CHAPTER XXI
Robertwas very much encouraged by this letter because he had great confidence in Astrology and in this man's ability. He decided to go immediately to Florida for a rest and visit all the beautiful spots and watering places that he could find, hoping to get some news of Marie. Going directly to Palm Beach, Florida, he met some friends of Conan Doyle's who were very much interested in spiritualism. They told him that a famous spiritualist, Lady Bersford from England, had been there, and that they believed she could help solve the problem. Robert asked where he could find her and was told that she had gone to Ocala, Florida, to visit Silver Springs and investigate the legend of Silver Springs, the story about a beautiful young girl who drowned herself in the Springs.
A Legend
(The following story combines the accuracies of fact with the romance of fiction. Aunt Silly lived at Silver Springs until her death, about sixteen years ago, and was seen by many who visited the Springs. It is from the gifted pen of Mrs. Maley Bainbridge Crist):
Near Florida's celebrated Silver Springs lives an old negress, known to the entire surrounding country as "Aunt Silly," whose claim to being 110 years old is borne out by her appearance.Aunt Silly is wrinkled and decrepit, and the wool peeping from her bandanaed head is white as snow, while the blackness and weirdness of her face is intensified by a heavy crop of snow-white beard. As long as the oldest citizen of Ocala can remember Aunt Silly has looked just as ancient as she does now; identified always with Silver Springs, and hobbling about them from morning until night, leaning upon her short, thick staff.That she was a participant in a tragedy is known only to a very few of Ocala's oldest citizens, and seldom referred to by any of them. In the near vicinity of Ocala, when first it was settled, stood a splendid old mansion owned by Capt. Harding Douglass, a South Carolinian of considerable wealth. His only child was a son, who, with his mother's beauty of countenance, had inherited her tender, shrinking nature, and, like herself, was a slave to the old man's iron will. In the beautiful little City of Ocala lived Bernice Mayo, whose blond beauty won, at first sight, the heart of Claire Douglass. Although of Virginia ancestry, Bernice was a true child of the "Land of Flowers," passionate and impulsive. Her eyes were blue and clear as the waters of Lake Munroe, beside which she had spent her childhood, in the fair little City of Sanford. Her hair was as golden as Florida's own sunshine, and Florida's tropical splendor ran riot in her blood. For six months Bernice Mayo and Claire Douglass were constant companions, and Silver Springs was their favorite resort. For half a day at a time they would drift about on the bosom of the splendid, placid curiosity of nature.Bernice seemed never to tire of going into the depths of the subterranean world. "If I were a mermaid, Claire," she would say, "and lived in yon crystal cavern, and some fair day I should wander forth among the palmettos and mosses of the springs, and, sitting on yonder ledge of rocks, should 'comb my golden hair with a shell,' and your boat should come drifting by, and you were to see me in the water beneath, would you love me well enough to plunge, plunge to the depths beneath to woo me?" Then would Claire stop her merry chatterwith his kisses, and pledge to her his eternal love as they drifted over the transparent mirror of water, pausing now and then to study the rocks and shells, the mosses, palmettos, the fish, which were as visible eighty feet below the transparent water as were the trees and woodland about them. There is nothing fairer than Ocala's "Lover's Lane," and yet no spot held for these young people the attraction of Silver Springs, their constant trysting place. But there came a fatal day, destined to separate them. A day wherein Claire Douglass declared to his father his love for beautiful, penniless Bernice Mayo, and his determination to make her his wife. Stormily, his father vowed it should never be, and secretly planned a separation.When Claire Douglass had been speedily dispatched abroad on important business for his father, then it was that Bernice learned the truth, and her proud, delicate nature lay crushed and bleeding beneath the cruel blow and still more cruel separation.Vainly she strove to rally; all life seemed but an empty blank to her. A year dragged wearily by, and the scenes frequented by merry Bernice Mayo knew her no more. Paler and thinner she daily grew. Fragile, she was, as the white blossoms of her well-loved springs. The little chain of gold that Claire had locked on her arm would have slipped across