j s le fanu's ghostly tales, volume 2 by joesph sheridan le fanu

8/14/2019 J S Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 2 by Joesph Sheridan Le Fanu

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/j-s-le-fanus-ghostly-tales-volume-2-by-joesph-sheridan-le-fanu 1/35

The Project Gutenberg eBook, J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 2, byJoseph Sheridan Le Fanu

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

Title: J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 2

Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

Release Date: March 24, 2004 [eBook #11700]

Language: English

Character set encoding: iso-8859-1

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK J. S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES,VOLUME 2***

E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Andrea Ball, and the Project GutenbergOnline Distributed Proofreading Team

J. S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES, VOLUME 2

An Authentic Narrative of a Haunted House (1862)

and

Ultor De Lacy: A Legend of Cappercullen (1861)

by

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

An Authentic Narrative ofa Haunted House

[The Editor of the UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE submits the following veryremarkable statement, with every detail of which he has been for someyears acquainted, upon the ground that it affords the most authentic and



ample relation of a series of marvellous phenoma, in nowise connectedwith what is technically termed "spiritualism," which he has anywheremet with. All the persons--and there are many of them living--upon whoseseparate evidence some parts, and upon whose united testimony others, ofthis most singular recital depend, are, in their several walks of life,respectable, and such as would in any matter of judicial investigationbe deemed wholly unexceptionable witnesses. There is not an incidenthere recorded which would not have been distinctly deposed to on oath

had any necessity existed, by the persons who severally, and some ofthem in great fear, related their own distinct experiences. The Editorbegs most pointedly to meet _in limine_ the suspicion, that he iselaborating a trick, or vouching for another ghost of Mrs. Veal. As amere story the narrative is valueless: its sole claim to attention isits absolute truth. For the good faith of its relator he pledges his ownand the character of this Magazine. With the Editor's concurrence, thename of the watering-place, and some special circumstances in noessential way bearing upon the peculiar character of the story, butwhich might have indicated the locality, and possibly annoyed personsinterested in house property there, have been suppressed by thenarrator. Not the slightest liberty has been taken with the narrative,which is presented precisely in the terms in which the writer of it, who

employs throughout the first person, would, if need were, fix it in theform of an affidavit.]

Within the last eight years--the precise date I purposely omit--I I wasordered by my physician, my health being in an unsatisfactory state, tochange my residence to one upon the sea-coast; and accordingly, I took ahouse for a year in a fashionable watering-place, at a moderate distancefrom the city in which I had previously resided, and connected with itby a railway.

Winter was setting in when my removal thither was decided upon; butthere was nothing whatever dismal or depressing in the change. The house

I had taken was to all appearance, and in point of convenience, too,quite a modern one. It formed one in a cheerful row, with small gardensin front, facing the sea, and commanding sea air and sea views inperfection. In the rear it had coach-house and stable, and between themand the house a considerable grass-plot, with some flower-beds,interposed.

Our family consisted of my wife and myself, with three children, theeldest about nine years old, she and the next in age being girls; andthe youngest, between six and seven, a boy. To these were added sixservants, whom, although for certain reasons I decline giving their realnames, I shall indicate, for the sake of clearness, by arbitrary ones.There was a nurse, Mrs. Southerland; a nursery-maid, Ellen Page; the

cook, Mrs. Greenwood; and the housemaid, Ellen Faith; a butler, whom Ishall call Smith, and his son, James, about two-and-twenty.

We came out to take possession at about seven o'clock in the evening;every thing was comfortable and cheery; good fires lighted, the roomsneat and airy, and a general air of preparation and comfort, highlyconducive to good spirits and pleasant anticipations.

The sitting-rooms were large and cheerful, and they and the bed-roomsmore than ordinarily lofty, the kitchen and servants' rooms, on the samelevel, were well and comfortably furnished, and had, like the rest of



the house, an air of recent painting and fitting up, and a completelymodern character, which imparted a very cheerful air of cleanliness andconvenience.

There had been just enough of the fuss of settling agreeably to occupyus, and to give a pleasant turn to our thoughts after we had retired toour rooms. Being an invalid, I had a small bed to myself--resigning thefour-poster to my wife. The candle was extinguished, but a night-light

was burning. I was coming up stairs, and she, already in bed, had justdismissed her maid, when we were both startled by a wild scream from herroom; I found her in a state of the extremest agitation and terror. Sheinsisted that she had seen an unnaturally tall figure come beside herbed and stand there. The light was too faint to enable her to define anything respecting this apparition, beyond the fact of her having mostdistinctly seen such a shape, colourless from the insufficiency of thelight to disclose more than its dark outline.

We both endeavoured to re-assure her. The room once more looked socheerful in the candlelight, that we were quite uninfluenced by thecontagion of her terrors. The movements and voices of the servants downstairs still getting things into their places and completing our

comfortable arrangements, had also their effect in steeling us againstany such influence, and we set the whole thing down as a dream, or animperfectly-seen outline of the bed-curtains. When, however, we werealone, my wife reiterated, still in great agitation, her clear assertionthat she had most positively seen, being at the time as completely awakeas ever she was, precisely what she had described to us. And in thisconviction she continued perfectly firm.

A day or two after this, it came out that our servants were under anapprehension that, somehow or other, thieves had established a secretmode of access to the lower part of the house. The butler, Smith, hadseen an ill-looking woman in his room on the first night of our arrival;and he and other servants constantly saw, for many days subsequently,

glimpses of a retreating figure, which corresponded with that so seen byhim, passing through a passage which led to a back area in which weresome coal-vaults.

This figure was seen always in the act of retreating, its back turned,generally getting round the corner of the passage into the area, in astealthy and hurried way, and, when closely followed, imperfectly seenagain entering one of the coal-vaults, and when pursued into it, nowhereto be found.

The idea of any thing supernatural in the matter had, strange to say,not yet entered the mind of any one of the servants. They had heard somestories of smugglers having secret passages into houses, and using their

means of access for purposes of pillage, or with a view to frightensuperstitious people out of houses which they needed for their ownobjects, and a suspicion of similar practices here, caused them extremeuneasiness. The apparent anxiety also manifested by this retreatingfigure to escape observation, and her always appearing to make heregress at the same point, favoured this romantic hypothesis. The men,however, made a most careful examination of the back area, and of thecoal-vaults, with a view to discover some mode of egress, but entirelywithout success. On the contrary, the result was, so far as it went,subversive of the theory; solid masonry met them on every hand.



I called the man, Smith, up, to hear from his own lips the particularsof what he had seen; and certainly his report was very curious. I giveit as literally as my memory enables me:----

His son slept in the same room, and was sound asleep; but he lay awake,as men sometimes will on a change of bed, and having many things on hismind. He was lying with his face towards the wall, but observing a lightand some little stir in the room, he turned round in his bed, and saw

the figure of a woman, squalid, and ragged in dress; her figure ratherlow and broad; as well as I recollect, she had something--either a cloakor shawl--on, and wore a bonnet. Her back was turned, and she appearedto be searching or rummaging for something on the floor, and, withoutappearing to observe him, she turned in doing so towards him. The light,which was more like the intense glow of a coal, as he described it,being of a deep red colour, proceeded from the hollow of her hand, whichshe held beside her head, and he saw her perfectly distinctly. Sheappeared middle-aged, was deeply pitted with the smallpox, and blind ofone eye. His phrase in describing her general appearance was, that shewas "a miserable, poor-looking creature."

He was under the impression that she must be the woman who had been left

by the proprietor in charge of the house, and who had that evening,after having given up the keys, remained for some little time with thefemale servants. He coughed, therefore, to apprize her of his presence,and turned again towards the wall. When he again looked round she andthe light were gone; and odd as was her method of lighting herself inher search, the circumstances excited neither uneasiness nor curiosityin his mind, until he discovered next morning that the woman in questionhad left the house long before he had gone to his bed.

I examined the man very closely as to the appearance of the person whohad visited him, and the result was what I have described. It struck meas an odd thing, that even then, considering how prone to superstitionpersons in his rank of life usually are, he did not seem to suspect any

thing supernatural in the occurrence; and, on the contrary, wasthoroughly persuaded that his visitant was a living person, who had gotinto the house by some hidden entrance.

