Mystery of the Haunted Castle - ebook

IV

Night set in. Outside the thick walls of the castle reigned dead silence undisturbed even by dogs’ barking or nocturnal birds’ warble. Within doors, however, someone still kept vigil although it was long past midnight. In one of the windows in the northern wing wan light glimmered then died out instantly. A tall silhouette of a dignified lady wearing a celadon ankle-length silk gown came into view. The lady tripped along murky corridor, passed a number of spacious chambers, eventually – quite noiselessly, sneaked into Ellen’s apartment. Current of cold air whiffed into the bedroom. Heavy curtains in the window swayed and parted. The refined lady ambled up to the foot of the four-poster and lingered there, watching the slumbering girl. The latter, subconsciously sensing the visitor’s steadfast gaze stirred restlessly and instantly woke up catching sight of the stranger. As though spell-bound she stared at the long raven black curls reaching down to the caller’s waist, pallid face, elegant silk dress adorned with multitude of laces discernible in the light of the dimmed salt-lamp. The lady stood there motionless, looking at Ellen with enormous sorrowful eyes. In one of the farthermost chambers a clock resounded striking 1 a.m. Startled by the sound the lady budged and took a step forward, clearly purposed to approach Ellen, but the dazed girl hastily recoiled and, overcome with panic, clung to the bedhead muffling herself up with the eiderdown as if this move could possibly guard her against entering into contact with the phantom.

The black-haired lady, perceiving her companion’s apprehension halted and wavered, then, evidently changing her mind, turned round and – as noiselessly as she had walked in – left the apartment, crossed the corridor and began to descend the stairs. All of a tremble, her heart pounding with fear, Ellen jumped out of bed, flung a dressing gown on her shoulders then cautiously peeped into the hall. It was totally empty. Ellen ran over to her mother’s room, gave a knock at it.

— Are you still awake? May I come in? – she asked setting the door ajar.

— Certainly, dear. Oh, – I had no idea it was that late – added the dame glancing at her watch. – I was sent a gripping book yesterday and lost myself in it. But what are you doing here at this time of night? I thought you were fast asleep. Tomorrow you’re getting up early in the morning. As far as I remember you and Robert have made plenty of plans which will keep you busy whole day. You must get a good sleep.

Ellen approached the wide antique bed her mother lay in and sat on the very edge.

— Didn’t you hear her rove the halls and nearby chambers on our floor, Mum? She resumed her peregrination anew. You must have seen her too, haven’t you? This time she started roaming the part of the hall abutting on my suite, apparently made it her aim to contact me.

— Who on earth are you talking about? – asked the countess putting aside her book.

— Oh, mother, would you please stop pretending and keeping the matter dark? – said Ellen visibly annoyed. – You know perfectly well who I’m referring to… the person who wants to get in touch with me is none other than baroness Esterina herself. This once, Mother, I insist on your priming me about her – you must not dismiss the subject any longer. The more so that scarcely a minute ago she paid a call on me.

— What? Esterina came to see you? That’s impossible. What led you to believe that…

— You’re trying to dodge my question, Mother. Tonight I saw her quite clearly when she stepped into my room. Although – actually, the very first time I ever glimpsed her was a few years ago when I arrived for Christmas and stayed here whole week… but at that time – or rather – that evening when I chanced to observe her walking past my apartment I thought I was just seeing things. That manifestation lasted no longer than two or three seconds, that’s why I couldn’t tell for sure whether what I saw was real. Moreover during the week I spent here I happened to overhear snatches of conversation, some gossips I formerly used to ignore – broaching the topic of legends and rumours circulating round the neighbourhood, dealing with frequent materializations, spectres haunting the manor, strange occurrences taking place in the northern wing. It was only then that it dawned on me that all those reports are truthful and Esterina in point sof fact does haunt this place. You’ve seen her too, haven’t you?

— Well,...actually… I’ve chanced on her several times… — admitted the countess unwillingly.