the wasted, transparent hand, but for the ribbon that held its links. One day (her last upon earth) the girl, by dint of desperate energy, crept to Silver Springs. Even Aunt Silly was unprepared for the white, emaciated little creature who tottered into her cabin and fell fainting in her arms. Consciousness soon returned, but it was apparent even to the old black woman that death had set its gray, unmistakable seal upon the young face."Aunt Silly," gasped the girl, "I have come to you to die, and you must obey my last request; the grave divulges no secrets. Ere tonight's sun sets I shall be in heaven. This separation from the man I love has been my death, but in that death we shall be united. I have asked God, and He has heardme. But you, Aunt Silly, you must obey my request. You love me; you will do as I ask. Tonight when the moon comes out, row my body to Boiling Springs, and bury me there. You know the spot—make no mistake. Do this, and God will attend to the rest.""Good Gord A'mighty, chile, you think Aunt Silly am gwine tote dade body off in the lonesomely night?" asked the old woman, her very teeth chattering with the superstitious fear peculiar to her race. The girl realized the risk of her plan being thwarted, and raising herself to a sitting posture she seized the old woman's hands and fixed her dying eyes full on her face."Aunt Silly," she gasped, "I am a dying woman; I am very near to God; I have talked with Him, and He has answered me. My will has been crushed in life, I swear it shall not in death. Before twenty-four hours Claire Douglass shall join me in the crystal cavern of Silver Springs. If you do not grant my request every spirit of evil shall surround you. Palsied and blind you shall grow, and deaf—deaf to every sound but the ghosts of the dead, which shall pursue you by day and haunt you by night. Do you swear to obey my dying request, or will you refuse me, and reap the prophecy of a dying woman, which shall rest upon your cowardly head for refusing to obey God's will?"The old woman was shaking like an aspen. Her eyes protruded with fear, and great beads of perspiration rolled down her cheeks. The strength of the dying girl's will had prevailed, and the old woman answered: "I promises, honey; I promises."It was a solemn and awful sight that night, witnessed alone by God and nature; the boat, which drifted down Silver Springs in the moonlight, bearing its two strange occupants—the one weird, bent, grotesque; the other, so silent, so white, so pathetic, in its dead loveliness. Not a leaf was stirring, not a sound heard, but the splash, splash of the old woman's oars, as her boat, with its strange, beautiful burden, drifted over the curious, transparent body of water; drifted until itreached Boiling Springs, then veered about and stood still. Gently and easily, as if it had been a babe, the old woman lifted the little body. Something of her fear had departed in the placid smile of the dead face. Tears rolled down her dusky face as she bent forward in obedience to the girl's curious request. For a moment the body rocked to and fro on the bosom of the water, upon which its happiest moments had been spent. The dead face smiled, and the wealth of hair gleamed in the moonlight like a sheen of gold. Every pebble was visible in the depths below. Suddenly, as if by magic, the body began sinking. The boiling of the spring had ceased, showing a peculiar little fissure in the rock from whence all the strange body of water came. The fissure slowly divided, received the dead body and closed again, shutting every vestige of it from view."Gord A'mighty, dat chile a angel sho' nuff. She mus' done talked to de Lawd; she knowed how all dat gwine to be," muttered the old woman, as she rowed back to her cabin in the moonlight.A mocking-bird on the opposite shore sent forth a flood of silvery melody. "Hear dat now," muttered Aunt Silly; "dat bird done sendin' forth de weddin' song o' de bridegroom. Come on, Claire Douglass, yo' little bride am waitin' for you more pacifyin' den she waited many a long day."The day following the death of Bernice Mayo was one never to be forgotten by the citizens of Ocala. Claire Douglass had just returned after a year's absence. He found his beautiful cousin (whom his father desired to become his wife) a guest at the home of his parents."Claire," said his father as they lingered over the breakfast table, "I have a fine, new skiff at Silver Springs, and I wish you to take your cousin for a row this morning; and, by the permission of you young people, I shall make one of your party.""Delightful, uncle," cried the girl; and Claire, while he turned a trifle pale at the thought of returning to the spotwhere all