On Sunday, on his return from his place of worship, he told me that,when the service was ended, and the congregation making their way slowlyout, he saw the very woman in the crowd, and kept his eye upon her forseveral minutes, but such was the crush, that all his efforts to reachher were unavailing, and when he got into the open street she was gone.He was quite positive as to his having distinctly seen her, however,for several minutes, and scouted the possibility of any mistake as toidentity; and fully impressed with the substantial and living reality ofhis visitant, he was very much provoked at her having escaped him. He

made inquiries also in the neighbourhood, but could procure noinformation, nor hear of any other persons having seen any womancorresponding with his visitant.

The cook and the housemaid occupied a bed-room on the kitchen floor. Ithad whitewashed walls, and they were actually terrified by theappearance of the shadow of a woman passing and repassing across theside wall opposite to their beds. They suspected that this had beengoing on much longer than they were aware, for its presence wasdiscovered by a sort of accident, its movements happening to take adirection in distinct contrariety to theirs.



This shadow always moved upon one particular wall, returning after shortintervals, and causing them extreme terror. They placed the candle, asthe most obvious specific, so close to the infested wall, that the flameall but touched it; and believed for some time that they had effectuallygot rid of this annoyance; but one night, notwithstanding thisarrangement of the light, the shadow returned, passing and repassing, asheretofore, upon the same wall, although their only candle was burning

within an inch of it, and it was obvious that no substance capable ofcasting such a shadow could have interposed; and, indeed, as theydescribed it, the shadow seemed to have no sort of relation to theposition of the light, and appeared, as I have said, in manifestdefiance of the laws of optics.

I ought to mention that the housemaid was a particularly fearless sortof person, as well as a very honest one; and her companion, the cook, ascrupulously religious woman, and both agreed in every particular intheir relation of what occurred.

Meanwhile, the nursery was not without its annoyances, though as yet ofa comparatively trivial kind. Sometimes, at night, the handle of the

door was turned hurriedly as if by a person trying to come in, and atothers a knocking was made at it. These sounds occurred after thechildren had settled to sleep, and while the nurse still remained awake.Whenever she called to know "who is there," the sounds ceased; butseveral times, and particularly at first, she was under the impressionthat they were caused by her mistress, who had come to see the children,and thus impressed she had got up and opened the door, expecting to seeher, but discovering only darkness, and receiving no answer to herinquiries.

With respect to this nurse, I must mention that I believe no moreperfectly trustworthy servant was ever employed in her capacity; and, inaddition to her integrity, she was remarkably gifted with sound common

sense.

One morning, I think about three or four weeks after our arrival, I wassitting at the parlour window which looked to the front, when I saw thelittle iron door which admitted into the small garden that lay betweenthe window where I was sitting and the public road, pushed open by awoman who so exactly answered the description given by Smith of thewoman who had visited his room on the night of his arrival asinstantaneously to impress me with the conviction that she must be theidentical person. She was a square, short woman, dressed in soiled andtattered clothes, scarred and pitted with small-pox, and blind of aneye. She stepped hurriedly into the little enclosure, and peered from adistance of a few yards into the room where I was sitting. I felt that

now was the moment to clear the matter up; but there was somethingstealthy in the manner and look of the woman which convinced me that Imust not appear to notice her until her retreat was fairly cut off.Unfortunately, I was suffering from a lame foot, and could not reach thebell as quickly as I wished. I made all the haste I could, and rangviolently to bring up the servant Smith. In the short interval thatintervened, I observed the woman from the window, who having in aleisurely way, and with a kind of scrutiny, looked along the frontwindows of the house, passed quickly out again, closing the gate afterher, and followed a lady who was walking along the footpath at a quickpace, as if with the intention of begging from her. The moment the man



entered I told him--"the blind woman you described to me has thisinstant followed a lady in that direction, try to overtake her." He was,if possible, more eager than I in the chase, but returned in a shorttime after a vain pursuit, very hot, and utterly disappointed. And,thereafter, we saw her face no more.

All this time, and up to the period of our leaving the house, which wasnot for two or three months later, there occurred at intervals the only

phenomenon in the entire series having any resemblance to what we heardescribed of "Spiritualism." This was a knocking, like a soft hammeringwith a wooden mallet, as it seemed in the timbers between the bedroomceilings and the roof. It had this special peculiarity, that it wasalways rythmical, and, I think, invariably, the emphasis upon the laststroke. It would sound rapidly "one, two, three, _four_--one, two,three, _four_;" or "one, two, _three_--one, two, _three_," and sometimes"one, _two_--one, _two_," &c., and this, with intervals andresumptions, monotonously for hours at a time.

At first this caused my wife, who was a good deal confined to her bed,much annoyance; and we sent to our neighbours to inquire if anyhammering or carpentering was going on in their houses but were informed

that nothing of the sort was taking place. I have myself heard itfrequently, always in the same inaccessible part of the house, and withthe same monotonous emphasis. One odd thing about it was, that on mywife's calling out, as she used to do when it became more than usuallytroublesome, "stop that noise," it was invariably arrested for a longeror shorter time.

Of course none of these occurrences were ever mentioned in hearing ofthe children. They would have been, no doubt, like most children,greatly terrified had they heard any thing of the matter, and known thattheir elders were unable to account for what was passing; and theirfears would have made them wretched and troublesome.

They used to play for some hours every day in the back garden--the houseforming one end of this oblong inclosure, the stable and coach-house theother, and two parallel walls of considerable height the sides. Here, asit afforded a perfectly safe playground, they were frequently left quiteto themselves; and in talking over their days' adventures, as childrenwill, they happened to mention a woman, or rather the woman, for theyhad long grown familiar with her appearance, whom they used to see inthe garden while they were at play. They assumed that she came in andwent out at the stable door, but they never actually saw her enter ordepart. They merely saw a figure--that of a very poor woman, soiled andragged--near the stable wall, stooping over the ground, and apparentlygrubbing in the loose clay in search of something. She did not disturb,or appear to observe them; and they left her in undisturbed possession

of her nook of ground. When seen it was always in the same spot, andsimilarly occupied; and the description they gave of her generalappearance--for they never saw her face--corresponded with that of theone-eyed woman whom Smith, and subsequently as it seemed, I had seen.

The other man, James, who looked after a mare which I had purchased forthe purpose of riding exercise, had, like every one else in the house,his little trouble to report, though it was not much. The stall inwhich, as the most comfortable, it was decided to place her, sheperemptorily declined to enter. Though a very docile and gentle littleanimal, there was no getting her into it. She would snort and rear, and,



in fact, do or suffer any thing rather than set her hoof in it. He wasfain, therefore, to place her in another. And on several occasions hefound her there, exhibiting all the equine symptoms of extreme fear.Like the rest of us, however, this man was not troubled in theparticular case with any superstitious qualms. The mare had evidentlybeen frightened; and he was puzzled to find out how, or by whom, for thestable was well-secured, and had, I am nearly certain, a lock-up yardoutside.

One morning I was greeted with the intelligence that robbers hadcertainly got into the house in the night; and that one of them hadactually been seen in the nursery. The witness, I found, was my eldestchild, then, as I have said, about nine years of age. Having awoke inthe night, and lain awake for some time in her bed, she heard the handleof the door turn, and a person whom she distinctly saw--for it was alight night, and the window-shutters unclosed--but whom she had neverseen before, stepped in on tiptoe, and with an appearance of greatcaution. He was a rather small man, with a very red face; he wore anoddly cut frock coat, the collar of which stood up, and trousers, roughand wide, like those of a sailor, turned up at the ankles, and eithershort boots or clumsy shoes, covered with mud. This man listened beside

the nurse's bed, which stood next the door, as if to satisfy himselfthat she was sleeping soundly; and having done so for some seconds, hebegan to move cautiously in a diagonal line, across the room to thechimney-piece, where he stood for a while, and so resumed his tiptoewalk, skirting the wall, until he reached a chest of drawers, some ofwhich were open, and into which he looked, and began to rummage in ahurried way, as the child supposed, making search for something worthtaking away. He then passed on to the window, where was adressing-table, at which he also stopped, turning over the things uponit, and standing for some time at the window as if looking out, and thenresuming his walk by the side wall opposite to that by which he hadmoved up to the window, he returned in the same way toward the nurse'sbed, so as to reach it at the foot. With its side to the end wall, in

which was the door, was placed the little bed in which lay my eldestchild, who watched his proceedings with the extremest terror. As he drewnear she instinctively moved herself in the bed, with her head andshoulders to the wall, drawing up her feet; but he passed by withoutappearing to observe, or, at least, to care for her presence.Immediately after the nurse turned in her bed as if about to waken; andwhen the child, who had drawn the clothes about her head, again venturedto peep out, the man was gone.

