Methought I walked, about the mid1 of night,
Into a churchyard.
---WEBSTER: The White Devil.
Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton entered the churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery of the noble Gothic arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of its richly-stained glass, profusely2 decorated with the armorial bearings of the founder3 of the fane, and the many alliances of his descendants. The sheen of their blazonry gleamed bright in the darkness, as if to herald5 to his last home another of the line whose achievements it displayed. Glowing colorings, checkered6 like rainbow tints7, were shed upon the broken leaves of the adjoining yew-trees, and upon the rounded grassy8 tombs.
Opening the gate, as he looked in that direction, Peter became aware of a dark figure, enveloped9 in a large black cloak, and covered with a slouched hat, standing10 at some distance, between the window and the tree, and so intervening as to receive the full influence of the stream of radiance which served to dilate11 its almost superhuman stature12. The sexton stopped. The figure remained stationary13. There was something singular both in the costume and situation of the person. Peter's curiosity was speedily aroused, and, familiar with every inch of the churchyard, he determined14 to take the nearest cut, and to ascertain15 to whom the mysterious cloak and hat belonged. Making his way over the undulating graves, and instinctively16 rounding the headstones that intercepted17 his path, he quickly drew near the object of his inquiry18. From the moveless posture19 it maintained, the figure appeared to be unconscious of Peter's approach. To his eyes it seemed to expand as he advanced. He was now almost close upon it, when his progress was arrested by a violent grasp laid on his shoulder. He started, and uttered an exclamation20 of alarm. At this moment a vivid flash of lightning illumined the whole churchyard, and Peter then thought he beheld21, at some distance from him, two other figures, bearing upon their shoulders a huge chest, or, it might be, a coffin22. The garb23 of these figures, so far as it could be discerned through the drenching24 rain, was fantastical in the extreme. The foremost seemed to have a long white beard descending25 to his girdle. Little leisure, however, was allowed Peter for observation. The vision no sooner met his glance than it disappeared, and nothing was seen but the glimmering26 tombstones--nothing heard but the whistling wind and the heavily-descending shower. He rubbed his eyes. The muffled27 figure had vanished, and not a trace could be discovered of the mysterious coffin-bearers, if such they were.
"What have I seen?" mentally ejaculated Peter: "is this sorcery or treachery, or both? No body-snatchers would visit this place on a night like this, when the whole neighborhood is aroused. Can it be a vision I have seen? Pshaw! shall I juggle28 myself as I deceive these hinds29? It was no bearded demon30 that I beheld, but the gipsy patrico, Balthazar. I knew him at once. But what meant that muffled figure; and whose arm could it have been that griped my shoulder? Ha! what if Lady Rookwood should have given orders for the removal of Susan's body? No, no; that cannot be. Besides, I have the keys of the vault31; and there are hundreds now in the church who would permit no such desecration32. I am perplexed33 to think what it can mean. But I will to the vault." Saying which, he hastened to the church porch, and after wringing34 the wet from his clothes, as a water-dog might shake the moisture from his curly hide, and doffing35 his broad felt hat, he entered the holy edifice36. The interior seemed one blaze of light to the sexton, in his sudden transition from outer darkness. Some few persons were assembled, probably such as were engaged in the preparations; but there was one group which immediately caught his attention.
Near the communion-table stood three persons, habited in deep mourning, apparently37 occupied in examining the various monumental carvings38 that enriched the walls. Peter's office led him to that part of the church. About to descend4 into the vaults39, to make the last preparations for the reception of the dead, with lantern in hand, keys, and a crowbar, he approached the party. Little attention was paid to the sexton's proceedings40, till the harsh grating of the lock attracted their notice.
Peter started as he beheld the face of one of the three, and relaxing his hold upon the key, the strong bolt shot back in the lock. There was a whisper amongst the party. A light step was heard advancing towards him; and ere the sexton could sufficiently41 recover his surprise, or force open the door, a female figure stood by his side.