that had given color to his life had transpired, could only acquiesce.Claire Douglass looked unusually handsome as the party drifted down Silver Springs in the April sunshine, but there was a curious pallor on his face, and the uncle and niece were left to carry on all the conversation. What a contrast the blooming girl in April sunshine bore to the one in the solemn moonlight, who had drifted over the same water the evening before! As the skiff neared Boiling Springs the party noted a little boat hovering over it. The boat was rowed by Aunt Silly; and its other occupant was an old woman, whose eyes were swollen with weeping. The skiff paused beside the little rowboat, and the occupants of each gazed into the curious, transparent depths below.Suddenly the niece cried out, "Oh, see, that looks like a hand; a little human hand!" Plainer and more visible it grew, the little white hand with its gold chain locked above the slender wrist. Ah, little hand, Claire Douglass would have known you among ten thousand hands! His face was white as death and he gasped as though choking. All were intent upon the scene below. Suddenly the boiling of the water ceased, and out upon a rock in its transparent depths, like a broken, beautiful lily, lay Bernice Mayo, her golden hair floating on the sand, her dead face smiling placidly, as if at last a halo of peace had descended upon the tired spirit, and the broken heart had found rest. With a wild cry that pierced even the heart of the mother, who for the last time in life gazed upon the dead face of her child, Claire Douglass dashed overboard, diving deeper, ever deeper, until he caught in his arms the little figure of his dead love.Then once more the rock divided and closed, shutting from view forever the lovers, who lay locked in each other's embrace. And again the water whirled and boiled in its mad fury, as if to defy the puny will of him who would have separated what God had joined together.As for the first time the secret bridal chamber of SilverSprings has been made known to the world, it will be interesting to its future visitors, as they approach that part of it known as "Boiling Springs," to note in the whir of the water beneath (the only part of the water not perfectly placid) the constant shower of tiny, pearl-like shells poured forth from the fissure in the rock, and which Aunt Silly says are the jewels the angels gave Bernice Mayo upon her wedding morning when her lover joined her in their fairy palace in Silver Springs. There is, too, a curious flower growing in the springs—a flower with leaf like a lily, and a blossom shaped like an orange blossom. Its peculiar waxy whiteness and yellow petals are like Bernice Mayo's face and hair, Aunt Silly says, and she calls them "Bernice Bridal Wreath." There is a legend among the young people of Ocala that a woman presented with one of these blossoms will become a bride ere the close of the year.
Near Florida's celebrated Silver Springs lives an old negress, known to the entire surrounding country as "Aunt Silly," whose claim to being 110 years old is borne out by her appearance.Aunt Silly is wrinkled and decrepit, and the wool peeping from her bandanaed head is white as snow, while the blackness and weirdness of her face is intensified by a heavy crop of snow-white beard. As long as the oldest citizen of Ocala can remember Aunt Silly has looked just as ancient as she does now; identified always with Silver Springs, and hobbling about them from morning until night, leaning upon her short, thick staff.
That she was a participant in a tragedy is known only to a very few of Ocala's oldest citizens, and seldom referred to by any of them. In the near vicinity of Ocala, when first it was settled, stood a splendid old mansion owned by Capt. Harding Douglass, a South Carolinian of considerable wealth. His only child was a son, who, with his mother's beauty of countenance, had inherited her tender, shrinking nature, and, like herself, was a slave to the old man's iron will. In the beautiful little City of Ocala lived Bernice Mayo, whose blond beauty won, at first sight, the heart of Claire Douglass. Although of Virginia ancestry, Bernice was a true child of the "Land of Flowers," passionate and impulsive. Her eyes were blue and clear as the waters of Lake Munroe, beside which she had spent her childhood, in the fair little City of Sanford. Her hair was as golden as Florida's own sunshine, and Florida's tropical splendor ran riot in her blood. For six months Bernice Mayo and Claire Douglass were constant companions, and Silver Springs was their favorite resort. For half a day at a time they would drift about on the bosom of the splendid, placid curiosity of nature.
