CHAPTER V.
CONSTERNATION AT DARLINGTON HALL.
The consternation that ensued among all assembled at this unlooked-for conclusion of the mariner’s tale was evidently great.
The old knight jumped to his feet in amazement, and with trembling limbs.
He tried to speak, but could not.
Tim’s eyes rolled in wild excitement, while the footman fell upon his knees, and began to mumble out his prayers in a very rapid manner, for he had come to the humble conclusion, in his own mind, that for once in his life he had been in company with some demon of darkness.
He groaned aloud, and pulled very comical faces, while others made a sudden rush towards the door!
Among them all there was one who looked on the matter with lightness and good humour.
That one was Wildfire Ned.
Pistol in hand he dashed towards the window as bold and fearless as a young lion.
“If ye be mortal, die!” he said, firing his weapon after the retiring skeleton figure.
With the agility of a cat he jumped on to the window-sill, and looked out into the darkness.
The ghastly apparition had vanished!
Whither or how had it gone?
“Strange,” muttered Ned, angrily, as he returned to his seat. “Where’s the cripple?”
All looked around.
He also had vanished.
“There is some strange horrible mystery in all this,” said Ned, “and I will perish before I give up the search without unravelling it.”
“It all seems to me like a dream,” the knight said at last, with a great effort. “Some strange and horrible nightmare.”
“I wasn’t frightened, sir,” said Tim, plucking up his courage. “Nothing could frighten me now, seeing as how I rode home with one on ’em.”
“It’s all a trick, I know,” said the footman. “Some of the villagers have got it up for a lark, seeing as how it’s Christmas time.”
“Perhaps so, Roger,” the knight replied, with a smile; “but I noticed you soon fell on your knees, and began to say your prayers.”
“And so did Tim,” Ned laughed; “but now it’s all over, you may retire,” he said to the servants who were there, “you may retire. Uncle and I wish to be alone.”
Tim was the first to go to the door, and he opened it with a shaking hand.
In order to reach the servants’ hall, they had to traverse several long dark galleries, and descend the main staircase.
Tim wanted his fellow servants to look upon him as a very bold youth, but he took great care not to be the first to go out into the dark gallery.
In this way, also, the chief footman thought, but didn’t like to say so.
“Why don’t you go on?” said he to Tim.
“Why don’tyou?”
“You were the first at the door.”
“Suppose I was, that don’t matter.”
“You’re afraid?”
“No I ain’t.”
“Yes you are, Tim.”
“If you think so, then follow me,” said the young groom, plucking up all his spare courage, and flourishing his riding-whip.
The domestics left the room, and proceeded cautiously and slowly down the stairs towards the servants’ hall, creeping along, one after the other, in the dark.
They had all got as far as the large, old oak baronial dining-room, on the ground floor, and were creeping along through the spacious entrance hall, towards the head of the kitchen stairs, when every one stopped.
For a moment they stood in the darkness, breathing very hard, when their ears were startled by the sudden clanking of chains!
The sound proceeded from the baronial hall, where for centuries had stood wooden figures, clothed in armour!
The clanking noise sounded so horrible, that they all rushed down the kitchen stairs, one on top of another, in wild confusion.
Roger, the footman, was the first to make the descent, which he did six stairs at a time.
But directly he and the rest got to the bottom in breathless haste, they were still more horrified at the sight that confronted them.
For there stood at the foot of the stairs a skeleton form, sword in hand!
“Ha! ha!” he gruffly laughed, as he flourished his weapon.
The footman shouted in terror, and turned on his heel to flee upstairs again.
The rest followed him, bellowing and screaming at the top of their voices.
Upstairs they flew in wild dismay, tearing their clothes, and knocking each other about in the darkness, making all haste to leave far behind them the dreadful form they had seen below.
No man, or woman either, ever mounted flights of stairs with such expedition as did the servants on this memorable occasion.
Coat tails were torn off, wigs were lost, trousers were torn behind in very unpleasant and uncomfortable places, and more than one received hard thumps in the ribs from some one they knew not.
But this was nothing, so that they could escape with their lives.
Once in the entrance hall again they ran towards the great drawing-room.