The keen, inquiring stare which Peter bestowed42 upon the countenance43 of the young lady so much abashed44 her, that she hesitated in her purpose of addressing him, and hastily retired45.
"She here!" muttered Peter; "nay46, then, I must no longer withhold47 the dreaded48 secret from Luke, or Ranulph may, indeed, wrest50 his possessions from him."
Reinforced by her companions, an elderly lady and a tall, handsome man, whose bearing and deportment bespoke51 him to be a soldier, the fair stranger again ventured towards Peter.
"You are the sexton," said she, addressing him in a voice sweet and musical.
"I am," returned Peter. It was harmony succeeded by dissonance.
"You, perhaps, can tell us, then," said the elderly lady, "whether the funeral is likely to take place to-night? We thought it possible that the storm might altogether prevent it."
"The storm is over, as nearly as maybe," replied Peter. "The body will soon be on its way. I am but now arrived from the hall."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the lady. "None of the family will be present, I suppose. Who is the chief mourner?"
"Young Sir Ranulph," answered the sexton. "There will be more of the family than were expected."
"Is Sir Ranulph returned?" asked the young lady, with great agitation52 of manner. "I thought he was abroad--that he was not expected. Are you sure you are rightly informed?"
"I parted with him at the hall not ten minutes since," replied Peter. "He returned from France to-night most unexpectedly."
"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the younger lady, "that this should be--that I should meet him here. Why did we come?--let us depart."
"Impossible!" replied her mother; "the storm forbids it. This man's information is so strange, I scarce can credit it. Are you sure you have asserted the truth?" said she, addressing Peter.
"I am not accustomed to be doubted," answered he. "Other things as strange have happened at the hall."
"What mean you?" asked the gentleman, noticing this last remark.
"You would not need to ask the question of me, had you been there, amongst the other guests," retorted Peter. "Odd things, I tell you, have been done there this night, and stranger things may occur before the morning."
"Enough! I can comprehend you," replied Peter, significantly; "I know the count of the mourners invited to this ceremonial, and I am aware that there are three too many."
"I cannot call him to mind, though I fancy I have seen him before."
"My recollection serves me better, lady," interposed Peter. "I remember one who was once the proud heiress of Rookwood--ay, proud and beautiful. Then the house was filled with her gallant57 suitors. Swords were crossed for her. Hearts bled for her. Yet she favored none, until one hapless hour. Sir Reginald Rookwood had a daughter; Sir Reginald lost a daughter. Ha!--I see I am right. Well, he is dead and buried; and Reginald, his son, is dead likewise; and Piers58 is on his road hither; and you are the last, as in the course of nature you might have been the first. And, now that they are all gone, you do rightly to bury your grievances59 with them."
"Silence, sirrah!" exclaimed the gentleman, "or I will beat your brains out with your own spade."
"No; let him speak, Vavasour," said the lady, with an expression of anguish--"he has awakened60 thoughts of other days."
"I have done," said Peter, "and must to work. Will you descend with me, madam, into the sepulchre of your ancestry61? All your family lie within--ay, and the Lady Eleanor, your mother, amongst the number."
The sexton held the lantern so as to throw its light upon the steps as they entered the gloomy receptacle of the departed. Eleanor half repented64 having ventured within its dreary65 limits, so much did the appearance of the yawning catacombs, surcharged with mortality, and, above all, the ghostly figure of the grim knight66, affect her with dread49, as she looked wistfully around. She required all the support her brother's arm could afford her; nor was Mrs. Mowbray altogether unmoved.
"All," replied the sexton.
"Where, then, lies Sir Reginald's younger brother?"
"Who?" exclaimed Peter, starting.
"Alan Rookwood."
"What of him?"
"Nothing of moment. But I thought you could, perhaps, inform me. He died young."
"He did," replied Peter, in an altered tone--"very young; but not before he had lived to an old age of wretchedness. Do you know his story, madam?"
"I have heard it."
"From your father's lips?"
"From Sir Reginald Rookwood's--never. Call him not my father, sirrah; even here I will not have him named so to me."