— There you are! So you know what I mean – Ellen shuddered at the mere recollection of the phantom’s intrusion. – It was an awful experience. Previously, especially in childhood, I never really attached importance to these phenomena probably because they were simply above my understanding although I admit they used to fill me with awe. Furthermore, Mum, you, on each recurrence of such nasty incident, also did your best to dispel my fears, persuade me that all those sightings of weird, freakish, mostly awfully dismal individuals including frequent calls of that strange silent gentleman in the portrait gallery I happened to glimpse once or twice – never mentioned these encounters to you I suppose – ought to be ascribed to nothing but pure coincidence. Tonight, however, Mum, when quite unexpectedly I saw the baroness at close quarters I finally realized that all or at least most of the rumours regarding the problem I’ve heard so far are only too true, I just can’t…

— Things don’t look that bad, Ellen. At any rate not as tragic as you believe them to be. Esterina means no harm, trust me. Besides you should keep in mind that the castle, the whole of the estate in fact, had once been her property and it’s several centuries now since she began to manifest her presence. Both the relatives as well as most of our neighbours have already become accustomed to these occurrences.

— Have you got used to these visits too?

— Of course!

— Well, you obviously tend to take an entirely different view of the topic, having resided in this manor practically since infancy. You belong here, have never been keen on travelling – like I am – consequently even flatly declined to come and see me in London. The climate of the estate along with its old-time legends, unaccountable mysteries agrees with you, you just take it for granted whereas I, unlike you, find it absolutely unfeasible to get accustomed so readily to quotidian invasion of spectres, phantoms – whatever these things are termed. They’ve always struck me with indescribable horror.

— By the way, Ellen – are you certain the ghost you saw tonight was none other than Esterina herself? – to be quite honest – added the countess noticing bewilderment on her daughter’s face – as you very well know – the baroness is not the only phantom to haunt the premises…

— I saw her pretty distinctly. There can be no doubt as to her identity. The phantom that called on me resembled to perfection the refined lady exhibited in the 17th century portrait hanging in the picture gallery. She wore an identical richly embroidered willow-green silk dress adorned with laces, had raven-black curls reaching down to her waist. I’m positive the lady who visited me was Esterina. Only this time she didn’t limit herself to ambling the nearby corridors. Tonight she entered my apartment.

— Really? That’s incredible! – declared the countess. – For all I remember Esterina has never before called on any family member in their rooms.

— Apparently tonight she resolved to defy her set habits and paid me an unforeseen visit. What’s wrong, Mother? You look surprised. Don’t you trust me? – inquired Ellen perceiving the enigmatic glance her mother gave her.

— That’s not the point, dear. – the countess watched her daughter thoughtfully. – I can recollect but merely one occasion on which the baroness ever risked approaching a girl in her private apartment… no, don’t worry – she smiled reassuringly seeing concern in Ellen’s face, then, wishing to anticipate further questions that might be asked of her she continued.

— The baroness came to see your grandmother Emma.

— Whatever for? What did she want from grandma?

— Esterina advised her to transfer the wedding ceremony to a later date. – by one week to be precise.

— Advised? How so? Ghosts don’t talk! They are immaterial!

— Most of them are taciturn, – true. Yet Esterina is by no means an ordinary phantom and this rule surely does not apply to her. I can but venture a guess as to the motive of her recurrent visits, however, in my opinion something has evidently been preying on the lady’s mind over the past centuries, keeps running through her head even in the grave, that’s why she’s trying hard to contrive some manner in which to communicate to us the cause of her anguish. It may just as well bear on some ancient secret no relative has ever been initiated into. In those stormy days people were likely to meet with all sorts of tragedies imaginable, thus, presumably it must have been an outstanding family affair, a sense of wrong that still rankles in the lady’s heart – makes her incessantly haunt the entire estate.

— Can’t you guess what type of calamity might have been involved in this particular case?

— I hate to confess I haven’t the remotest idea. Had any intelligence whatsoever – at least partly elucidating the riddle – come meanwhile to our knowledge we would undoubtedly have devised a method in which to ease the patroness of the distress tantalizing her. Nevertheless much to my regret none of the relatives – for all the steps they had taken to this end – had ever succeeded in obtaining whatever information regarding the topic.. Even letters written two or three centuries ago, some of them pretty detailed and circumstantial -gave us no vaguest clue.