The child had no idea of her having seen any thing more formidable thana thief. With the prowling, cautious, and noiseless manner of proceedingcommon to such marauders, the air and movements of the man whom she hadseen entirely corresponded. And on hearing her perfectly distinct and

consistent account, I could myself arrive at no other conclusion thanthat a stranger had actually got into the house. I had, therefore, inthe first instance, a most careful examination made to discover anytraces of an entrance having been made by any window into the house. Thedoors had been found barred and locked as usual; but no sign of anything of the sort was discernible. I then had the variousarticles--plate, wearing apparel, books, &c., counted; and after havingconned over and reckoned up every thing, it became quite clear thatnothing whatever had been removed from the house, nor was there theslightest indication of any thing having been so much as disturbedthere. I must here state that this child was remarkably clear,



intelligent, and observant; and that her description of the man, and ofall that had occurred, was most exact, and as detailed as the want ofperfect light rendered possible.

I felt assured that an entrance had actually been effected into thehouse, though for what purpose was not easily to be conjectured. Theman, Smith, was equally confident upon this point; and his theory wasthat the object was simply to frighten us out of the house by making us

believe it haunted; and he was more than ever anxious and on the alertto discover the conspirators. It often since appeared to me odd. Everyyear, indeed, more odd, as this cumulative case of the marvellousbecomes to my mind more and more inexplicable--that underlying my senseof mystery and puzzle, was all along the quiet assumption that all theseoccurrences were one way or another referable to natural causes. I couldnot account for them, indeed, myself; but during the whole period Iinhabited that house, I never once felt, though much alone, and often upvery late at night, any of those tremors and thrills which every one hasat times experienced when situation and the hour are favourable. Exceptthe cook and housemaid, who were plagued with the shadow I mentionedcrossing and recrossing upon the bedroom wall, we all, withoutexception, experienced the same strange sense of security, and regarded

these phenomena rather with a perplexed sort of interest and curiosity,than with any more unpleasant sensations.

The knockings which I have mentioned at the nursery door, precededgenerally by the sound of a step on the lobby, meanwhile continued. Atthat time (for my wife, like myself, was an invalid) two eminentphysicians, who came out occasionally by rail, were attending us. Thesegentlemen were at first only amused, but ultimately interested, and verymuch puzzled by the occurrences which we described. One of them, atlast, recommended that a candle should be kept burning upon the lobby.It was in fact a recurrence to an old woman's recipe against ghosts--ofcourse it might be serviceable, too, against impostors; at all events,seeming, as I have said, very much interested and puzzled, he advised

it, and it was tried. We fancied that it was successful; for there wasan interval of quiet for, I think, three or four nights. But after that,the noises--the footsteps on the lobby--the knocking at the door, andthe turning of the handle recommenced in full force, notwithstanding thelight upon the table outside; and these particular phenomena became onlymore perplexing than ever.

The alarm of robbers and smugglers gradually subsided after a week ortwo; but we were again to hear news from the nursery. Our second littlegirl, then between seven and eight years of age, saw in the nighttime--she alone being awake--a young woman, with black, or very darkhair, which hung loose, and with a black cloak on, standing near themiddle of the floor, opposite the hearthstone, and fronting the foot of

her bed. She appeared quite unobservant of the children and nursesleeping in the room. She was very pale, and looked, the child said,both "sorry and frightened," and with something very peculiar andterrible about her eyes, which made the child conclude that she wasdead. She was looking, not at, but in the direction of the child's bed,and there was a dark streak across her throat, like a scar with bloodupon it. This figure was not motionless; but once or twice turnedslowly, and without appearing to be conscious of the presence of thechild, or the other occupants of the room, like a person in vacancy orabstraction. There was on this occasion a night-light burning in thechamber; and the child saw, or thought she saw, all these particulars



with the most perfect distinctness. She got her head under thebed-clothes; and although a good many years have passed since then, shecannot recall the spectacle without feelings of peculiar horror.

One day, when the children were playing in the back garden, I asked themto point out to me the spot where they were accustomed to see the womanwho occasionally showed herself as I have described, near the stablewall. There was no division of opinion as to this precise point, which

they indicated in the most distinct and confident way. I suggested that,perhaps, something might be hidden there in the ground; and advised themdigging a hole there with their little spades, to try for it.Accordingly, to work they went, and by my return in the evening they hadgrubbed up a piece of a jawbone, with several teeth in it. The bone wasvery much decayed, and ready to crumble to pieces, but the teeth werequite sound. I could not tell whether they were human grinders; but Ishowed the fossil to one of the physicians I have mentioned, who cameout the next evening, and he pronounced them human teeth. The sameconclusion was come to a day or two later by the other medical man. Itappears to me now, on reviewing the whole matter, almost unaccountablethat, with such evidence before me, I should not have got in a labourer,and had the spot effectually dug and searched. I can only say, that so

it was. I was quite satisfied of the moral truth of every word that hadbeen related to me, and which I have here set down with scrupulousaccuracy. But I experienced an apathy, for which neither then norafterwards did I quite know how to account. I had a vague, but immovableimpression that the whole affair was referable to natural agencies. Itwas not until some time after we had left the house, which, by-the-by,we afterwards found had had the reputation of being haunted before wehad come to live in it, that on reconsideration I discovered the seriousdifficulty of accounting satisfactorily for all that had occurred uponordinary principles. A great deal we might arbitrarily set down toimagination. But even in so doing there was, _in limine_, the oddity,not to say improbability, of so many different persons having nearlysimultaneously suffered from different spectral and other illusions

during the short period for which we had occupied that house, who neverbefore, nor so far as we learned, afterwards were troubled by any fearsor fancies of the sort. There were other things, too, not to be soaccounted for. The odd knockings in the roof I frequently heard myself.

There were also, which I before forgot to mention, in the daytime,rappings at the doors of the sitting-rooms, which constantly deceivedus; and it was not till our "come in" was unanswered, and the hall orpassage outside the door was discovered to be empty, that we learnedthat whatever else caused them, human hands did not. All the persons whoreported having seen the different persons or appearances here describedby me, were just as confident of having literally and distinctly seenthem, as I was of having seen the hard-featured woman with the blind

eye, so remarkably corresponding with Smith's description.

About a week after the discovery of the teeth, which were found, Ithink, about two feet under the ground, a friend, much advanced inyears, and who remembered the town in which we had now taken up ourabode, for a very long time, happened to pay us a visit. Hegood-humouredly pooh-poohed the whole thing; but at the same time wasevidently curious about it. "We might construct a sort of story," said I(I am giving, of course, the substance and purport, not the exact words,of our dialogue), "and assign to each of the three figures who appearedtheir respective parts in some dreadful tragedy enacted in this house.



The male figure represents the murderer; the ill-looking, one-eyed womanhis accomplice, who, we will suppose, buried the body where she is nowso often seen grubbing in the earth, and where the human teeth andjawbone have so lately been disinterred; and the young woman withdishevelled tresses, and black cloak, and the bloody scar across herthroat, their victim. A difficulty, however, which I cannot get over,exists in the cheerfulness, the great publicity, and the evident veryrecent date of the house." "Why, as to that," said he, "the house is

_not_ modern; it and those beside it formed an old government store,altered and fitted up recently as you see. I remember it well in myyoung days, fifty years ago, before the town had grown out in thisdirection, and a more entirely lonely spot, or one more fitted for thecommission of a secret crime, could not have been imagined."

I have nothing to add, for very soon after this my physician pronounceda longer stay unnecessary for my health, and we took our departure foranother place of abode. I may add, that although I have resided forconsiderable periods in many other houses, I never experienced anyannoyances of a similar kind elsewhere; neither have I made (stupid dog!you will say), any inquiries respecting either the antecedents orsubsequent history of the house in which we made so disturbed a sojourn.