"Your pardon, madam," returned the sexton. "Great cruelty was shown to the Lady Eleanor, and may well call forth68 implacable resentment69 in her child; yet methinks the wrong he did his brother Alan was the foulest70 stain with which Sir Reginald's black soul was dyed."
"With what particular wrong dost thou charge Sir Reginald?" demanded Major Mowbray. "What injury did he inflict71 upon his brother Alan?"
"He wronged his brother's honor," replied the sexton; "he robbed him of his wife, poisoned his existence, and hurried him to an untimely grave."
Eleanor shudderingly72 held back during this horrible narration73, the hearing of which she would willingly have shunned74, had it been possible.
"Can this be true?" asked the major.
"Too true, my son," replied Mrs. Mowbray, sorrowfully.
"And where lies the unfortunate Alan?" asked Major Mowbray.
"'Twixt two cross roads. Where else should the suicide lie?"
Evading75 any further question, Peter hastily traversed the vault, elevating the light so as to reveal the contents of each cell. One circumstance filled him with surprise and dismay--he could nowhere perceive the coffin of his daughter. In vain he peered into every catacomb--they were apparently undisturbed; and, with much internal marvelling76 and misgiving77, Peter gave up the search. "That vision is now explained," muttered he; "the body is removed, but by whom? Death! can I doubt? It must be Lady Rookwood--who else can have any interest in its removal. She has acted boldly. But she shall yet have reason to repent63 her temerity78." As he continued his search, his companions silently followed. Suddenly he stopped, and, signifying that all was finished, they not unwillingly79 quitted this abode80 of horror, leaving him behind them.
"It is a dreadful place," whispered Eleanor to her mother; "nor would I have visited it, had I conceived anything of its horrors. And that strange man! who or what is he?"
"Ay, who is he?" repeated Major Mowbray.
"I recollect56 him now," replied Mrs. Mowbray; "he is one who has ever been connected with the family. He had a daughter, whose beauty was her ruin: it is a sad tale; I cannot tell it now: you have heard enough of misery81 and guilt82: but that may account for his bitterness of speech. He was a dependent upon my poor brother."
"Poor man!" replied Eleanor; "if he has been unfortunate, I pity him. I am sorry we have been into that dreadful place. I am very faint: and I tremble more than ever at the thought of meeting Ranulph Rookwood again. I can scarcely support myself--I am sure I shall not venture to look upon him."
"Had I dreamed of the likelihood of his attending the ceremony, rest assured, dear Eleanor, we should not have been here: but I was informed there was no possibility of his return. Compose yourself, my child. It will be a trying time to both of us; but it is now inevitable83."
At this moment the bell began to toll84. "The procession has started," said Peter, as he passed the Mowbrays. "That bell announces the setting out."
"See yonder persons hurrying to the door," exclaimed Eleanor, with eagerness, and trembling violently. "They are coming. Oh! I shall never be able to go through with it, dear mother."
Peter hastened to the church door, where he stationed himself, in company with a host of others, equally curious. Flickering85 lights in the distance, shining like stars through the trees, showed them that the procession was collecting in front of the hall. The rain had now entirely86 ceased; the thunder muttered from afar, and the lightning seemed only to lick the moisture from the trees. The bell continued to toll, and its loud booming awoke the drowsy87 echoes of the valley. On the sudden, a solitary88, startling concussion89 of thunder was heard; and presently a man rushed down from the belfry, with the tidings that he had seen a ball of fire fall from a cloud right over the hall. Every ear was on the alert for the next sound; none was heard. It was the crisis of the storm. Still the funeral procession advanced not. The strong sheen of the torchlight was still visible from the bottom of the avenue, now disappearing, now brightly glimmering, as if the bearers were hurrying to and fro amongst the trees. It was evident that much confusion prevailed, and that some misadventure had occurred. Each man muttered to his neighbor, and few were there who had not in a measure surmised90 the cause of the delay. At this juncture91, a person without his hat, breathless with haste and almost palsied with fright, rushed through the midst of them and, stumbling over the threshold, fell headlong into the church.