Bernice seemed never to tire of going into the depths of the subterranean world. "If I were a mermaid, Claire," she would say, "and lived in yon crystal cavern, and some fair day I should wander forth among the palmettos and mosses of the springs, and, sitting on yonder ledge of rocks, should 'comb my golden hair with a shell,' and your boat should come drifting by, and you were to see me in the water beneath, would you love me well enough to plunge, plunge to the depths beneath to woo me?" Then would Claire stop her merry chatterwith his kisses, and pledge to her his eternal love as they drifted over the transparent mirror of water, pausing now and then to study the rocks and shells, the mosses, palmettos, the fish, which were as visible eighty feet below the transparent water as were the trees and woodland about them. There is nothing fairer than Ocala's "Lover's Lane," and yet no spot held for these young people the attraction of Silver Springs, their constant trysting place. But there came a fatal day, destined to separate them. A day wherein Claire Douglass declared to his father his love for beautiful, penniless Bernice Mayo, and his determination to make her his wife. Stormily, his father vowed it should never be, and secretly planned a separation.
When Claire Douglass had been speedily dispatched abroad on important business for his father, then it was that Bernice learned the truth, and her proud, delicate nature lay crushed and bleeding beneath the cruel blow and still more cruel separation.
Vainly she strove to rally; all life seemed but an empty blank to her. A year dragged wearily by, and the scenes frequented by merry Bernice Mayo knew her no more. Paler and thinner she daily grew. Fragile, she was, as the white blossoms of her well-loved springs. The little chain of gold that Claire had locked on her arm would have slipped across the wasted, transparent hand, but for the ribbon that held its links. One day (her last upon earth) the girl, by dint of desperate energy, crept to Silver Springs. Even Aunt Silly was unprepared for the white, emaciated little creature who tottered into her cabin and fell fainting in her arms. Consciousness soon returned, but it was apparent even to the old black woman that death had set its gray, unmistakable seal upon the young face.
"Aunt Silly," gasped the girl, "I have come to you to die, and you must obey my last request; the grave divulges no secrets. Ere tonight's sun sets I shall be in heaven. This separation from the man I love has been my death, but in that death we shall be united. I have asked God, and He has heardme. But you, Aunt Silly, you must obey my request. You love me; you will do as I ask. Tonight when the moon comes out, row my body to Boiling Springs, and bury me there. You know the spot—make no mistake. Do this, and God will attend to the rest."
"Good Gord A'mighty, chile, you think Aunt Silly am gwine tote dade body off in the lonesomely night?" asked the old woman, her very teeth chattering with the superstitious fear peculiar to her race. The girl realized the risk of her plan being thwarted, and raising herself to a sitting posture she seized the old woman's hands and fixed her dying eyes full on her face.
"Aunt Silly," she gasped, "I am a dying woman; I am very near to God; I have talked with Him, and He has answered me. My will has been crushed in life, I swear it shall not in death. Before twenty-four hours Claire Douglass shall join me in the crystal cavern of Silver Springs. If you do not grant my request every spirit of evil shall surround you. Palsied and blind you shall grow, and deaf—deaf to every sound but the ghosts of the dead, which shall pursue you by day and haunt you by night. Do you swear to obey my dying request, or will you refuse me, and reap the prophecy of a dying woman, which shall rest upon your cowardly head for refusing to obey God's will?"
The old woman was shaking like an aspen. Her eyes protruded with fear, and great beads of perspiration rolled down her cheeks. The strength of the dying girl's will had prevailed, and the old woman answered: "I promises, honey; I promises."
