CHAPTER X.

When dreading the light of day contentment hath fled; imagination

oftentimes proves a forerunner to reality; corners of horror shelter

themselves within the castles of the queenly, the palaces of the

powerful, the monuments of the mighty, and the cottages of the

caretaker; but sunshine brings universal joy wherever its beams are wont

to dazzle, and often allays the anxiety which precedes its appearance.

"Great heaven!" murmured Sir John, as the tutor's note fell from his

nervous grasp, "Am I blind to touch or truth? Am I at last to labour

under the fact that my wife loves another! she who only some months

since protested her innocence in such strains as to cause the most

doubtful to stay alarm. Here is the ring, and there lies the note--the

note of him who claims to be not only her tutor but suitor. Why did she

accept the former or cause the latter to be written?"

"Then, the date! Just one month exactly before our marriage; and how I

pined for it to elapse whilst another would eagerly have prolonged it.

Oh, Irene!--false and low woman! Think you that any longer I can own you

as wife or treat you with the respect a wife deserves!" Sir John, ever

open to forgiveness, tried hard to master the dreadful spirit of

jealousy which arrived at last at its highest point, if he could feel

convinced that his wife's correspondence with her tutor ceased after her

marriage, believing if still it continued that other proofs of their

dastardly plots would be forthcoming. Thrusting his hand again into the

aperture from which he took the two tributes of his wife's tutor, there

appeared nothing to arouse further suspicion, save a Christmas card,

written with the same bold hand. The lines were these:--

"Accept my warmest greeting, friendship, love,

Thou art my charming Irene, pet and dove;

Although another claims thee for a time,

I trust to call you some day ever mine.

Oh! pray for parting soon with fettered chains,

To live and move regardless of those reins

That bind your Christmas sprigs of worldly woe

To him, whom you have hated long ago."

This was a second effusion of Otwell's, and must have been received by

Lady Dunfern since her marriage; and, thought he who held it clutched in

his trembling hand, Why did she deposit this card amongst her

valuables--had she not held it as a treasure of priceless worth?

Nothing more was wanting now to convince the distracted husband of his

wife's infidelity. Depositing the note, card, and ring in the drawer

whence he had taken them, Sir John at once proceeded to Lady Dunfern's

bedroom, and found her awake. Being a nobleman of sterling worth, and

one on whose word the greatest dependence was always manifested, he

could scarcely fail to inform her of the great and trying scene he had

just come through. Struggling, however, manfully from mentioning

anything that would serve to retard her recovery, he moved towards the

bed on which she lay, and before a word was uttered by him he suddenly

staggered and fell.

Who could then perceive the wan and haggard appearance of him who

apparently lay lifeless without being totally terror-stricken--could

she, whom he bathed in golden comfort, behold this outstretched form

with calm silence? Surely not!

Instantly ordering a maid to send for Doctor Doherty, the false invalid

lay back on her pillow, appearing not much concerned. On the doctor's

arrival he applied restoratives, but without the desired effect. Then he

ordered his instant removal to his bed-chamber, where every care and

watchfulness was extended him by Rachel Hyde.

It was nearly two hours ere he manifested the remotest symptoms of

animation, and on inquiry the doctor pronounced the sudden shock he had

nervously sustained to be grave indeed. Sir John lay in an unconscious

condition until next morning, when his first inquiry was relative to his

son.

Gradually regaining strength, and venturing in the doctor's absence out

of bed, he walked slowly into his wife's room to make personal his

recovery. He looked pale, and much annoyed, and could only with

difficulty refrain from acquainting her of what he had in store to

communicate. Each day found both invalids, just and unjust, rapidly

recovering, and a few weeks found both completely restored to health and

strength.

Lady Dunfern could not help noticing the strange and frozen manner of

her husband since the eve of his illness. At first she was inclined to

fear his approach, but gradually she felt convinced he was slightly

affected with a mild form of insanity; and making minute inquiries from

the oldest inhabitants in the neighbourhood and adjoining village as to

the accuracy of her fears, she was informed that "such never existed

amongst his ancestors, so far as they knew or heard."

