Chapter XXXIX: Bob’s Spectre

It was about to speak when the cock crew,
And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons.—SHAKSPEARE.

“Come into the library, if you please, Dr. Burney. I wish to send for old Bob, and confront him with you, and clear up this mystery of the midnight visitor,” said Justin, leading the way to the favorite room.

“Nonsense, my young friend. There is no mystery in the matter. Our honest old Bob supped off pork chops and had the nightmare and dreamed of a visitor,” laughed the doctor, as he followed the colonel.

“These two persons of very opposite characters and positions must have had the nightmare at the same time and dreamed the same dream,” said Justin, as he opened the library door.

When the two gentlemen entered this favorite room, they found Britomarte and Elfie, waiting for the termination of the doctor’s visit to Erminie before they should return to her side.

They now arose and received the doctor’s greetings and congratulations upon the convalescence of their friend, and then they were about to withdraw, when Justin stopped them.

“Remain, if you please, for a few moments, young ladies. I am about to call up old Robert and confront him with Dr. Burney and investigate this affair of the nocturnal visitor,” he said.

“But I thought that was already settled. It was the doctor who came in the night, was it not?” inquired Britomarte.

“No, my dear Miss Conyers, whoever it was, it was not the doctor,” replied the gentleman in question.

Justin rang the bell, and old Bob answered it.

“Sit down, doctor. Young ladies, pray resume your seats,” said Justin, as he set the example by placing himself in a chair.

Bob stood in the door, waiting orders.

“Come here,” said Colonel Rosenthal.

The man obeyed, looking puzzled and frightened and very much like a prisoner who was arraigned and who expected to be found guilty.

“Now tell us who it was that you let in last night.”

“The doctor there, sar,” answered Bob, without a moment’s hesitation.

“My good friend, you never were more mistaken in your life. I can prove an alibi. I was six miles from the spot at the hour you admitted the visitor,” said Dr. Burney.

Old Bob’s jaws dropped and his eyes opened.

“Is that so, sar?” he asked, in a piteous tone.

“Yes, that _is_ so. Now try to recollect yourself and reflect whether you did not fall asleep and dream the whole thing.”

“No, marser! no, sar! it might a been de debbil, or it might a been a ghost, or it might a been a token of my death, but it warn’t no dream. Dis chile war too wide awake for dat!” exclaimed Bob, as his hair seemed to straighten out with a retrospective terror.

“Now see you here, Bob. Look at me, and tell me really whether the person you admitted, or think you admitted, resembled me,” said Dr. Burney.

“Lor’ forgive me, Marse Doctor, now I does look at you, sar, and calls up my memorandum, it seems to me as the—the—_other one_—was more taller and more darker complected than you is, sar. It must a been a spirit, sar, come to warn me as my days war numbered,” shuddered the old man.

“Fudge, old fellow! All our days are numbered, for that matter.—Colonel”—and here the doctor turned to address Justin—“you said that there was another witness in this case—who was it?”

“Elfie,” said Justin, “have I your permission to speak?”

“Yes, certainly,” replied the young lady addressed.

“Well, then, Mrs. Goldsborough was the other witness. At the same hour at which old Bob admitted the mysterious visitor, Mrs. Goldsborough was watching by the bed of my sister, when she was suddenly aware of the presence of a man by her side. Taking him at first to be myself, she was about to speak, when, on looking closer, she recognized, or _thinks_ she recognized, the Rebel General Eastworth, supposed to have been killed at Charleston.”

“I am quite certain I recognized him,” put in Elfie.

“Well, then, she is quite certain she recognized him. She was at first so stupefied with astonishment that she could not call out. And before she could recover her self-possession and give the alarm, he applied chloroform to her nostrils, and deprived her of the power of moving and speaking, although not of hearing and seeing.”

“I heard and saw everything that occurred in the first few minutes of his presence there,” added Elfie.

“She asserts that he spoke to my sister, succeeded even in arousing her attention, and calling her back to full, though transient consciousness, and gaining her forgiveness and her blessing.”

“And by that time,” added Elfie, “the chloroform that he had secured under my nostrils so completely overcame me, that I knew nothing more until Britomarte aroused me.”

“And is that all?” inquired the doctor.

“Yes, and enough, too, I should think,” answered Elfie.

“And what is your opinion of all this, Colonel?” inquired the doctor.

“I am perplexed beyond measure, and as yet can form no possible opinion. General Eastworth has been in Charleston, South Carolina, for the last twelve months. He is reported to have been killed within the last week. I can make nothing of it.”

