, marvellously like Madame Z, had personated her for the sake of a sensation, the other that the ghost of the dead actress, unable to free itself from the old duties so full of fascination to an ambitious and successful woman, had played for the last time the part which had made her famous. Where did you find that, Tavi? It's a very French, and not bad if you invented it," said Sir Jasper. I read it in an old book, where it was much better told. Now Edith, there is just time for your tale. As the word Edith passed her lips, a gain through her and started, and eyed them both, and again they smiled as Mrs Snowden crest the smooth cheek leaning on her knee, and looking full at him began the last recital. You have been recounting the pranks of imaginary ghosts, let me show you the workings of some real spirits, evil and good, that haunt every heart and home making its misery or joy. At Christmas time, in a country house, a party of friends met to keep the holidays, and very happily they might have done so, had not one person marred the peace of several. Love, jealousy, deceit, and nobleness were the spirits that played their freaks with these people. The person of whom I speak was more haunted than the rest, than much tormented, being willful, proud, and jealous. Heaven help her she had no one to exercise these ghosts for her, and they goaded her to do much harm. Among these friends there were more than one pair of lovers, and much tangling of plots and plans for hearts are wayward and mysterious things, and cannot love as duty bids or prudence councils. This woman held the key to all the secrets of the house, and having a purpose to gain, she used her power selfishly for a time. To satisfy a doubt she feigned a fancy for a gentleman who once did her the honour of admiring her, and to the great scandal of certain sage persons permitted him to show his regard for her, knowing that it was but a transient amusement on his part as well as upon hers. In the hands of this woman lay a secret which could make or mar the happiness of the best and dearest of the party. The evil spirits which haunted her urged her to mar their peace and gratify a sinful hope. On the other side honour, justice, and generosity prompted her to make them happy, and while she wavered there came to her a sweet enchantress, who, with a word, banished the tormenting ghost forever, and gave the haunted woman a talisman to keep her free henceforth. There the earnest voice faltered, and with a sudden impulse Mrs. Snowden bent her head, and kissed the fair forehead which had bent lower and lower as she went on. Each listener understood the truth lightly veiled in that hasty fable, and each found in it a different meaning. So Jasper frowned and bit his lips, an on-gland st anxiously from face to face. Octavia hid hers, and Trehernce flashed with sudden intelligence, while Rose laughed low to herself, enjoying the scene. Blanche, who was getting sleepy, said with a stifled gape, That is a very nice, moral little story, but I wish there had been some real ghosts in it. There was. Will you come and see them? As she put the question, Mrs. Snowden rose abruptly, wishing to end the seance, and beckoning them to follow glided up the great stairway. All obeyed, wondering what whim possessed her, and quite ready for any jest in store for them. CHAPTER VIII. Jasper. She led them to the north gallery, and pausing at the door said merrily, the ghost, or ghost-rather, for there were two, which frightened Patti, where Sir Jasper and myself meeting to discuss certain important matters which concerned Mr. Trehern. If you want to see spirits, we will play phantom for you and convince you of our power. Good, let us go and have a ghostly dance as a proper finale of our revel, answered Rose as they flocked into the long hall. At that moment the great clock struck twelve, and all paused to bid the old year adieu. Sir Jasper was the first to speak. IV. Angry with Mrs. Snowden, yet thankful to her for making a jest to others of what had been earnest to him, he desired to hide his chagrin under a gay manor, and taking Rose around the waist was about to waltz away as she proposed, saying cheerly, come one and all and dance the new year in, when a cry from Octavia arrested him, and, turning, he saw her stand, pale and trembling, pointing to the far end of the hall. Eight narrow gothic windows pierced either wall of the north gallery. A full moon sent her silvery light strongly in upon the eastern side, making broad bars of brightness across the floor. No fires burned there now, and wherever the moonlight did not fall, deep shadows lay. As Octavia cried out, all looked, and all distinctly saw a tall, dark figure moving noiselessly across the second bar of light far down the hall. Is it some jest of yours, said Sir Jasper, of Mrs. Snowden, as the form vanished in the shadows? No, upon my honor, I know nothing of it. I only meant to relieve Octavia's superstitious fears by showing her our pranks, was the whispered reply as Mrs. Snowden's cheek paled, and she drew nearer to Jasper. Who is there, called Traherne, in a commanding tone? No answer, but a faint cold breath of air seemed to sigh along the arched roof and die away as the dark figure crossed the third streak of moonlight. A strange awe fell upon them all, and no one spoke, but stood watching for the appearance of the shape. Nearer and nearer it came, with soundless steps, and as it reached the sixth window its outlines were distinctly visible, a tall, wasted figure, all in black, with a rosary hanging from the girdle, and a dark beard half concealing the face. The abbot's ghost, and very well, got up, said Anon, trying to laugh, but failing decidedly, for again the cold breath swept over them, causing a