"What's the matter, Master Plant? What has happened? Tell us! Tell us!" exclaimed several voices simultaneously92.
"Lord have mercy upon us!" cried Plant, gasping93 for utterance94, and not attempting to raise himself. "It's horrible! dreadful! oh!--oh!"
"What has happened?" inquired Peter, approaching the fallen man.
"And dost thou need to ask, Peter Bradley? thou, who foretold95 it all? but I will not say what I think, though my tongue itches96 to tell thee the truth. Be satisfied, thy wizard's lore97 has served thee right--he is dead."
"Who? Ranulph Rookwood? Has anything befallen him, or the prisoner, Luke Bradley?" asked the sexton, with eagerness.
A scream here burst forth from one who was standing behind the group; and, in spite of the efforts of her mother to withhold her, Eleanor Mowbray rushed forward.
"Has aught happened to Sir Ranulph?" asked she.
"Noa--noa--not to Sir Ranulph--he be with the body."
"Heaven be thanked for that!" exclaimed Eleanor. And then, as if ashamed of her own vehemence98, and, it might seem, apparent indifference99 to another's fate, she inquired who was hurt.
"It be poor neighbor Toft, that be killed by a thunderbolt, ma'am," replied Plant.
Exclamations100 of horror burst from all around.
No one was more surprised at this intelligence than the sexton. Like many other seers, he had not, in all probability, calculated upon the fulfilment of his predictions, and he now stared aghast at the extent of his own foreknowledge.
"I tell 'ee what, Master Peter," said Plant, shaking his bullet-head, "it be well for thee thou didn't live in my grandfather's time, or thou'dst ha' been ducked in a blanket; or may be burnt at the stake, like Ridley and Latimer, as we read on--but however that may be, ye shall hear how poor Toft's death came to pass, and nobody can tell 'ee better nor I, seeing I were near to him, poor fellow, at the time. Well, we thought as how the storm were all over--and had all got into order of march, and were just beginning to step up the avenue, the coffin-bearers pushing lustily along, and the torches shining grandly, when poor Simon Toft, who could never travel well in liquor in his life, reeled to one side, and staggering against the first huge lime-tree, sat himself down beneath it--thou knowest the tree I mean."
"The tree of fate," returned Peter. "I ought, methinks, to know it."
"Well, I were just stepping aside to pick him up, when all at once there comes such a crack of thunder, and, whizzing through the trees, flashed a great globe of red fire, so bright and dazzlin', it nearly blinded me; and when I opened my eyes, winkin' and waterin', I see'd that which blinded me more even than the flash--that which had just afore been poor Simon, but which was now a mass o' black smouldering ashes, clean consumed and destroyed--his clothes rent to a thousand tatters--the earth and stones tossed up, and scattered101 all about, and a great splinter of the tree lying beside him."
"And Sathan cast down; for this is a spice o' his handiwork," muttered Plant; adding, as he slunk away, "If ever Peter Bradley do come to the blanket, dang me if I don't lend a helpin' hand."
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1
mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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checkered
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| adj.有方格图案的 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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dilate
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| vt.使膨胀，使扩大 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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juggle
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| v.变戏法，纂改，欺骗，同时做；n.玩杂耍，纂改，花招 | |
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hinds
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| n.（常指动物腿）后面的( hind的名词复数 )；在后的；（通常与can或could连用）唠叨不停；滔滔不绝 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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desecration
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| n. 亵渎神圣, 污辱 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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wringing
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doffing
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| n.下筒，落纱v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的现在分词 ) | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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carvings
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| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
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vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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wrest
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| n.扭，拧，猛夺；v.夺取，猛扭，歪曲 | |
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51
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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52
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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55
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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56
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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58
piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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interred
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| v.埋，葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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foulest
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| adj.恶劣的( foul的最高级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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shudderingly
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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marvelling
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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itches
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| n.痒( itch的名词复数 )；渴望，热望v.发痒( itch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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