“_I_ am not perplexed. _I_ can make something of it. I believe that General Eastworth is in Washington city in disguise, that he has become acquainted with the notorious fact of Erminie’s illness, and also with the less well known facts of the doctor’s frequent night calls, and old Bob’s position in the front hall, to open the front door at all hours, and I believe that he boldly ventured in to see his once betrothed. Bosh! who do you think is a fool? Didn’t I see and hear him with my own eyes and ears? True, I was staggered in my conviction of identity when old Bob insisted that it was the doctor he let in; but now that the doctor says it was not he, I am convinced it was General Eastworth, and that General Eastworth is now in Washington city, as a spy, most likely,” said Elfie, with great positiveness.

“Pray, have you read the morning papers, Miss—I beg your pardon—Mrs. Goldsborough?” emphatically inquired the doctor.

“I have not,” said Elfie; “why?”

“Nor you, colonel?” he next asked of Justin.

“I have glanced over them only. We have all been too much occupied with my sister to read them with much attention or interest,” replied Justin.

“Then probably this little paragraph, concerning the gentleman we have been discussing, has escaped your attention.”

“What is it?” inquired Elfie.

“Read it,” said Justin.

The doctor opened the paper he held in his hand and read:

“THE REBEL GENERAL EASTWORTH.—The report of the death of this notorious leader is undoubtedly well founded. The Reverend Doctor Robinson, returned from Charleston under a flag of truce, confirms the tale. On the morning of the twelfth instant General Eastworth, while riding along the eastern defences of the city, was instantly killed by a shell from one of our gun-boats.”

“There,” said the doctor, folding up the paper—“what do you think of that?”

No one answered. Every one seemed dumb-foundered.

Old Bob was the first to break the silence. Seeing amazement on every face, he gasped out:

“Wha—wha—wha—wha—what does all dat mean?”

“It means that you let in a ghost, Uncle Bob!” exclaimed Elfie, mischievously.

“Wha—wha—wha—what ghost?” stammered the old man, with chattering teeth, starting eyes, and ashen cheeks.

“The ghost of the Rebel General Eastworth, who was killed in Charleston,” said Elfie.

“Oh, my Lor’! my Lor’! my Lor’! I’m a dead nigger!” exclaimed old Bob, with all the superstitious terrors of his race strong upon him.

“You may leave the room, Bob,” said Colonel Rosenthal.

And the old man hurried away to tell the wonderful story in the kitchen, and then to betake himself to his prayers.

“Now, then, Mrs. Goldsborough, what do you say?” inquired the doctor.

“I say that I am of the same opinion still. I believe that story of General Eastworth’s death to be a mere canard, or more than that, a stratagem to cover his surreptitious visit to Washington. I tell you I saw and heard him with my own eyes and ears; and I am willing to go before the provost marshal and lodge the information under oath, that the great Rebel general was in Washington city, and in this house, last night between the hours of one and two! If you think my story wants confirmation, let Justin question his sister as to who her visitor last night was. I was strongly tempted to do so myself; but I refrained from consideration for Erminie’s weak state. But let Justin question her now.”

“Thanks—no, if you please,” said the doctor, emphatically—“not with my sanction. Colonel Rosenthal and ladies, I must earnestly request you not even to allude to this strange event in my patient’s hearing. In every point of view, the subject would be a dangerously exciting one to her. But I strongly advise you to have the cash-box and plate chest examined, and a detective policeman sent for. With all respect for your opinion, Mrs. Goldsborough, I must believe that an accomplished burglar has found his way into the house, and probably effected a robbery.”

And with these words the doctor turned to Miss Conyers, silently placed a packet and letter in her hands, took up his hat, shook hands with his friends, and went away.

“It will do no harm to follow his advice, Elfie,” said Justin, touching the bell once more. “We will see if there is anything missing. If there has been a robbery, it will be clear that the strange visitor was a burglar. If there has been no robbery, there will be no harm in your going to the provost marshal and giving the information as you suggest.”

Old Frederica answered the bell, and apologized for presenting herself by saying:

“If you please, sir, black Bob, he’s not in a fit state to come; he’s perfectly glowered with the fright.”

“Never mind, Frederica; you’ll do. We have reason to suspect that a robber got into the house last night. Have you missed anything?”

“Lor’, sir, no—not a thing.”

“Make a thorough search; and especially make a careful examination of the plate chest; and then come and report to me.”

Frederica left the room to obey.

And then the group broke up.

Justin went to look to the iron chest where money and documents were kept.

Britomarte, with a face paler than usual, withdrew to examine the letter and parcel placed in her hands by the doctor.

Elfie went back to the chamber of Erminie.

Meanwhile a thorough search was made of the premises. Not an article was missing. No robbery had been perpetrated. No vestige of a robber was to be found. And the mystery thickened.

When Elfie came out of Erminie’s room, she found Justin on the watch for her.