general shudder. Hush whispered her hand, drawing Octavia to his side with a protecting gesture. Once more the phantom appeared and disappeared, and as they waited for it to cross the last bar of light that lay between it and them, Mrs. Snowden stepped forward to the edge of the shadow in which they stood, as if to confront the apparition alone. Out of the darkness it came, and then the full radiance of the light it paused. Mrs. Snowden, being nearest, saw the face burst, and uttering a faint cry dropped down upon the stone floor, covering up her eyes. Nothing human ever wore a look like that of the ghastly, hallowed, pale-lipped countenance below the hood. All saw it, and held their breath, as it slowly raised a shadowy arm and pointed a shriveled finger at Sir Jasper. Speak whatever you are, or I'll quickly prove whether you are a man or spirit, cried Jasper fiercely, stepping forward as if to grasp the extended arm that seemed to menace him alone. An icy gust swept through the hall, and the phantom slowly receded into the shadow. Jasper sprang after it, but nothing crossed a second stream of light, and nothing remained in the shade. Like one possessed by a sudden fancy, he rushed down the gallery to find all fast and empty, and to return looking very strangely. Blanche had fainted away, and Anon was bearing her out of the hall. Rose was clinging to Mrs. Snowden, and Octavia leaned against her cousin, saying in a fervent whisper, Thank God it did not point at you. Am I then dearer than your brother, he whispered back. There was no audible reply, but one little hand involuntarily pressed his, though the other was outstretched towards Jasper, who came up white and startled but firm and quiet. Affecting to make light of it, he said, forcing a smile as he raised Mrs. Snowden, it is some stupid joke of the servants. Let us think no more of it. Come, Edith, this is not like your usual self. It was nothing human, Jasper. You know it as well as I. Oh, why did I bring you here to meet the warning phantom that haunts your house? Nay, if my time is near, the spirit would have found me out wherever I might be. I have no faith in that absurd superstition I laugh at and defy it. Come down and drink my health and wine from the abbot's own cellar. But no one had heart for further gaiety. When finding Lady Traherne, already alarmed by a non, they were forced to tell her all and find their own bewilderment deepened by her unalterable belief in the evil omen. At her command the house was searched, the servants crossed question, and every effort made to discover the identity of the apparition. All in vain the house was as usual, and not a man or maid but turned pale at the idea of entering the gallery at midnight. My lady's request all promised to say no more upon the mystery and separated at last to such sleep as they could enjoy. Very grave were the faces gathered about the breakfast table next morning, and very anxious the glances cast on Sir Jasper as he came in, late as usual, looking uncommonly blithe and well. Nothing serious ever made a deep impression on his mercurial nature. Traherne had more of the air of a doomed man, being very pale and worn, in spite of an occasional gleam of happiness as he looked at Octavia. He haunted Jasper like a shadow all the morning, much to that young gentleman's annoyance, for both his mother and sister hung about him with faces of ill-dissembled anxiety. By afternoon his patience gave out, and he openly rebelled against the tender guard kept over him. Ringing for his horse he said decidedly, I'm bored to death, the solemnity which pervades the house today, so I'm all for a brisk gallop before I lose my temper and spirits all together. Come with me in the pony carriage, Jasper. I've not had a drive with you for a long while and should enjoy it so much, said my lady, detaining him. Mrs. Snowden looks as if she needed air to revive her roses, and the pony carriage is just the thing for her, so I will cheerfully resign my seat to her. He answered, laughing, as he forced himself from his mother's hand. Take the girls and the Clarence. We all want a breath of air, and you are the best whip we know. Be gallant and say yes, dear. No thank you, Tavi. That won't do. Rose and Blanche are both asleep, and you are dying to go and do likewise after your vigils last night. As a man and a brother, I beg you'll do so, and let me ride as I like. Suppose you ask Anand to join you, began Trehan, with well assumed indifference, but Sir Jasper frowned and turned sharply on him, saying half petulantly, half joccusly, upon my life I should think I was a boy or a baby, by the manner in which you mount guard over me today. If you think I'm going to live in daily fear of some mishap, you are all much mistaken. Ghost or no ghost, I shall make merry while I can. A short life and a jolly one has always been my motto, you know, so fare you well till dinner time. They watched him gallop down the avenue, and then went their different ways, still burdened with a nameless foreboding. I was strolled into the conservatory, thinking to refresh herself with the balmy silence which pervaded the place, but Anand soon joined her, full of a lover's hopes and fears. Mr. Trehan, I have ventured to come for my answer. Is my new year to be blissful or a sad one? He asked eagerly, Forgive me if I give you an unwelcome reply, but I must be true, and so regretfully refuse the honor you do me, she said sorrowfully. May I ask why? Because I do not love you. And you do love your cousin, he cried angrily, pausing to watch her half averted face. So turned it fully toward him, and answered with her native sincerity, Yes I do, with all my heart, and now my mother will not thwart me, for Maurice has saved my life, and I