Was it strange that Sir John felt a changed man towards her who was so

fully charged with deceit? Would it have been acting in accordance with

his conscience to overlook her wily artifice? Could the once fond and

loving husband, the brave and gallant knight, still trust in her whom he

felt convinced would bring a world of disgrace, not alone upon himself,

but upon one who in after years, he trusted, would proudly sustain the

honourable reputation of his race?

Ah! no matter in what light he viewed her conduct now he was brought to

loathe her very look, and was fully determined to shut her in from the

gaze of an outside world, or the cunning tricks of a trifling tutor. He

was resolved, so far as lay in his power, to treat her with the conduct

she merited, and never again allow himself to be persuaded to postpone

the visitation of his anger by her villainous pitiful appeals.

After serious thought, Sir John began to act; he was inclined to think

delay would be dangerous, and on approaching his breakfast table one

morning soon after his recovery, he hinted to his housekeeper that he

"wished a private interview with her after his morning repast." This

Rachel punctually obeyed.

Seeing her master's trembling hand twitch the tips of his beard, she

feared something dreadful must surely be disturbing his peace of mind,

and commanding her to "lock the door" lest they should be interrupted,

he informed her of all that had happened.

Rachel, ever ready to sow doubt in the mind of her master regarding his

wife, manifested her want of surprise by relating some incidents which

occurred under her notice. Nothing, however monstrous, could astonish

Sir John at this time regarding his wife's movements, and informing

Rachel of his intention he ordered the key of one of the rooms that yet

had been shut against the entrance of Lady Dunfern.

Hastening to fulfil her master's order, Rachel returned with the mighty

key, and handed it to Sir John, who moved to the door, and thrusting the

rusty key into its aperture, succeeded with great difficulty in

effecting an entrance. Rachel followed, and both entered, locking the

heavy-panelled oak door from within. "This," said Sir John, "is the room

of correction, the room of death. It defies escape or secretion. It has

been so long as I remember held in abhorrence by my late lamented

parents, and, so far as I can understand, by many of my ancestors.

"First of all, the lady who shared its midst was a born imbecile, the

eldest daughter of my great great grandfather--Sir Sydney Dunfern. She

was nursed and tenderly cared for within these walls for a period of

thirty-six years, and through the instantaneous insanity of her ward,

was marked a victim for his murderous hand. Yes, it has been related

that during midnight, when she was fast asleep, he drew from that

drawer" here Sir John pointed to the wardrobe, "a weapon of warlike

design, and severed her head almost from her body, causing instant

death.

"It was not known until next day about noon that anything extraordinary

had happened. It was first detected by Sir Sydney himself, who became

alarmed at not having seen Wade--the ward's name was Hector Wade--as

usual at ten o'clock, and tapping at the door, was surprised to hear

some noise issue from within. Being of a hasty temper, he became

indignant at the ward's indifference, and calling loudly, finally gained

admittance.

"The murderer had her stretched on this floor, and every article capable

of being removed piled upon her corpse. Horrified at such a sight, Sir

Sydney became wild with grief, and at once handed the pitiful lunatic

over to those in authority.

"The next inhabitant doomed to share in its dull delight was Kathleen,

wife of my beloved grandfather, a beautiful woman, whose portrait you

now see. She, I am sorry to relate, proved more an accomplice than the

honoured wife of him who added so much to the welfare of those who now

benefit by his great economy. The hand of death visited her here

likewise with its separating touch.

"The last person inhabiting its cheerless enclosure was a distant

relative of my mother, a gentleman named Rodney Rupert, who fell from

the path of virtue and trod the field of vice, until confined within

this prison of pathetic account, and who, in a moment of passion, ended

his days with that pistol which hangs on yonder hook, and on that bed

all these lay, and which shall again be made use of by a traitoress of

no mean account either."