— On the other hand what makes you so confident that Esterina’s unrest is well-founded? And that there really exists some vital issue – whatever the crux may concern – she is indeed troubled by? Provided naturally that phantoms are at all able to fret themselves about anything… let alone think.

— I daresay this particular attribute is not typical of all the apparitions – stated the countess seriously. – but Esterina’s ghost comports herself exactly as she had in her lifetime, is also whispered to have manifested her presence to a large number of inmates through good many years following her death. Then – for several subsequent generations she never once put in a single appearance, thus falling into almost total oblivion. Nonetheless for the past 110 years she’s been extremely restless again, has haunted plenty of relatives who frequently arrived at at the mansion to pay us a visit, as well as, the entire staff and most of the family members, including – as I have already said – your grandmother Emma.

— But what on earth induced her to see me tonight? – me of all people. Through long years I’ve been an uncommonly rare visitor at the manor… Esterina should hold me in disregard.

— I rather think she meant to communicate to you a very important piece of news, then – on realizing what awful fright you took at the sight of her she must have thought better of it and left your apartment. You had best forget the whole thing, stop worrying and go to bed. It’s almost one o’clock.

— All the same I’m still terrified. – sighed Ellen rising from the edge of her mother’s four-poster and making for the door. She opened it and pressed the switch in the corridor to turn the light on, then looked fearfully round. To her great relief there was not a soul within sight.

— There is nothing to be scared of, dear. Especially not of Esterina. You can take my word for that. She’ll do you no harm.

Somewhat reassured Ellen returned to her apartment utterly oblivious of quite a different kind of peril she was exposed to at the moment – a wholly tangible irrational design conceived this time by a living person’

A few minutes after the light in the hall went out, in pitch-darkness dissipated only by a flickering flame- towards the young lady’s suite – holding an alight candle in one hand, screening the glimmer with the other palm so as to pass unnoticed in the gloom, carefully picking her way, tiptoed Angie. Right now she was actuated by the one and only idea-by hook or by crook she had to delay Ellen’s wedding. The girl was well aware that on the day of the ceremony the happy bride – according to the time – honoured custom – would be transferred the valuable diamond necklace which, ever since she had first set her eyes on it a year before, had been a longed – for yet altogether unattainable target for herself. Notwithstanding patently insuperable obstacles foiling her purpose the determined lass – fostering unrestrained desire to come into the possession of the jewel – was prepared to attempt the impossible to carry her scheme into effect. It never entered Angie’s head that her wanton deed would undoubtedly render her cousin miserable. In her estimation Ellen was a sweet charming maiden whose magnificent trump card was her bushy honey-golden curls which greatly added to the relative’s beauty and stood in marked contrast with enormous black eyes, heritage of Italian ancestry. If it hadn’t been for that gorgeous hair forming a halo around her cousin’s face perhaps lord Danvall wouldn’t cherish such vast affection for his fiancée and rupture the betrothal, which breach of promise would prevent the prospective bride from succeeding to the treasured family rivière – and thus the immensely coveted necklace of her dreams might eventually become her own property?

Gripping sharp scissors in her palm Angie hastened up to Ellen’s chamber and pressed the handle to open the door. Just then the flame of the candle twinkled, some imperceptible formidable power jerked the lurking girlie backwards with such stupendous vehemence that Angela staggered, almost toppling down. For a couple of seconds the flame glimmered at the very base of the candle – wick as if it was about to go out – a minute later – though – it blazed up again. Confusedly – embarrassed at having been caught in the act Angie looked about her – but there was no one within the range of vision. She concluded she must have stumbled on a ply in the carpet and once more, clutching scissors strongly in her hand she advanced in the direction of Ellen’s apartment. This time the invisible power pulled the lass away from the door so violently that Angie measured her length on the floor, dropping both the scissors and the candle which went out instantly. Simultaneously, for a short instant she felt someone’s soft palm graze against the nape of her neck which brush made her blood curdle.

— Who… who is here? – she stuttered.