“Come here, my dear girl,” he whispered, withdrawing her out of earshot of Erminie’s attendants. “I am inclined to be of your opinion in this matter. The result of our investigation is that no trace of a burglar can be found. Therefore I think your conjecture as to the presence of General Eastworth in the city, and his identity with the mysterious visitor of last night, may be founded in truth. His intimate knowledge of the interior arrangements of our house would certainly favor his visiting it in that secret manner.”

“When I discovered that the visitor was not the doctor, I was convinced that it was Eastworth who came. I have not had a doubt about the matter since,” said Elfie.

“Then you had better come with me and give information at the provost marshal’s office directly.”

“Bless my soul and body! Well, I said I was willing to go, and I’ll go; but now it comes to the point I don’t like the office at all,” said Elfie, as she hurried off to get her bonnet and mantle.

In a few minutes Justin took her out in a carriage to do the disagreeable duty he had recommended. They were gone but an hour, at the end of which Elfie returned in rather a bad humor, and Justin with a very grave face.

They had both been subjected to a close cross examination.

Elfie threw off her bonnet and mantle, and hurried into the room of Erminie, whom she found quietly sleeping.

Catherine had the watch.

“Where is Miss Conyers?” inquired Elfie.

“I don’t know, ma’am. She hasn’t been in this room since breakfast.”

“Strange! I’ll go and look for her,” said Elfie, rising, to leave the chamber.

But at the door she met Britomarte, in a travelling dress, and looking very pale and haggard.

“For Heaven’s sake, what is the matter?” exclaimed Elfie, starting back.

“Is Erminie awake?” inquired Miss Conyers, disregarding her friend’s question.

“No; but what is the matter with you, Britomarte?”

“I have had news that will compel me to leave you to-day.”

“To leave us to-day!”

“Yes; but I must wait until Erminie awakes to take leave of her.”

“Woman of mystery! what is your news and where are you going?” exclaimed Elfie, half in pity half in mirth.

“You must excuse me from explaining, Elfie. You know, for I have told you, that there is a secret in my life. You must respect it,” said Britomarte, gravely.

“There is more than one secret, I imagine. Well, I will respect them all, Britomarte,” said her companion.

While they spoke, Erminie awoke, very much refreshed by her nap.

“How do you feel, dearest?” inquired Miss Conyers.

“Very well—full of returning life. But you—you look pale and sad, Britomarte. What troubles you?” anxiously inquired Erminie.

“The duty of leaving you immediately, my darling. No, do not say a word to hinder me, love. You know that nothing but the most absolute necessity could induce me to go now; and that I must go,” said Miss Conyers, seeing that her friend was about to expostulate.

“Well, well, I must submit, I suppose! but you will come back soon?” sighed Erminie.

“As soon as possible, love! And now God bless you, darling, and send you a full and speedy recovery!” said Miss Conyers, stooping and kissing her friend.

“And God keep you in all your ways, my best beloved,” breathed Erminie, returning the caress.

“Good-bye, Elfie!” said Britomarte, as she wrung Elfrida’s hand and left the room.

On her way to the library to seek Justin, she met him in the hall.

“Good-bye, Justin!” she exclaimed, holding out her hand.

“What!” he cried.

“Good-bye!”

“You don’t mean it!”

“Yes, I do!”

“Where are you going?”

“About my business, Justin,” sadly smiled Miss Conyers.

“But—excuse me!—What business?”

“That is my secret, if you please, Justin”

“Pardon my impertinence,” said Colonel Rosenthal, with a mortified air; “but I hoped to speak to you, Britomarte, on that one subject which day and night has occupied my thoughts since I first met you!” he said, taking her hand and seeking to detain her.

“Let that subject rest, if not forever, at least till after the war is over.”

“And then?”

“Then we may neither of us wish to resume it.”

“Britomarte, are you not wantonly trifling with my happiness and yours?”

“I have no time for ‘trifling’ of any sort. It would be well, besides, if we thought a little less of ‘happiness,’ and a little more of duty. Justin, my carriage is waiting to take me to the station, where I must not miss the train. Good-bye!” said Britomarte, withdrawing her hand from his clasp.

“No, let me see you to the station, at least,” said Justin, taking his hat, opening the hall door, and escorting her to the carriage, into which he followed her.

They caught the train just before it started.

Miss Conyers had no luggage but a hand-bag, and therefore she was the more easily enabled to get into her seat in the ladies’ car in time.

Justin bade her a hasty adieu, and returned home.

* * * * *

As soon as Erminie was convalescent Justin took leave of her and returned to his regiment. And in the course of a few weeks, two or more of our young friends went to the front—little Mim as a volunteer, and Mr. Billingcoo as a drafted man.