jelly lived, so to say, on a volcano. she felt that, figuratively speaking, there was not an hour of the day or night but she might be blown into fragments. the rumours as to the death of mrs. rane were becoming more terrible. they stole up and down dallory like a scorching tongue of fire, and jelly had the satisfaction of knowing that it was she who had first set light to the flame. it was all very well to say that she had made herself safe by securing the evidence of thomas hepburn: in her secret conscience she knew that she was not safe; and that, even in spite of that evidence, dr. rane might chance to be innocent. if so, why, a pretty dilemma she would find herself in. there was no help for it; she could do nothing. the creeping, scorching tongue went twisting itself in and out, and she could not quench it.
one night jelly was lying awake, according to custom now, buried deep in some horrible visions that had lately begun to haunt her: now of working in chains; now of stepping incessantly up a treadmill; now of picking oakum and living upon gruel. turning in the bed, to escape, if possible, these imaginary pictures, she suddenly heard a knock at her door. a loud hasty knock; and now a louder. jelly turned hot then cold as ice. had the officers of the law come to arrest her?
"who's there?--what is it?" she asked faintly, not daring to sit up in bed.
"art thee awake, jelly?" came the gentle response, as her door was opened a few inches. "i am very sorry to have to ask thee to get up, but my mother is worse. make haste, please."
had miss beverage's voice been that of an angel, it could not have sounded sweeter to jelly just then. the relief was great.
"i'll get up instantly, ma'am," was the ready answer--and miss beverage wondered it should have in it a tone as of gratitude. "i'll be with you at once."
mrs. beverage was subject to violent but rare attacks of spasms. she had felt ill before going to bed, but hoped it would pass off. jelly and her own two servants were soon at her bedside. she was very ill indeed. some of them ran to get hot water ready; jelly thought it would be well to call in dr. rane.
"i should like the doctor to see her; at the same time, i grieve to arouse him from sleep," said miss beverage.
"law, ma'am, that's nothing to doctors; they are used to it," cried jelly.
"mother, would thee like oliver rane sent for?" asked miss beverage, bending over the suffering lady. "yes--yes," was the feeble answer. "i am very ill, sarah."
"thee go, then, jelly."
away went jelly. unbarring their own front-door, she passed out of it, and approached dr. rane's. the doctor's professional lamp burnt clearly, and, to her great surprise, jelly saw that the door was not closed.
"he cannot have gone to bed to-night," she thought, as she walked in without ringing. it was past three o'clock.
but the house seemed to be still and dark. jelly left the front-door open, and the light shone a little way into the passage. she tried the surgery-door; it was locked; she tried the dining-room; the key of that was also turned; the kitchen-door stood open, but it was all in darkness.
"he has gone to bed and forgotten to shut up," was the conclusion jelly now arrived at. "i'll go up and call him."
groping her way upstairs, she had almost reached the top, when a pale white light suddenly illumined the landing--just the same faint sort of light that jelly had seen once before, and remembered all too well. raising her head hastily, there stood--what?
not quite at the moment did jelly know what. not in the first access of terror did she clearly recognize the features of bessy rane. it was she, all too surely; that is, the image of what she had been. she seemed to stand almost face to face with jelly: jelly nearly at the top of the staircase, she facing it before her. the light was even more faint before the figure than behind: but there was no mistaking it. what it was dressed in or whence it came, jelly never knew: there it was--the form and face of bessy rane. with a cry of agony, that echoed to the ends of the empty house in the night's silence, jelly turned and flew down again.
she never looked behind. out at the front-door went she, slamming it, in her terror, to keep in what might be following her; and she almost gave forth another scream when she found herself touched by some one coming in at the gate, and saw that it was dr. rane.
"i am called out to a country patient," he quietly said. "whilst i was putting the horse to the gig, an impression came over me that i had left my house-door open, so i thought i had better come back and see. what are you doing here at this hour, jelly? any one ill?"
jelly was in terrible distress and confusion of mind. clutching his arm as if for protection, she sobbed for an instant or two hysterically. dr. rane stared at her, not knowing what to make of it. he began to think she must require his services herself.
"sir--do you know--do you know who is in the house?"
"nobody's there: unless they've come in these last few minutes--for i suppose i did leave the door open," was dr. rane's rejoinder, and his composure contrasted strongly with jelly's emotion. "when i leave my house at night, i carry my household with me, jelly."
"your wife's there," she whispered, with a burst of agony. "sir, it's as true as that i am living to tell it."
"what do you say?"
jelly's answer was to relate what she had seen. when dr. rane had gathered in her full meaning, he grew very angry.
"why, you must be mad, woman," he cried in a low concentrated voice. "this is the second time. how dare you invent such folly?"
"i swear that her ghost walks, and that it is in there now," exclaimed jelly, almost beside herself. "it is on the landing, exactly where i saw it before. why should she come again?--why should she haunt that one particular spot? sir, don't look at me like that. you know i would not invent such a thing."
"your fancy invents it, and then you speak of it as if were fact. how dare you do so?"
