J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 3

ram'

ght so lovely, was, in that mind which affected to scoff a

would come up to him from a lake. He had heard very nearly the same thing from a fortune-teller in France; and once at Lucerne, when he was waiting alone in his room for the hour at which he had appointed to go upon the lake, all being quiet, there came to the window, which was open, a sunburnt, lean, w

t Mardykes and the haunted lake, that it disconcerted him. He laughed, he looked out of the window. He would have

bout himself, would not have noted such things. But his mind they touched i

n the winter's tales told by its fireside, and which seize

nt, who died a very old woman twenty years before, remembered the time of the lady's death, and when she grew to woman's estate had opportunity in abundance; f

ld fashion-was said to be haunted, especially when the wind blew from the direction of Golden Friars, the point from which it blew on the night o

racter, that large room; and being herself a lady of a picturesque turn, and loving the grander melodrama of Nature, bid her mai

ts near approach that startled her, at dead of night, from her slumber, to witness

woman, whose long hair and dress seemed drenched with water. She was gazing in with a look of terror, and was shaking the sash of the window with vehemence. Having stood there for a few se

orm, who, failing to procure admission there, had gone round to some of the m

ranquil scene, that she discovered what, being a stranger to the house, she had qui

nd after a short sleep lying awake, the moon shining softly through the window, there passed by that aperture into the room a figure dressed, it seemed to him, in gray that was nearly white. It passed straight to the hearth, where was an expiring wood fire; and cowering over it with outstretched hands, it appeared to be

a letter creating a trust, it was said, in favour of Philip Feltram. The docume

ropped out of the will; and he slipped it i

ve wink that he knew a thing or two about that letter. It gave Philip Feltram two hundred a-year, charged on Harfax. It was only a direc

les away, and was a rival. So people were not quite sure whether Mr. Twyne was telling lies or truth, and the principal fact that corroborated his story was Sir Bale's manifest hatred of his secretary. In fact, Si

circumstance made as powerfully against him. But Sir Bale admitted suspicion easily, and in weighing probabilities would count a virtue very lightly against temptation and op

on stair and passage, carrying his head high, and with a thund

not that he looked vaguely to some just power-to chance itself-against this hideous imputat

ip Feltram, in her simplicity, better than the shrewdest profligate on earth could have known him. She cried

ad of so unexceptionable an opportunity of getting rid of Feltram, who, people

m in his study. The result was, that unless he restored the missi

ad already resolved. But what was to become of him? He did not very much care,

as trees would grow-and those which were clumped about their rude dwelling were nearly the last you passed in your ascent of the mountain. These people had a multitude of sheep and goats, and lived in their airy solitude a pastoral and simple life, and were childless. Philip

he only thing resembl

eave the house forthwith-to cross the lake to the Cloostedd side in Tom Marlin's boat, and then

yhow, for such a march. Why, man,'twould take an hour and more to cross the lake, and then a long uphill walk before ye could reach Trebeck's place; and if the night should fall while you were still on the mountain, ye might lose your life amo