I was content with what I knew, and have here related as clearly as Icould, and I think it a very pretty puzzle as it stands.

[Thus ends the statement, which we abandon to the ingenuity of ourreaders, having ourselves no satisfactory explanation to suggest; andsimply repeating the assurance with which we prefaced it, namely, thatwe can vouch for the perfect good faith and the accuracy of thenarrator.--E.D.U.M.]

Ultor De Lacy:A Legend of Cappercullen

CHAPTER I

The Jacobite's Legacy

In my youth I heard a great many Irish family traditions, more or lessof a supernatural character, some of them very peculiar, and all, to achild at least, highly interesting. One of these I will now relate,

though the translation to cold type from oral narrative, with all theaids of animated human voice and countenance, and the appropriate_mise-en-sc ne_ of the old-fashioned parlour fireside and its listening�circle of excited faces, and, outside, the wintry blast and the moan ofleafless boughs, with the occasional rattle of the clumsy oldwindow-frame behind shutter and curtain, as the blast swept by, is atbest a trying one.

About midway up the romantic glen of Cappercullen, near the point wherethe counties of Limerick, Clare, and Tipperary converge, upon the thensequestered and forest-bound range of the Slieve-Felim hills, there



stood, in the reigns of the two earliest Georges, the picturesque andmassive remains of one of the finest of the Anglo-Irish castles ofMunster--perhaps of Ireland.

It crowned the precipitous edge of the wooded glen, itself half-buriedamong the wild forest that covered that long and solitary range. Therewas no human habitation within a circle of many miles, except thehalf-dozen hovels and the small thatched chapel composing the little

village of Murroa, which lay at the foot of the glen among thestraggling skirts of the noble forest.

Its remoteness and difficulty of access saved it from demolition. It wasworth nobody's while to pull down and remove the ponderous and clumsyoak, much less the masonry or flagged roofing of the pile. Whateverwould pay the cost of removal had been long since carried away. The restwas abandoned to time--the destroyer.

The hereditary owners of this noble building and of a wide territory inthe contiguous counties I have named, were English--the De Lacys--longnaturalized in Ireland. They had acquired at least this portion of theirestate in the reign of Henry VIII, and held it, with some vicissitudes,

down to the establishment of the revolution in Ireland, when theysuffered attainder, and, like other great families of that period,underwent a final eclipse.

The De Lacy of that day retired to France, and held a brief command inthe Irish Brigade, interrupted by sickness. He retired, became a poorhanger-on of the Court of St. Germains, and died early in the eighteenthcentury--as well as I remember, 1705--leaving an only son, hardly twelveyears old, called by the strange but significant name of Ultor.

At this point commences the marvellous ingredient of my tale.

When his father was dying, he had him to his bedside, with no one by

except his confessor; and having told him, first, that on reaching theage of twenty-one, he was to lay claim to a certain small estate in thecounty of Clare, in Ireland, in right of his mother--the title-deeds ofwhich he gave him--and next, having enjoined him not to marry before theage of thirty, on the ground that earlier marriages destroyed the spiritand the power of enterprise, and would incapacitate him from theaccomplishment of his destiny--the restoration of his family--he thenwent on to open to the child a matter which so terrified him that hecried lamentably, trembling all over, clinging to the priest's gown withone hand and to his father's cold wrist with the other, and imploringhim, with screams of horror, to desist from his communication.

But the priest, impressed, no doubt, himself, with its necessity,

compelled him to listen. And then his father showed him a small picture,from which also the child turned with shrieks, until similarlyconstrained to look. They did not let him go until he had carefullyconned the features, and was able to tell them, from memory, the colourof the eyes and hair, and the fashion and hues of the dress. Then hisfather gave him a black box containing this portrait, which was afull-length miniature, about nine inches long, painted very finely inoils, as smooth as enamel, and folded above it a sheet of paper, writtenover in a careful and very legible hand.

The deeds and this black box constituted the most important legacy



bequeathed to his only child by the ruined Jacobite, and he depositedthem in the hands of the priest, in trust, till his boy, Ultor, shouldhave attained to an age to understand their value, and to keep themsecurely.

When this scene was ended, the dying exile's mind, I suppose, wasrelieved, for he spoke cheerily, and said he believed he would recover;and they soothed the crying child, and his father kissed him, and gave

him a little silver coin to buy fruit with; and so they sent him offwith another boy for a walk, and when he came back his father was dead.

He remained in France under the care of this ecclesiastic until he hadattained the age of twenty-one, when he repaired to Ireland, and histitle being unaffected by his father's attainder, he easily made goodhis claim to the small estate in the county of Clare.

There he settled, making a dismal and solitary tour now and then of thevast territories which had once been his father's, and nursing thosegloomy and impatient thoughts which befitted the enterprises to which hewas devoted.

Occasionally he visited Paris, that common centre of English, Irish, andScottish disaffection; and there, when a little past thirty, he marriedthe daughter of another ruined Irish house. His bride returned with himto the melancholy seclusion of their Munster residence, where she borehim in succession two daughters--Alice, the elder, dark-eyed anddark-haired, grave and sensible--Una, four years younger, with largeblue eyes and long and beautiful golden hair.

Their poor mother was, I believe, naturally a lighthearted, sociable,high-spirited little creature; and her gay and childish nature pined inthe isolation and gloom of her lot. At all events she died young, andthe children were left to the sole care of their melancholy andembittered father. In process of time the girls grew up, tradition says,

beautiful. The elder was designed for a convent, the younger her fatherhoped to mate as nobly as her high blood and splendid beauty seemed topromise, if only the great game on which he had resolved to stake allsucceeded.

CHAPTER II

The Fairies in the Castle

The Rebellion of '45 came, and Ultor de Lacy was one of the few Irishmen

implicated treasonably in that daring and romantic insurrection. Ofcourse there were warrants out against him, but he was not to be found.The young ladies, indeed, remained as heretofore in their father'slonely house in Clare; but whether he had crossed the water or was stillin Ireland was for some time unknown, even to them. In due course he wasattainted, and his little estate forfeited. It was a miserablecatastrophe--a tremendous and beggarly waking up from a life-long dreamof returning principality.

In due course the officers of the crown came down to take possession,and it behoved the young ladies to flit. Happily for them the



ecclesiastic I have mentioned was not quite so confident as theirfather, of his winning back the magnificent patrimony of his ancestors;and by his advice the daughters had been secured twenty pounds a yeareach, under the marriage settlement of their parents, which was all thatstood between this proud house and literal destitution.

Late one evening, as some little boys from the village were returningfrom a ramble through the dark and devious glen of Cappercullen, with

their pockets laden with nuts and "frahans," to their amazement and eventerror they saw a light streaming redly from the narrow window of one ofthe towers overhanging the precipice among the ivy and the loftybranches, across the glen, already dim in the shadows of the deepeningnight.

"Look--look--look--'tis the Phooka's tower!" was the general cry, in thevernacular Irish, and a universal scamper commenced.

The bed of the glen, strewn with great fragments of rock, among whichrose the tall stems of ancient trees, and overgrown with a tangledcopse, was at the best no favourable ground for a run. Now it was dark;and, terrible work breaking through brambles and hazels and tumbling

over rocks. Little Shaeen Mull Ryan, the last of the panic rout,screaming to his mates to wait for him--saw a whitish figure emerge fromthe thicket at the base of the stone flight of steps that descended theside of the glen, close by the castle-wall, intercepting his flight, anda discordant male voice shrieked----

"I have you!"

At the same time the boy, with a cry of terror, tripped and tumbled; andfelt himself roughly caught by the arm, and hauled to his feet with ashake.

A wild yell from the child, and a volley of terror and entreaty

followed.

"Who is it, Larry; what's the matter?" cried a voice, high in air, fromthe turret window, The words floated down through the trees, clear andsweet as the low notes of a flute.

"Only a child, my lady; a boy."

"Is he hurt?"

"Are you hurted?" demanded the whitish man, who held him fast, andrepeated the question in Irish; but the child only kept blubbering andcrying for mercy, with his hands clasped, and trying to drop on his

knees.

Larry's strong old hand held him up. He _was_ hurt, and bleeding fromover his eye.