It was a solemn and awful sight that night, witnessed alone by God and nature; the boat, which drifted down Silver Springs in the moonlight, bearing its two strange occupants—the one weird, bent, grotesque; the other, so silent, so white, so pathetic, in its dead loveliness. Not a leaf was stirring, not a sound heard, but the splash, splash of the old woman's oars, as her boat, with its strange, beautiful burden, drifted over the curious, transparent body of water; drifted until itreached Boiling Springs, then veered about and stood still. Gently and easily, as if it had been a babe, the old woman lifted the little body. Something of her fear had departed in the placid smile of the dead face. Tears rolled down her dusky face as she bent forward in obedience to the girl's curious request. For a moment the body rocked to and fro on the bosom of the water, upon which its happiest moments had been spent. The dead face smiled, and the wealth of hair gleamed in the moonlight like a sheen of gold. Every pebble was visible in the depths below. Suddenly, as if by magic, the body began sinking. The boiling of the spring had ceased, showing a peculiar little fissure in the rock from whence all the strange body of water came. The fissure slowly divided, received the dead body and closed again, shutting every vestige of it from view.
"Gord A'mighty, dat chile a angel sho' nuff. She mus' done talked to de Lawd; she knowed how all dat gwine to be," muttered the old woman, as she rowed back to her cabin in the moonlight.
A mocking-bird on the opposite shore sent forth a flood of silvery melody. "Hear dat now," muttered Aunt Silly; "dat bird done sendin' forth de weddin' song o' de bridegroom. Come on, Claire Douglass, yo' little bride am waitin' for you more pacifyin' den she waited many a long day."
The day following the death of Bernice Mayo was one never to be forgotten by the citizens of Ocala. Claire Douglass had just returned after a year's absence. He found his beautiful cousin (whom his father desired to become his wife) a guest at the home of his parents.
"Claire," said his father as they lingered over the breakfast table, "I have a fine, new skiff at Silver Springs, and I wish you to take your cousin for a row this morning; and, by the permission of you young people, I shall make one of your party."
"Delightful, uncle," cried the girl; and Claire, while he turned a trifle pale at the thought of returning to the spotwhere all that had given color to his life had transpired, could only acquiesce.
Claire Douglass looked unusually handsome as the party drifted down Silver Springs in the April sunshine, but there was a curious pallor on his face, and the uncle and niece were left to carry on all the conversation. What a contrast the blooming girl in April sunshine bore to the one in the solemn moonlight, who had drifted over the same water the evening before! As the skiff neared Boiling Springs the party noted a little boat hovering over it. The boat was rowed by Aunt Silly; and its other occupant was an old woman, whose eyes were swollen with weeping. The skiff paused beside the little rowboat, and the occupants of each gazed into the curious, transparent depths below.
Suddenly the niece cried out, "Oh, see, that looks like a hand; a little human hand!" Plainer and more visible it grew, the little white hand with its gold chain locked above the slender wrist. Ah, little hand, Claire Douglass would have known you among ten thousand hands! His face was white as death and he gasped as though choking. All were intent upon the scene below. Suddenly the boiling of the water ceased, and out upon a rock in its transparent depths, like a broken, beautiful lily, lay Bernice Mayo, her golden hair floating on the sand, her dead face smiling placidly, as if at last a halo of peace had descended upon the tired spirit, and the broken heart had found rest. With a wild cry that pierced even the heart of the mother, who for the last time in life gazed upon the dead face of her child, Claire Douglass dashed overboard, diving deeper, ever deeper, until he caught in his arms the little figure of his dead love.
Then once more the rock divided and closed, shutting from view forever the lovers, who lay locked in each other's embrace. And again the water whirled and boiled in its mad fury, as if to defy the puny will of him who would have separated what God had joined together.
As for the first time the secret bridal chamber of SilverSprings has been made known to the world, it will be interesting to its future visitors, as they approach that part of it known as "Boiling Springs," to note in the whir of the water beneath (the only part of the water not perfectly placid) the constant shower of tiny, pearl-like shells poured forth from the fissure in the rock, and which Aunt Silly says are the jewels the angels gave Bernice Mayo upon her wedding morning when her lover joined her in their fairy palace in Silver Springs. There is, too, a curious flower growing in the springs—a flower with leaf like a lily, and a blossom shaped like an orange blossom. Its peculiar waxy whiteness and yellow petals are like Bernice Mayo's face and hair, Aunt Silly says, and she calls them "Bernice Bridal Wreath." There is a legend among the young people of Ocala that a woman presented with one of these blossoms will become a bride ere the close of the year.