Sir John then proceeded to give orders to "have the room made as

comfortable as its scanty furniture permitted," which consisted only of

one small table, one chair, and an old-fashioned wardrobe, with several

small drawers attached, one dressing-table and wash-stand, all of which

were magnificently carved oak and richly panelled.

There was only one large window, made up of iron bars and a multitude of

small panes of glass not larger than three inches square, all of equal

dimensions, and inside this window were strong bars of iron looped on

every side and firmly fastened.

The cocoa matting which served as a carpet, parts of which were grim

with gore, was almost worn past recognition. These were all the articles

this badly-lighted room contained, save several oil-paintings of

enormous size. On the whole, it presented the appearance of a private

prison.

An icy atmosphere pervaded throughout the room, damped with an odour of

something inert, which Sir John believed would be rendered extinct in

the presence of a fire.

Rachel, after receiving orders in confidence from her master, set

matters to right by lighting a fire, dusting the old and much-worn

furniture, airing the bed-clothes, etc., being strictly charged to

admit, on no pretence whatever, now or at any time, any member of the

household or visitor to the mansion.

When everything was in perfect readiness for the reception of its guest,

Sir John directed Rachel to "bring her Ladyship into his presence." What

could have astonished Lady Dunfern more on being ushered into a room

which never before was open for her inspection? Nothing save the

information her husband eagerly awaited her to receive. On being

informed of her vast deception, which was proved beyond doubt, and to

which she felt wholly incompetent to reply, she was absolutely

dumb-stricken.

It required no further questioning now concerning her husband's recent

strangeness of manner and rigid coolness with which he was forced to

treat her whom he scorned to call wife.

"You, madam," said he, "have by your conduct, both before and after

marriage, forced me to keep you a prisoner within these walls so long as

you live or I exist.

"You have not failed to act the infamous by kissing me with the lips of

a Judas! You have at last plunged me into deepest disgrace, not alone

me, but him whom you should have been liberated to succour and chastise.

Mocking wretch! your foul deeds shall have plenty of scope here for

improvement, and a prisoner you shall be during the remainder of your

life."

Sir John, without another word, glided from before the presence of her

who once was treated as a goddess by him, and turning the great key that

locked her for ever from his view, handed it to Rachel, who was to have

sole admittance to, and full charge of, his wife.

When left to herself in the ghostly and spacious closet of crippled

right, which until now she never dare approach, Lady Dunfern, instead of

shewing signs of grief, which Sir John felt assured must burst from its

midst, gloried in being aloof from the occasional rebukes to which she

was subject whilst occupying the rooms free to her access. She would now

have full opportunity of guiding her thoughts to self-advantage or

disadvantage. She felt free to try and act as she in any case would have

done, regarding very little the shame brought on her husband by her

intrigue with the tutor, whom she simply idolized, never once casting a

thought on her infant, knowing well it would be passionately cared for.

Oceans of thought took hold on her as she vacantly viewed the damp and

darkened walls of her monstrous cell, now and then moving forward to

inspect the many paintings of great and historic worth which hung from

their lofty support, mostly all more or less resembling him who probably

should ere long add to their number.

Lady Dunfern allowed the weeks and months to pass unheeded until

afforded ample opportunity of resorting to some means that might not

alone free her from such death-like surroundings, but snap the chain of

obligation in two which presently connected her with a husband she cared

not for.

She longed for the hour of flight from the dismal shelter under which

she was doomed to dwell. She yearned for the days that had fled, and

more so for her who had shared in their pleasure. She pined for him whom

she so long lived to adore, and hesitated not to do so still.

Could she only acquaint him of her husband's cruelty, how he might

assist her in effecting her release. What could be done, she frequently

asked herself, to brighten her future only a little?

Could she possibly escape? She feared not.

Every two hours that villainous woman entered during the day since first

she was snared in the net of revenge and compelled to remain within its

enclosures of shivering fear. Still, she never lost hope of flight, and

cheered with the thought of future stratagem, she tried to remain

somewhat consoled.