"but he could not appease jelly: he could not persuade her out of her belief. and the doctor saw that it was useless to attempt it.
"why, why should her poor ghost walk?" wailed jelly, wringing her hands in distress.
"i'm sure i don't know why it should walk," returned the doctor, as if he would humour jelly and at the same time ridicule her words. "it never walks when i am in the house." but the ridicule was lost on jelly.
"she can't lie quiet in her grave. what reason is there for it?--oh, what dreadful mystery is in it?"
dr. rane looked as though he would have liked to annihilate jelly. "i begin to think that you are either a fool or a knave," he cried. "what brought you in my house at three o'clock in the morning?"
the question, together with his unconcealed anger, recalled jelly's scattered senses. she told him about the illness of mrs. beverage, and asked if he would come in.
"no, i cannot come," said dr. rane quite savagely, for it seemed that he could not get the better of his anger. "i am called out to a case of emergency, and have no time to waste over mrs. beverage. if she wants a doctor, send for seeley."
he opened his door with his latch-key, and shut it loudly after him. however, it seemed that he reconsidered the matter, for when jelly was slowly walking across the road towards mr. seeley's, dr. rane came out again, called her back, and said he would spare a minute or two.
with a stern caution to jelly not to make the same foolish exhibition of herself to others that she had to him, he went up to mrs. beverage--who was then easier, and had dozed off to sleep. giving a few general directions in case the paroxysm should return, dr. rane departed. about ten minutes afterwards, jelly was in her room, which looked towards the lane, when she heard his gig come driving down and stop at his garden-door. after waiting there a short time--he had probably come in for some case of instruments--it went away quickly across country.
the horse and gig used by the doctor belonged to the neighbouring public-house. dr. rane had a key to the stables, so that if he wanted to go out during the night, he could harness the horse to the gig without disturbing any one.
"if he had not said beforehand that he was putting the horse to, i should have thought he'd gone out because he daredn't stay in the house," muttered jelly, as she glued her face to the window pane, to look after the doctor and the gig. she could see neither; the night was very dark.
jelly's mind was in a chaos. what she had witnessed caused her still to shiver and tremble as though she had an ague; and she fully believed that she was really in danger of becoming what the doctor had told her she was already--mad.
suddenly, a cry arose in the house. mrs. beverage was worse again. the paroxysm had returned so violently that it seemed to the frightened beholders as though she would die. dr. rane was not attainable, and miss beverage sent one of the under-servants for mr. seeley. he came promptly.
in about an hour the danger had passed; the house was quiet again, and mr. seeley was at liberty to return to his rest. he had crossed the road to his own door when he heard a step following him. turning he saw jelly.
"surely she is not ill again!" he hastily exclaimed.
"no, sir, she is all right i think now. mr. seeley," added jelly in agitation so marked that he could not help noticing it, "i want to speak to you: i want to tell you something. i must tell somebody, or i shall never live till morning."
"are you ill?" questioned mr. seeley.
"when i was holding the flannels just now, and otherwise helping you, sir, you might have seen that i hadn't all my wits about me. miss beverage looked at me once or twice, as much as to ask what had become of them. mr. seeley, i have the weight of a most awful secret upon me, and i can't any longer bear with it."
"a secret!" repeated mr. seeley.
jelly drew near to him. she pointed to the house of dr. rane, and lowered her voice to a whisper.
"mrs. rane's there."
he looked across at the house--so apparently still and peaceful behind its white blinds; he turned and looked at jelly. not a syllable did he understand of her assertion.
"mrs. rane comes again, sir. she haunts the house. i have seen her twice with my own eyes. once, the night of her death, just after she had been put into her coffin; and again this very night."
"why, what on earth do you mean?" questioned mr. seeley in amazement. "mrs. rane haunts the house?--i don't understand you."
"her ghost does, sir. it is there now."
the surgeon leaned against his door-post, and stared at jelly as if he thought her mind was wandering. a minute or two passed in utter silence.
"my good woman, you need a composing draught as badly as friend beverage did just now. what is the matter with you, jelly?"
in reply, jelly told her story--as to the appearance of mrs. rane--from the beginning. but she cautiously avoided all mention of suspicion as to unfair play: in fact she did not mention dr. rane's name at all. mr. seeley listened quietly, as though he were hearing a fairy tale.
"have you spoken of this to dr. rane?" was his first question.
"yes, sir: both times. to-night i met him as i was rushing out of the house in my terror."
"what does he say to it?"
"he ridicules it. he says it's my fancy, and is in a towering rage with me. mrs. gass asked whether i had been taking too much beer. people are hard of belief as to such things."
"you told mrs. gass, then?"
"i told her the first time. i was in great distress and perplexity, and i mentioned it to her as we sat together in the churchyard looking at mrs. rane's funeral."
"what did mrs. gass say?"