"Just a trifle hurted, my lady!"

"Bring him up here."

Shaeen Mull Ryan gave himself over. He was among "the good people," whohe knew would keep him prisoner for ever and a day. There was no good in



resisting. He grew bewildered, and yielded himself passively to hisfate, and emerged from the glen on the platform above; his captor'sknotted old hand still on his arm, and looked round on the tallmysterious trees, and the gray front of the castle, revealed in theimperfect moonlight, as upon the scenery of a dream.

The old man who, with thin wiry legs, walked by his side, in a dingywhite coat, and blue facings, and great pewter buttons, with his silver

gray hair escaping from under his battered three-cocked hat; and hisshrewd puckered resolute face, in which the boy could read no promise ofsympathy, showing so white and phantom-like in the moonlight, was, as hethought, the incarnate ideal of a fairy.

This figure led him in silence under the great arched gateway, andacross the grass-grown court, to the door in the far angle of thebuilding; and so, in the dark, round and round, up a stone screw stair,and with a short turn into a large room, with a fire of turf and wood,burning on its long unused hearth, over which hung a pot, and about itan old woman with a great wooden spoon was busy. An iron candlesticksupported their solitary candle; and about the floor of the room, aswell as on the table and chairs, lay a litter of all sorts of things;

piles of old faded hangings, boxes, trunks, clothes, pewter-plates, andcups; and I know not what more.

But what instantly engaged the fearful gaze of the boy were the figuresof two ladies; red drugget cloaks they had on, like the peasant girls ofMunster and Connaught, and the rest of their dress was pretty much inkeeping. But they had the grand air, the refined expression and beauty,and above all, the serene air of command that belong to people of ahigher rank.

The elder, with black hair and full brown eyes, sat writing at the dealtable on which the candle stood, and raised her dark gaze to the boy ashe came in. The other, with her hood thrown back, beautiful and _riant_,

with a flood of wavy golden hair, and great blue eyes, and withsomething kind, and arch, and strange in her countenance, struck him asthe most wonderful beauty he could have imagined.

They questioned the man in a language strange to the child. It was notEnglish, for he had a smattering of that, and the man's story seemed toamuse them. The two young ladies exchanged a glance, and smiledmysteriously. He was more convinced than ever that he was among the goodpeople. The younger stepped gaily forward and said----

"Do you know who _I_ am, my little man? Well, I'm the fairy Una, andthis is my palace; and that fairy you see there (pointing to the darklady, who was looking out something in a box), is my sister and family

physician, the Lady Graveairs; and these (glancing at the old man andwoman), are some of my courtiers; and I'm considering now what I shalldo with _you_, whether I shall send you to-night to Lough Guir, ridingon a rush, to make my compliments to the Earl of Desmond in hisenchanted castle; or, straight to your bed, two thousand miles underground, among the gnomes; or to prison in that little corner of the moonyou see through the window--with the man-in-the-moon for your gaoler,for thrice three hundred years and a day! There, don't cry. You only seehow serious a thing it is for you, little boys, to come so near mycastle. Now, for this once, I'll let you go. But, henceforward, any boysI, or my people, may find within half a mile round my castle, shall



belong to me for life, and never behold their home or their peoplemore."

And she sang a little air and chased mystically half a dozen stepsbefore him, holding out her cloak with her pretty fingers, andcourtesying very low, to his indescribable alarm.

Then, with a little laugh, she said----

"My little man, we must mend your head."

And so they washed his scratch, and the elder one applied a plaister toit. And she of the great blue eyes took out of her pocket a littleFrench box of bon-bons and emptied it into his hand, and she said----

"You need not be afraid to eat these--they are very good--and I'll sendmy fairy, Blanc-et-bleu, to set you free. Take him (she addressedLarry), and let him go, with a solemn charge."

The elder, with a grave and affectionate smile, said, looking on thefairy----

"Brave, dear, wild Una! nothing can ever quell your gaiety of heart."

And Una kissed her merrily on the cheek.

So the oak door of the room again opened, and Shaeen, with hisconductor, descended the stair. He walked with the scared boy in grimsilence near half way down the wild hill-side toward Murroa, and then hestopped, and said in Irish----

"You never saw the fairies before, my fine fellow, and 'tisn't oftenthose who once set eyes on us return to tell it. Whoever comes nearer,night or day, than this stone," and he tapped it with the end of his

cane, "will never see his home again, for we'll keep him till the day ofjudgment; goodnight, little gossoon--and away with you."

So these young ladies, Alice and Una, with two old servants, by theirfather's direction, had taken up their abode in a portion of that sideof the old castle which overhung the glen; and with the furniture andhangings they had removed from their late residence, and with the aid ofglass in the casements and some other indispensable repairs, and athorough airing, they made the rooms they had selected just habitable,as a rude and temporary shelter.

CHAPTER III

The Priest's Adventures in the Glen

At first, of course, they saw or heard little of their father. Ingeneral, however, they knew that his plan was to procure some employmentin France, and to remove them there. Their present strange abode wasonly an adventure and an episode, and they believed that any day theymight receive instructions to commence their journey.



After a little while the pursuit relaxed. The government, I believe, didnot care, provided he did not obtrude himself, what became of him, orwhere he concealed himself. At all events, the local authorities showedno disposition to hunt him down. The young ladies' charges on the littleforfeited property were paid without any dispute, and no vexatiousinquiries were raised as to what had become of the furniture and otherpersonal property which had been carried away from the forfeited house.

The haunted reputation of the castle--for in those days, in matters ofthe marvellous, the oldest were children--secured the little family inthe seclusion they coveted. Once, or sometimes twice a week, oldLaurence, with a shaggy little pony, made a secret expedition to thecity of Limerick, starting before dawn, and returning under the cover ofthe night, with his purchases. There was beside an occasional slymoonlit visit from the old parish priest, and a midnight mass in the oldcastle for the little outlawed congregation.

As the alarm and inquiry subsided, their father made them, now and then,a brief and stealthy visit. At first these were but of a night'sduration, and with great precaution; but gradually they were extendedand less guarded. Still he was, as the phrase is in Munster, "on his

keeping." He had firearms always by his bed, and had arranged places ofconcealment in the castle in the event of a surprise. But no attempt norany disposition to molest him appearing, he grew more at ease, if notmore cheerful.

It came, at last, that he would sometimes stay so long as two wholemonths at a time, and then depart as suddenly and mysteriously as hecame. I suppose he had always some promising plot on hand, and his headfull of ingenious treason, and lived on the sickly and exciting dietaryof hope deferred.

Was there a poetical justice in this, that the little _m nage_ thus�secretly established, in the solitary and timeworn pile, should have

themselves experienced, but from causes not so easily explicable, thosevery supernatural perturbations which they had themselves essayed toinspire?

The interruption of the old priest's secret visits was the earliestconsequence of the mysterious interference which now began to displayitself. One night, having left his cob in care of his old sacristan inthe little village, he trudged on foot along the winding pathway, amongthe gray rocks and ferns that threaded the glen, intending a ghostlyvisit to the fair recluses of the castle, and he lost his way in thisstrange fashion.

There was moonlight, indeed, but it was little more than quarter-moon,

and a long train of funereal clouds were sailing slowly across thesky--so that, faint and wan as it was, the light seldom shone full out,and was often hidden for a minute or two altogether. When he reached thepoint in the glen where the castle-stairs were wont to be, he could seenothing of them, and above, no trace of the castle-towers. So, puzzledsomewhat, he pursued his way up the ravine, wondering how his walk hadbecome so unusually protracted and fatiguing.

At last, sure enough, he saw the castle as plain as could be, and alonely streak of candle-light issuing from the tower, just as usual,when his visit was expected. But he could not find the stair; and had to



clamber among the rocks and copse-wood the best way he could. But whenhe emerged at top, there was nothing but the bare heath. Then the cloudsstole over the moon again, and he moved along with hesitation anddifficulty, and once more he saw the outline of the castle against thesky, quite sharp and clear. But this time it proved to be a greatbattlemented mass of cloud on the horizon. In a few minutes more he wasquite close, all of a sudden, to the great front, rising gray and dim inthe feeble light, and not till he could have struck it with his good oak

"wattle" did he discover it to be only one of those wild, gray frontagesof living rock that rise here and there in picturesque tiers along theslopes of those solitary mountains. And so, till dawn, pursuing thismirage of the castle, through pools and among ravines, he wore out anight of miserable misadventure and fatigue.