The door was unexpectedly and very hastily opened for them by a skeleton!
With a cry of agony and surprise they turned towards the baronial hall as a place of safety.
They reached the doorway almost fainting with fatigue and fright.
A man in armour strode forth to meet them, lance in hand!
More than one fainted on the spot.
Roger, the footman, like a brave man, trusted to his legs once more, followed by as many of his fellow servants as had any strength left in them; he vanished up the great staircase at lightning speed.
It seemed to be a race for life or death with all of them.
Round and round the staircase they manfully ascended, never casting a single look behind.
They had gained the long, wide corridor which led to Sir Richard’s library, and all felt safe.
Roger, as may be imagined, was first, and opened the door.
His foot caught in the carpet on the threshold, and down he went on his face, swelling his nose to the size of a cucumber.
The others, in wild confusion, rushed after him and tumbled, men and women, head over heels on the prostrate footman, nearly smothering him with their combined weight.
“What mean all this uproar and fright?” said the old knight, rising in great anger. “Are ye all turned mad, ye noisy, raving knaves? Explain, I say, explain!”
But none of the servants could explain anything, for they were all out of breath, and as pale as death.
After a time, when Roger was dragged out with his nose bleeding, he looked about him with a wild and frightened gaze, as he stammered out,
“O-h-h-h, s-i-r! we-e-’ve s-e-e-n him!”
“Seen him! Seen who, knave? Speak quickly! or, by my honour, I’ll whip my sword through your trembling carcase!” said old Sir Richard, getting red in the face. “Speak, some of you!” he continued, looking daggers at his alarmed domestics.
“Oh! m-e-r-cy! master, m-e-r-cy!” croaked out Roger, falling on his knees.
“Speak, rascal! Who have ye seen?”
“The skeleton! ghastly, ghostly, all bones, and sword in hand, grinning like an angry demon.”
“A skeleton!”
“Aye, sir; two on ’em.”
“Two, do you say?”
“Yes, Sir Richard; one at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, and t’other opened the drawing-room door! H-o-o! ask ’em all if it ain’t true, good master!” continued the footman, rolling his eyes and moaning.
“And another grim rascal in armour rushed at us lance in hand at the dining-hall door?” whined Tim, the valiant groom. “Oh, lor, the whole place is full on ’em, I do believe.”
For some moments Sir Richard did not know what to do.
All around him knelt his frightened domestics, groaning and shaking.
“Why, but just now, knave, you said it was all a lark, perhaps, got up by some of the silly villagers to frighten us. Ghosts and living skeletons indeed! There, go down and get your suppers at once, and let’s have no more of such silly nonsense.”
“Nay, good master, we dare not.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” said Ned, laughing; “how can you be geese enough to believe in such old women’s tales. Get up off your knees at once, I say, and don’t stick there shivering like leaves. I have lived in the Hall this many a year, and have never seen anything of the kind. I only wish I could come across the rascals who are playing such tricks, that’s all;I’dsoon find out whether they were ghosts or not.”
“Would you? Ha! ha!” said suddenly a voice.
“What was that? Who spoke?” said Ned, colouring with anger.
“Would you? Ha! ha! then you shall soon have a chance, bold youth,” said the voice again.
“Who or what is that?” said old Sir Richard, starting.
“That’s him, master; that’s him! the ghosts! ho-o-o!” said Roger, with chattering teeth.
“This is strange,” thought Wildfire Ned, “there cannot be any doubt but that there is some mystery hanging about the old Hall. I have long been persuaded of it, but it will not do to let my uncle or his people know what I think of this mystery.”
“What is that you are saying, Edward?” asked Sir Richard.
“Nothing, uncle,” he replied. “I was only smiling at the foolish fears of these tremblers here.”
“Come, rouse up all of you,” said old Sir Richard; “and follow me!”
“That’s just whatIwas about to propose, uncle,” said Ned. “We’ll soon get to the bottom of this strange affair.”
Arming himself with a sword, Wildfire Ned led the way, lamp in hand. “I’ll lead the way,” said he; “follow me! Uncle you can remain behind; there is nothing to fear. I care not for a hundred skeletons, or ghosts either; follow me.”