She reached out and cautiously passed her hand around her and across the floor, but apart from the pair of scissors she quickly stuck into her pocket her fingers encountered nothing. At that very moment a strong waft of icy cold air – issuing from nowhere – blew on her..

— Who is in here? – repeated Angela, her voice breaking.

By way of reply she heard a whisper, pretty distinct, though so faint that it seemed to proceed from unfathomable depths.

— Let Ellen be! Don’t you dare enter that chamber! I forbid you!

— Where are you? I can’t see you! – moaned Angie.

— You are not allowed to approach the bride’s apartment! Go away! Leave this place! I command you! – the whisper sounded very clear now – on top of that proceeded from the proximity of Ellen’s chamber. Angie automatically groped for the candle she had dropped, intending to re-light it, yet her unidentified companion apparently had no difficulty in piercing Cimmerian darkness the corridor was plunged in and evidently must have perceived her gesture since the very instant Angela held out her hand for it she heard the candle start rolling speedily along the hall beyond her reach, shoved away by someone’s strong arm.

Panic-stricken, Angie instinctively uttered a loud scream. The vociferation infiltrated thick walls of the edifice bringing to the corridor some of the servants including countess Loretti herself. The dame pressed the switch fixed close by her apartment thus inundating the entire hall with flood of light-streaming from lamp brackets lining the tapestried passage. Completely stunned to see her niece kneeling on the floor in a daze, wearing merely a sateen nightdress the lady hastened up to Angela and helped her rise from the ground.

— What do you think you’re doing here, dearie, at that late hour, in this… – she eyed the girl up and down – most improper garb?

— I have no idea. – murmured Angie, too bewildered at the unforeseen interference and frustration of her meticulous plan to keep a level head.

— What’s the matter with you? Are you hurt? – asked the countess visibly exceedingly upset.

— I don’t know… I really… I feel so strange…

The lady of the manor soothingly stroked her niece’s long hair.

— I’ll take you back to your room. – oh, Anna – she addressed the maid who had just turned up in the hall – would you fetch that pink dressing gown from my bathroom? Angie must be chilled to the marrow.

— Yes, Madam.

— Where is my candle? – whined Angela in despair, looking round the hall.

— What candle do you mean? – inquired Ellen surprised.

— The one I got from grandma Emma. – muttered the lass avoiding her cousin’s gaze. – It’s adorned with plenitude of gorgeous ornaments. I must have tripped over something on my way to… I guess it slipped from my hand and rolled away. I can’t find it anywhere… she faltered.

Anna, who had just reappeared in the doorway of the countess’s apartment holding the lady’s warm dressing gown – on handing the garment to her mistress who wrapped it round Angela’s shoulders although the latter was much too agitated to feel cold, – hearing the girl’s lamentations the maid began to pace the corridor up and down in search of Angie’s lost property peeking into all the nooks of the hall, under chest of drawers as well as behind tall vases containing artificial flowers placed by the walls, whereupon she rejoined the rest of the company.

— I’m afraid your candle is nowhere to be found, Miss.

— But I had it with me! – insisted Angie irritably. – You must have overlooked it. I made it quite plain I dropped it somewhere here, on the floor and it went out immediately. I want you to find it!

— I checked the whole corridor very thoroughly. – Anna justified herself.

— But not thoroughly enough, it seems!

— If Anna says your candle isn’t here then it isn’t. You should take her word for it. She’s hawk-eyed. Besides – that bright purple colour is pretty conspicuous against the carpet’s beige background – Ellen cut in.

— What on earth made you use the candle instead of turning on the light? – inquired Robert listening to the bizarre dispute.

Angela blinked, losing her countenance.

— Well, I … it might have rolled farther off – under the other commode across the hall – she whispered absent – mindedly pretending to miss the question lord Danvall put to her, trying to make the best of a bad bargain.

— If it really did roll that far James will push the commode aside in the morning and recover your property. Don’t worry, honey. You’re sure to retrieve your favourite candle. But right now it’s high time to go back to sleep. Why – it’s almost three o’clock. In case you’re afraid to return to your room all alone Anna will accompany you there – declared the countess beckoning to the maid to approach. – Good night, Angie!