Another night, riding up the glen, so far as the level way at bottomwould allow, and intending to make his nag fast at his customary tree,he heard on a sudden a horrid shriek at top of the steep rocks above hishead, and something--a gigantic human form, it seemed--came tumbling andbounding headlong down through the rocks, and fell with a fearfulimpetus just before his horse's hoofs and there lay like a hugepalpitating carcass. The horse was scared, as, indeed, was his rider,

too, and more so when this apparently lifeless thing sprang up to hislegs, and throwing his arms apart to bar their further progress,advanced his white and gigantic face towards them. Then the horsestarted about, with a snort of terror, nearly unseating the priest, andbroke away into a furious and uncontrollable gallop.

I need not recount all the strange and various misadventures which thehonest priest sustained in his endeavours to visit the castle, and itsisolated tenants. They were enough to wear out his resolution, andfrighten him into submission. And so at last these spiritual visitsquite ceased; and fearing to awaken inquiry and suspicion, he thought itonly prudent to abstain from attempting them in the daytime.

So the young ladies of the castle were more alone than ever. Theirfather, whose visits were frequently of long duration, had of lateceased altogether to speak of their contemplated departure for France,grew angry at any allusion to it, and they feared, had abandoned theplan altogether.

CHAPTER IV

The Light in the Bell Tower

Shortly after the discontinuance of the priest's visits, old Laurence,one night, to his surprise, saw light issuing from a window in the BellTower. It was at first only a tremulous red ray, visible only for a fewminutes, which seemed to pass from the room, through whose window itescaped upon the courtyard of the castle, and so to lose itself. Thistower and casement were in the angle of the building, exactlyconfronting that in which the little outlawed family had taken up theirquarters.

The whole family were troubled at the appearance of this dull red rayfrom the chamber in the Bell Tower. Nobody knew what to make of it. But



Laurence, who had campaigned in Italy with his old master, the youngladies' grandfather--"the heavens be his bed this night!"--was resolvedto see it out, and took his great horse-pistols with him, and ascendedto the corridor leading to the tower. But his search was vain.

This light left a sense of great uneasiness among the inmates, and mostcertainly it was not pleasant to suspect the establishment of anindependent and possibly dangerous lodger or even colony, within the

walls of the same old building.

The light very soon appeared again, steadier and somewhat brighter, inthe same chamber. Again old Laurence buckled on his armour, swearingominously to himself, and this time bent in earnest upon conflict. Theyoung ladies watched in thrilling suspense from the great window in_their_ stronghold, looking diagonally across the court. But asLaurence, who had entered the massive range of buildings opposite, mightbe supposed to be approaching the chamber from which this ill-omenedglare proceeded, it steadily waned, finally disappearing altogether,just a few seconds before his voice was heard shouting from the archedwindow to know which way the light had gone.

This lighting up of the great chamber of the Bell Tower grew at last tobe of frequent and almost continual recurrence. It was, there, long ago,in times of trouble and danger, that the De Lacys of those evil daysused to sit in feudal judgment upon captive adversaries, and, astradition alleged, often gave them no more time for shrift and prayer,than it needed to mount to the battlement of the turret over-head, fromwhich they were forthwith hung by the necks, for a caveat and admonitionto all evil disposed persons viewing the same from the country beneath.

Old Laurence observed these mysterious glimmerings with an evil and ananxious eye, and many and various were the stratagems he tried, but invain, to surprise the audacious intruders. It is, however, I believe, afact that no phenomenon, no matter how startling at first, if prosecuted

with tolerable regularity, and unattended with any new circumstances ofterror, will very long continue to excite alarm or even wonder.

So the family came to acquiesce in this mysterious light. No harmaccompanied it. Old Laurence, as he smoked his lonely pipe in thegrass-grown courtyard, would cast a disturbed glance at it, as it softlyglowed out through the darking aperture, and mutter a prayer or an oath.But he had given over the chase as a hopeless business. And PeggySullivan, the old dame of all work, when, by chance, for she neverwillingly looked toward the haunted quarter, she caught the faintreflection of its dull effulgence with the corner of her eye, would signherself with the cross or fumble at her beads, and deeper furrows wouldgather in her forehead, and her face grow ashen and perturbed. And this

was not mended by the levity with which the young ladies, with whom thespectre had lost his influence, familiarity, as usual, breedingcontempt, had come to talk, and even to jest, about it.

CHAPTER V

The Man with the Claret Mark



But as the former excitement flagged, old Peggy Sullivan produced a newone; for she solemnly avowed that she had seen a thin-faced man, with anugly red mark all over the side of his cheek, looking out of the samewindow, just at sunset, before the young ladies returned from theirevening walk.

This sounded in their ears like an old woman's dream, but still it wasan excitement, jocular in the morning, and just, perhaps, a little

fearful as night overspread the vast and desolate building, but still,not wholly unpleasant. This little flicker of credulity suddenly,however, blazed up into the full light of conviction.

Old Laurence, who was not given to dreaming, and had a cool, hard head,and an eye like a hawk, saw the same figure, just about the same hour,when the last level gleam of sunset was tinting the summits of thetowers and the tops of the tall trees that surrounded them.

He had just entered the court from the great gate, when he heard all atonce the hard peculiar twitter of alarm which sparrows make when a cator a hawk invades their safety, rising all round from the thick ivy thatoverclimbed the wall on his left, and raising his eyes listlessly, he

saw, with a sort of shock, a thin, ungainly man, standing with his legscrossed, in the recess of the window from which the light was wont toissue, leaning with his elbows on the stone mullion, and looking downwith a sort of sickly sneer, his hollow yellow cheeks being deeplystained on one side with what is called a "claret-mark."

"I have you at last, you villain!" cried Larry, in a strange rage andpanic: "drop down out of that on the grass here, and give yourself up,or I'll shoot you."

The threat was backed with an oath, and he drew from his coat pocket thelong holster pistol he was wont to carry, and covered his man cleverly.

"I give you while I count ten--one-two-three-four. If you draw back,I'll fire, mind; five-six--you'd better be lively--seven-eight-nine--onechance more; will you come down? Then take it--ten!"

Bang went the pistol. The sinister stranger was hardly fifteen feetremoved from him, and Larry was a dead shot. But this time he made ascandalous miss, for the shot knocked a little white dust from the stonewall a full yard at one side; and the fellow never shifted his negligentposture or qualified his sardonic smile during the procedure.

Larry was mortified and angry.

"You'll not get off this time, my tulip!" he said with a grin,

exchanging the smoking weapon for the loaded pistol in reserve.

"What are you pistolling, Larry?" said a familiar voice close by hiselbow, and he saw his master, accompanied by a handsome young man in acloak.

"That villain, your honour, in the window, there."

"Why there's nobody there, Larry," said De Lacy, with a laugh, thoughthat was no common indulgence with him.



As Larry gazed, the figure somehow dissolved and broke up withoutreceding. A hanging tuft of yellow and red ivy nodded queerly in placeof the face, some broken and discoloured masonry in perspective took upthe outline and colouring of the arms and figure, and two imperfect redand yellow lichen streaks carried on the curved tracing of the longspindle shanks. Larry blessed himself, and drew his hand across his dampforehead, over his bewildered eyes, and could not speak for a minute.It was all some devilish trick; he could take his oath he saw every

feature in the fellow's face, the lace and buttons of his cloak anddoublet, and even his long finger nails and thin yellow fingers thatoverhung the cross-shaft of the window, where there was now nothing buta rusty stain left.

The young gentleman who had arrived with De Lacy, stayed that night andshared with great apparent relish the homely fare of the family. He wasa gay and gallant Frenchman, and the beauty of the younger lady, and herpleasantry and spirit, seemed to make his hours pass but too swiftly,and the moment of parting sad.

When he had departed early in the morning, Ultor De Lacy had a long talkwith his elder daughter, while the younger was busy with her early dairy

task, for among their retainers this _proles generosa_ reckoned a "kind"little Kerry cow.