am free to vote it all to him. Happy man, I wish I had been a cripple, cried Anand, then with a manful effort to be just and generous, he added heartily. May no more he deserved you, I want no sacrifice to duty, I yield, and go away, praying heaven to bless you now and always. He kissed her hand, and left her to seek my lady, and make his adoose, for no persuasion could keep him. Leaving a note for Sir Jasper, he hurried away to the great relief of Trehan and the deep regret of Blanche, who, however, lived in hopes of another trial later in the season. Here comes Jasper, mama, safe and well, cried Octavia an hour or two later, as she joined her mother on the terrace, where my lady had been pacing restlessly to and fro nearly ever since her son rode away. With a smile of intense relief, she waved her handkerchief, as he came clattering up the drive, and seeing her, he answered with hat in hand. He usually dismounted at the great hall door, but a sudden whim made him ride along the wall that lay below the terrace, for he was a fine horseman, and Mrs. Snowden was looking from her window. As he approached, the peacocks fled screaming, and one flew up just before the horse's eyes as his master was in the act of dismounting. Spirited creature was startled, sprang partway up the low, broad steps of the terrace, and being sharply checked, slipped, fell, and man and horse rolled down together. Never did those who heard it forget the cry that left Lady Treheran's lips as she saw the fall. It brought out both guests and servants to find Octavia recklessly struggling with a frightened horse, and my lady down upon the steps with her son's bleeding head in her arms. They bore in the senseless, shattered body, and for hours tried everything that skill and sciences could devise to save the young man's life, but every effort was in vain, and as the sun set, Sir Jasper lay dying, conscious at last, and able to speak, he looked about him with a troubled glance, and seemed struggling with some desire that overmastered pain and held death at bay. I want more Reese, he feebly said at length. Dear lad, I am here, answered his cousin's voice from a seat in the shadow of the half-drawn curtains. Always near when I need you, many a scrape have you helped me out of, but this is beyond your power, and a faint smile passed over Jasper's lips as the past flooded before his mind, but the smile died, and a groan of pain escaped him as he cried suddenly quick. Let me tell it before it is too late. Reese never will, but bear the shame all his life that my dead name may be untarnished. Bringing Edith, she must hear the truth. She was soon there, and lying in his mother's arms, one hand in his cousin's, and one on his sister's bent head. Jasper rapidly told the secret which had burdened him for a year. I did it. I remember my uncle's name when I had lost so heavily at play that I dared not tell my mother or squander more of my own fortune. I deceived Maurice, and let him think the check a genuine one. I made him present it and get the money, and when all went well, I fancied I was safe, but my uncle discovered it secretly and said nothing, and believing Maurice the forger disinherited him. I never knew this till the old man died, and then it was too late. I confessed to Maurice, and he forgave me. He said, I am helpless now, shut out from the world, with nothing to lose or gain, and soon to be forgotten by those who once knew me. So let the suspicion of shame, if any such there be, still cling to me, and do you go your way, rich, happy, honorable, and untouched by any shadow on your fame. Mother, I let him do it, unconscious as he was, that many knew the secret sin, and fancied him the doer of it. Let's Jasper, let it pass, I can bear it, I promise your dear father to be your staunch friend through life, and I have only kept my word. God knows you have, but now my life ends, and I cannot die till you are cleared. Edith, I told you half the truth, and you would have used it against him, had not some angel sent this girl to touch your heart. You have done your part to atone for the past, now let me do mine. Here, Tave loves him. He has risked life and honor for me. Repay him generously, and give him this. With feeble touch, Sir Jasper tried to lay his sister's hand into her hands as he spoke. Mrs. Snowden helped him, and as my lady bowed her head in silent acquiescence, a joyful smile shown on the dying man's face. One more confession, and then I am ready, he said, looking up into the face of the woman whom he had loved with all the power of a shallow nature. It was a jest to you, Edith, but it was bitter earnest to me, for I loved you, sinful as it was. Ask your husband to forgive me, and tell him it was better I should die than live to mar a good man's peace. Kiss me once, and make him happy for my sake. She touched his cold lips with remorseful tenderness, and in the same breath registered a vow to obey that dying prayer. Very dear Maurice, my brother, God bless you both, goodbye, mother. He will be a better son than I have, been to you. Then the reckless spirit of the man surviving to the last, Sir Jasper laughed faintly, as he seemed to beckon some invisible shape and died, saying, gaily, now Father Abbott, lead on, I will follow you. A year later, three weddings were celebrated on the same day and in the same church. Maurice Treherne, a well man, led up his cousin. Frank Anon rewarded Blanche's patient siege by an unconditional surrender and, to the infinite amusement of Mrs. Grundy, Major Royston publicly confessed himself out-generaled by Mary Rose. The triple wedding feast was celebrated at Treherne Abbey, and no uncanny visitor marred its festivities, for never again was the North Gaily haunted by the ghostly Abbott.