"she cautioned me never to speak of it again to living soul. neither of that, nor of--of anything. but this very night, sir, i have seen it again: and if it is to go on like this, i shall soon be in a lunatic asylum."
mr. seeley had no faith in ghosts. at the same time he saw how implicit was jelly's belief in what she fancied she had seen, and the distressed state of mind it had induced. what to answer for the best, he did not know. if he threw ridicule on the story, it would make no impression upon her: if he pretended to receive it as truth, it could bring her no relief.
"jelly," said he, "i should not believe in a ghost if i saw one."
"i didn't believe in them once," answered jelly. "but seeing brings belief."
"i'm sure i don't know what to say to you," was his candid avowal. "you are evidently so imbued with your own view of the matter, that any argument to the contrary would be useless."
"what troubles me is this," resumed jelly, as if she had not heard him. "why is she unable to rest, poor thing? what's the reason for it?"
"i should say there was no reason," observed mr. seeley.
"should you, sir?"
jelly spoke significantly, and he looked at her keenly. there was a professional lamp over the door, as there was over dr. rane's; and their faces were visible to each other. the significant tone had slipped out in the heat of argument, and jelly grew cautious again.
"what am i to do, sir?"
"indeed i cannot tell you, jelly. there is only one thing to be done, i should say--get rid of the fancy again as quickly as you can."
"you think i did not see it!"
"i think all ghost-stories proceed purely from an excited imagination," said the surgeon.
"you have not lived here very long, sir, but you have been here quite long enough to know that i've not much imagination. i don't remember that, before this happened, i ever felt excited in my whole life. my nature's not that way. the first time i saw her, i had come in, as i say, from ketler's; and all i was thinking of was dinah's negligence in not putting out the matches for me. i declare that when i saw her, poor thing, that night, i was as cool as a cucumber. she stood there some time, looking at me with a fixed stare, as it seemed, and i stood in the dark, looking at her. i thought it was herself, mr. seeley, and felt glad that she was able to be out of bed. in the morning, when i heard she was dead and shut up in her coffin, i thought she must have been shut in alive. you were the first i asked whether it was true that she was dead," added jelly, warming with the sudden recollection, "i saw you standing here at the door after dinah had told me, and i stepped over to you."
the surgeon nodded. he remembered it
"to-night when i went for dr. rane, there was not a thought or particle of superstition in my mind. i was troubled about mrs. beverage, and wondering what carelessness brought the doctor's front-door open. and there she stood!--facing me as i went up the stairs--just in the same identical spot that she had stood in the time before. ugh!" broke off jelly, with a shudder. "but don't say again, sir, please, that it was my excited imagination."
"i could tell you stories of the imagination that would surprise you, jelly."
"if it was not mrs. rane--that is, her apparition--that appeared to me to-night, sir, and that appeared to me the other night, i wish these eyes may never behold anything again," spoke jelly solemnly. and mr. seeley saw how worse than useless would be any further contention.
"jelly, why have you told me this? i do not see how i can help you."
"i've told you because the weight of keeping it to myself was greater than i could bear," she replied. "it's an awful thing, and a cruel thing, that it should be just me that's singled out for it. i think i know why: and i am nearly torn to pieces with the responsibility. as to helping me, sir, i don't think that you or anybody else can do that. did you see mrs. rane after she died?"
the question was put abruptly, but in a tone that jelly meant to be indifferent. mr. seeley replied in a very matter-of-fact manner.
"no."
"well, i'll wish you goodnight, sir. keeping you talking here will do no good."
"good-morning, i should say," returned the surgeon.
jelly had reached her own gate, when she paused for a moment and then turned back across the road. the surgeon had not moved. he was still leaning against his door-post, apparently gazing at dr. rane's house. jelly said what she had returned to say.
"you will please not speak of this again to any one, mr. seeley. there are reasons why."
"not i, jelly," was the hearty rejoinder. "i don't want to be laughed at in dallory as a retailer of a ghost-story."
"thank you, sir."
with that, the surgeon passed into his dwelling, and jelly went over to hers. and the winter's night wore on to its close.
in the favourable reaction that had fallen on mrs. beverage, jelly might have gone to rest again had she so chosen. but she did not do so. there could be neither rest nor sleep for her. she sat by the kitchen-fire, and drank sundry cups of tea: and rather thought, what with one perplexity and another, that it was not sinful to wish herself dead.
in the morning about seven o'clock, when she was upstairs in her chamber, she heard the sound of a gig in the lane, and looked out. it was dr. rane, returning from his visit to his patient. his face was white and troubled. an ordinary passer-by would have said the doctor was cold: jelly drew a different conclusion.
"it's his conscience," she mentally whispered. "it's the thought of having to live in his house now that he knows what's in it. he might have set it down to my fancy the first time: he can't this. who knows, either, but what she appears to him?--who knows? but it strikes me his nerves are made of iron. he must have been driving like mad, too, by the way the gig's splashed!" added jelly, catching a glimpse of the state of the vehicle as it whirled round the corner towards the stables. "good heavens! what is to be done?--what is to be done about this dreadful secret? why should it have fallen on me of all people in the world?"