He told her that he had visited France since he had been last atCappercullen, and how good and gracious their sovereign had been, andhow he had arranged a noble alliance for her sister Una. The younggentleman was of high blood, and though not rich, had, nevertheless, hisacres and his _nom de terre_, besides a captain's rank in the army. Hewas, in short, the very gentleman with whom they had parted only thatmorning. On what special business he was now in Ireland there was nonecessity that he should speak; but being here he had brought him hitherto present him to his daughter, and found that the impression she hadmade was quite what was desirable.

"You, you know, dear Alice, are promised to a conventual life. Had itbeen otherwise--"

He hesitated for a moment.

"You are right, dear father," she said, kissing his hand, "I _am_ sopromised, and no earthly tie or allurement has power to draw me fromthat holy engagement."

"Well," he said, returning her caress, "I do not mean to urge you uponthat point. It must not, however, be until Una's marriage has takenplace. That cannot be, for many good reasons, sooner than this time

twelve months; we shall then exchange this strange and barbarous abodefor Paris, where are many eligible convents, in which are entertained assisters some of the noblest ladies of France; and there, too, in Una'smarriage will be continued, though not the name, at all events theblood, the lineage, and the title which, so sure as justice ultimatelygoverns the course of human events, will be again established, powerfuland honoured in this country, the scene of their ancient glory andtransitory misfortunes. Meanwhile, we must not mention this engagementto Una. Here she runs no risk of being sought or won; but the mereknowledge that her hand was absolutely pledged, might excite acapricious opposition and repining such as neither I nor you would like



to see; therefore be secret."

The same evening he took Alice with him for a ramble round the castlewall, while they talked of grave matters, and he as usual allowed her adim and doubtful view of some of those cloud-built castles in which hehabitually dwelt, and among which his jaded hopes revived.

They were walking upon a pleasant short sward of darkest green, on one

side overhung by the gray castle walls, and on the other by the foresttrees that here and there closely approached it, when precisely as theyturned the angle of the Bell Tower, they were encountered by a personwalking directly towards them. The sight of a stranger, with theexception of the one visitor introduced by her father, was in this placeso absolutely unprecedented, that Alice was amazed and affrighted tosuch a degree that for a moment she stood stock-still.

But there was more in this apparition to excite unpleasant emotions,than the mere circumstance of its unexpectedness. The figure was verystrange, being that of a tall, lean, ungainly man, dressed in a dingysuit, somewhat of a Spanish fashion, with a brown laced cloak, and fadedred stockings. He had long lank legs, long arms, hands, and fingers, and

a very long sickly face, with a drooping nose, and a sly, sarcasticleer, and a great purplish stain over-spreading more than half of onecheek.

As he strode past, he touched his cap with his thin, discolouredfingers, and an ugly side glance, and disappeared round the corner. Theeyes of father and daughter followed him in silence.

Ultor De Lacy seemed first absolutely terror-stricken, and then suddenlyinflamed with ungovernable fury. He dropped his cane on the ground, drewhis rapier, and, without wasting a thought on his daughter, pursued.

He just had a glimpse of the retreating figure as it disappeared round

the far angle. The plume, and the lank hair, the point of therapier-scabbard, the flutter of the skirt of the cloak, and one redstocking and heel; and this was the last he saw of him.

When Alice reached his side, his drawn sword still in his hand, he wasin a state of abject agitation.

"Thank Heaven, he's gone!" she exclaimed.

"He's gone," echoed Ultor, with a strange glare.

"And you are safe," she added, clasping his hand.

He sighed a great sigh.

"And you don't think he's coming back?"

"He!--who?"

"The stranger who passed us but now. Do you know him, father?"

"Yes--and--no, child--I know him not--and yet I know him too well. Wouldto heaven we could leave this accursed haunt tonight. Cursed be thestupid malice that first provoked this horrible feud, which no sacrifice



and misery can appease, and no exorcism can quell or even suspend. Thewretch has come from afar with a sure instinct to devour my lasthope--to dog us into our last retreat--and to blast with his triumph thevery dust and ruins of our house. What ails that stupid priest that hehas given over his visits? Are _my_ children to be left without mass orconfession--the sacraments which _guard_ as well as save--because heonce loses his way in a mist, or mistakes a streak of foam in the brookfor a dead man's face? D--n him!"

"See, Alice, if he won't come," he resumed, "you must only _write_ yourconfession to him in full--you and Una. Laurence is trusty, and willcarry it--and we'll get the bishop's--or, if need be, the Pope's leavefor him to give you absolution. I'll move heaven and earth, but you_shall_ have the sacraments, poor children!--and see him. I've been awild fellow in my youth, and never pretended to sanctity; but I knowthere's but one safe way--and--and--keep you each a bit of this--(heopened a small silver box)--about you while you stay here--fold and sewit up reverently in a bit of the old psaltery parchment and wear it nextyour hearts--'tis a fragment of the consecrated wafer--and will help,with the saints' protection, to guard you from harm--and be strict infasts, and constant in prayer--_I_ can do nothing--nor devise any help.

The curse has fallen, indeed, on me and mine."

And Alice, saw, in silence, the tears of despair roll down his pale andagitated face.

This adventure was also a secret, and Una was to hear nothing of it.

CHAPTER VI

Voices

Now Una, nobody knew why, began to lose spirit, and to grow pale. Herfun and frolic were quite gone! Even her songs ceased. She was silentwith her sister, and loved solitude better. She said she was well, andquite happy, and could in no wise be got to account for the lamentablechange that had stolen over her. She had grown odd too, and obstinate intrifles; and strangely reserved and cold.

Alice was very unhappy in consequence. What was the cause of thisestrangement--had she offended her, and how? But Una had never beforeborne resentment for an hour. What could have altered her entire natureso? Could it be the shadow and chill of coming insanity?

Once or twice, when her sister urged her with tears and entreaties todisclose the secret of her changed spirits and demeanour, she seemed tolisten with a sort of silent wonder and suspicion, and then she lookedfor a moment full upon her, and seemed on the very point of revealingall. But the earnest dilated gaze stole downward to the floor, andsubsided into an odd wily smile, and she began to whisper to herself,and the smile and the whisper were both a mystery to Alice.

She and Alice slept in the same bedroom--a chamber in a projectingtower--which on their arrival, when poor Una was so merry, they had hunground with old tapestry, and decorated fantastically according to their



skill and frolic. One night, as they went to bed, Una said, as ifspeaking to herself----

"'Tis my last night in this room--I shall sleep no more with Alice."

"And what has poor Alice done, Una, to deserve your strange unkindness?"

Una looked on her curiously, and half frightened, and then the odd smile

stole over her face like a gleam of moonlight.

"My poor Alice, what have you to do with it?" she whispered.

"And why do you talk of sleeping no more with me?" said Alice.

"Why? Alice dear--no why--no reason--only a knowledge that it must beso, or Una will die."

"Die, Una darling!--what can you mean?"

"Yes, sweet Alice, die, indeed. We must all die some time, you know,or--or undergo a change; and my time is near--_very_ near--unless I

sleep apart from you."

"Indeed, Una, sweetheart, I think you _are_ ill, but not near death."

"Una knows what you think, wise Alice--but she's not mad--on thecontrary, she's wiser than other folks."

"She's sadder and stranger too," said Alice, tenderly.

"Knowledge is sorrow," answered Una, and she looked across the roomthrough her golden hair which she was combing--and through the window,beyond which lay the tops of the great trees, and the still foliage ofthe glen in the misty moonlight.

"'Tis enough, Alice dear; it must be so. The bed must move hence, orUna's bed will be low enough ere long. See, it shan't be far though,only into that small room."

She pointed to an inner room or closet opening from that in which theylay. The walls of the building were hugely thick, and there were doubledoors of oak between the chambers, and Alice thought, with a sigh, howcompletely separated they were going to be.

However she offered no opposition. The change was made, and the girlsfor the first time since childhood lay in separate chambers. A fewnights afterwards Alice awoke late in the night from a dreadful dream,

in which the sinister figure which she and her father had encountered intheir ramble round the castle walls, bore a principal part.

