The Haunted Chamber

The Haunted Chamber

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Haunted Chamber, by "The
Duchess" This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and
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Title: The Haunted Chamber A Novel
Author: "The Duchess"
Release Date: June 13, 2005 [EBook #16053]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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The Haunted Chamber
BY "THE DUCHESS"
1888


CHAPTER I.

The sun has "dropped down," and the "day is dead." The silence and
calm of coming night are over everything. The shadowy twilight lies
softly on sleeping flowers and swaying boughs, on quiet fountains--the
marble basins of which gleam snow-white in the uncertain light--on the
glimpse of the distant ocean seen through the giant elms. A floating
mist hangs in the still warm air, making heaven and earth mingle in one
sweet confusion.
The ivy creeping up the ancient walls of the castle is rustling and
whispering as the evening breeze sweeps over it. High up the tendrils
climb, past mullioned windows and quaint devices, until they reach
even to the old tower, and twine lovingly round it, and push through the
long apertures in the masonry of the walls of the haunted chamber.
It is here that the shadows cast their heaviest gloom. All this corner of
the old tower is wrapped in darkness, as though to obscure the scene of
terrible crimes of past centuries.
Ghosts of dead-and-gone lords and ladies seem to peer out
mysteriously from the openings in this quaint chamber, wherein no
servant, male or female, of the castle has ever yet been known to set
foot. It is full of dire horrors to them, and replete with legends of
by-gone days and grewsome sights ghastly enough to make the stoutest
heart quail.
In the days of the Stuarts an old earl had hanged himself in that room,
rather than face the world with dishonor attached to his name; and
earlier still a beauteous dame, fair but frail, had been incarcerated there,
and slowly starved to death by her relentless lord. There was even in
the last century a baronet--the earldom had been lost to the Dynecourts
during the Commonwealth--who, having quarreled with his friend over
a reigning belle, had smitten him across the cheek with his glove, and
then challenged him to mortal combat. The duel had been fought in the
luckless chamber, and had only ended with the death of both
combatants; the blood stains upon the flooring were large and deep, and
to this day the boards bear silent witness to the sanguinary character of
that secret fight.

Just now, standing outside the castle in the warmth and softness of the
dying daylight, one can hardly think of by-gone horrors, or aught that is
sad and sinful.
There is an air of bustle and expectancy within-doors that betokens
coming guests; the servants are moving to and fro noiselessly but
busily, and now and then the stately housekeeper passes from room to
room uttering commands and injunctions to the maids as she goes. No
less occupied and anxious is the butler, as he surveys the work of the
footmen. It is so long since the old place has had a resident master, and
so much longer still since guests have been invited to it, that the
household are more than ordinarily excited at the change now about to
take place.
Sir Adrian Dynecourt, after a prolonged tour on the Continent and
lingering visits to the East, has at last come home with the avowed
intention of becoming a staid country gentleman, and of settling down
to the cultivation of turnips, the breeding of prize oxen, and the
determination to be the M.F.H. when old Lord Dartree shall have
fulfilled his declared intention of retiring in his favor. He is a tall young
man, lithe and active. His skin, though naturally fair, is bronzed by
foreign travel. His hair is a light brown, cut very close to his head. His
eyes are large, clear, and honest, and of a peculiarly dark violet; they
are beautiful eyes, winning and sweet, and steady in their glance. His
mouth, shaded by a drooping fair mustache, is large and firm, yet very
prone to laughter.
It is quite the end of the London season, and Sir Adrian has hurried
down from town to give directions for the reception of some people
whom he has invited to stay with him during the slaughter of the
partridges.
Now all is complete,