When she awoke there were still in her ears the sounds which had mingledin her dream. They were the notes of a deep, ringing, bass voice risingfrom the glen beneath the castle walls--something between humming andsinging--listlessly unequal and intermittent, like the melody of a manwhiling away the hours over his work. While she was wondering at thisunwonted minstrelsy, there came a silence, and--could she believe herears?--it certainly was Una's clear low contralto--softly singing a baror two from the window. Then once more silence--and then again the



strange manly voice, faintly chaunting from the leafy abyss.

With a strange wild feeling of suspicion and terror, Alice glided to thewindow. The moon who sees so many things, and keeps all secrets, withher cold impenetrable smile, was high in the sky. But Alice saw the redflicker of a candle from Una's window, and, she thought, the shadow ofher head against the deep side wall of its recess. Then this was gone,and there were no more sights or sounds that night.

As they sate at breakfast, the small birds were singing merrily fromamong the sun-tipped foliage.

"I love this music," said Alice, unusually pale and sad; "it comes withthe pleasant light of morning. I remember, Una, when you used to sing,like those gay birds, in the fresh beams of the morning; that was in theold time, when Una kept no secret from poor Alice."

"And Una knows what her sage Alice means; but there are other birds,silent all day long, and, they say, the sweetest too, that love to singby _night_ alone."

So things went on--the elder girl pained and melancholy--the youngersilent, changed, and unaccountable.

A little while after this, very late one night, on awaking, Alice hearda conversation being carried on in her sister's room. There seemed to beno disguise about it. She could not distinguish the words, indeed, thewalls being some six feet thick, and two great oak doors intercepting.But Una's clear voice, and the deep bell-like tones of the unknown, madeup the dialogue.

Alice sprung from her bed, threw her clothes about her, and tried toenter her sister's room; but the inner door was bolted. The voicesceased to speak as she knocked, and Una opened it, and stood before her

in her nightdress, candle in hand.

"Una--Una, darling, as you hope for peace, tell me who is here?" criedfrightened Alice, with her trembling arms about her neck.

Una drew back, with her large innocent blue eyes fixed full upon her.

"Come in, Alice," she said, coldly.

And in came Alice, with a fearful glance around. There was no hidingplace there; a chair, a table, a little bedstead, and two or three pegsin the wall to hang clothes on; a narrow window, with two iron barsacross; no hearth or chimney--nothing but bare walls.

Alice looked round in amazement, and her eyes glanced with painfulinquiry into those of her sister. Una smiled one of her peculiarsidelong smiles, and said----

"Strange dreams! I've been dreaming--so has Alice. She hears and seesUna's dreams, and wonders--and well she may."

And she kissed her sister's cheek with a cold kiss, and lay down in herlittle bed, her slender hand under her head, and spoke no more.



Alice, not knowing what to think, went back to hers.

About this time Ultor De Lacy returned. He heard his elder daughter'sstrange narrative with marked uneasiness, and his agitation seemed togrow rather than subside. He enjoined her, however, not to mention it tothe old servant, nor in presence of anybody she might chance to see, butonly to him and to the priest, if he could be persuaded to resume hisduty and return. The trial, however, such as it was, could not endure

very long; matters had turned out favourably. The union of his youngerdaughter might be accomplished within a few months, and in eight ornine weeks they should be on their way to Paris.

A night or two after her father's arrival, Alice, in the dead of thenight, heard the well-known strange deep voice speaking softly, as itseemed, close to her own window on the outside; and Una's voice, clearand tender, spoke in answer. She hurried to her own casement, and pushedit open, kneeling in the deep embrasure, and looking with a stealthy andaffrighted gaze towards her sister's window. As she crossed the floorthe voices subsided, and she saw a light withdrawn from within. Themoonbeams slanted bright and clear on the whole side of the castleoverlooking the glen, and she plainly beheld the shadow of a man

projected on the wall as on a screen.

This black shadow recalled with a horrid thrill the outline and fashionof the figure in the Spanish dress. There were the cap and mantle, therapier, the long thin limbs and sinister angularity. It was so thrownobliquely that the hands reached to the window-sill, and the feetstretched and stretched, longer and longer as she looked, toward theground, and disappeared in the general darkness; and the rest, with asudden flicker, shot downwards, as shadows will on the sudden movementof a light, and was lost in one gigantic leap down the castle wall.

"I do not know whether I dream or wake when I hear and see these sights;but I will ask my father to sit up with me, and we _two_ surely cannot

be mistaken. May the holy saints keep and guard us!" And in her terrorshe buried her head under the bed-clothes, and whispered her prayers foran hour.

CHAPTER VII

Una's Love

"I have been with Father Denis," said De Lacy, next day, "and he willcome to-morrow; and, thank Heaven! you may both make your confession and

hear mass, and my mind will be at rest; and you'll find poor Una happierand more like herself."

But 'tween cup and lip there's many a slip. The priest was not destinedto hear poor Una's shrift. When she bid her sister goodnight she lookedon her with her large, cold, wild eyes, till something of her old humanaffections seemed to gather there, and they slowly filled with tears,which dropped one after the other on her homely dress as she gazed inher sister's face.

Alice, delighted, sprang up, and clasped her arms about her neck. "My



own darling treasure,'tis all over; you love your poor Alice again, andwill be happier than ever."

But while she held her in her embrace Una's eyes were turned towards thewindow, and her lips apart, and Alice felt instinctively that herthoughts were already far away.

"Hark!--listen!--hush!" and Una, with her delighted gaze fixed, as if

she saw far away beyond the castle wall, the trees, the glen, and thenight's dark curtain, held her hand raised near her ear, and waved herhead slightly in time, as it seemed, to music that reached not Alice'sear, and smiled her strange pleased smile, and then the smile slowlyfaded away, leaving that sly suspicious light behind it which somehowscared her sister with an uncertain sense of danger; and she sang intones so sweet and low that it seemed but a reverie of a song,recalling, as Alice fancied, the strain to which she had just listenedin that strange ecstasy, the plaintive and beautiful Irish ballad,"Shule, shule, shule, aroon," the midnight summons of the outlawed Irishsoldier to his darling to follow him.

Alice had slept little the night before. She was now overpowered with

fatigue; and leaving her candle burning by her bedside, she fell into adeep sleep. From this she awoke suddenly, and completely, as willsometimes happen without any apparent cause, and she saw Una come intothe room. She had a little purse of embroidery--her own work--in herhand; and she stole lightly to the bedside, with her peculiar obliquesmile, and evidently thinking that her sister was asleep.

Alice was thrilled with a strange terror, and did not speak or move; andher sister slipped her hand softly under her bolster, and withdrew it.Then Una stood for while by the hearth, and stretched her hand up to themantelpiece, from which she took a little bit of chalk, and Alicethought she saw her place it in the fingers of a long yellow hand thatwas stealthily introduced from her own chamber-door to receive it; and

Una paused in the dark recess of the door, and smiled over her shouldertoward her sister, and then glided into her room, closing the doors.

Almost freezing with terror, Alice rose and glided after her, and stoodin her chamber, screaming----

"Una, Una, in heaven's name what troubles you?"

But Una seemed to have been sound asleep in her bed, and raised herselfwith a start, and looking upon her with a peevish surprise, said----

"What does Alice seek here?"

"You were in my room, Una, dear; you seem disturbed and troubled."

"Dreams, Alice. My dreams crossing your brain; only dreams--dreams. Getyou to bed, and sleep."

And to bed she went, but _not_ to sleep. She lay awake more than anhour; and then Una emerged once more from her room. This time she wasfully dressed, and had her cloak and thick shoes on, as their rattle onthe floor plainly discovered. She had a little bundle tied up in ahandkerchief in her hand, and her hood was drawn about her head; andthus equipped, as it seemed, for a journey, she came and stood at the



foot of Alice's bed, and stared on her with a look so soulless andterrible that her senses almost forsook her. Then she turned and wentback into her own chamber.

She may have returned; but Alice thought not--at least she did not seeher. But she lay in great excitement and perturbation; and wasterrified, about an hour later, by a knock at her chamber door--not thatopening into Una's room, but upon the little passage from the stone

screw staircase. She sprang from her bed; but the door was secured onthe inside, and she felt relieved. The knock was repeated, and she heardsome one laughing softly on the outside.

The morning came at last; that dreadful night was over. But Una! Wherewas Una?

Alice never saw her more. On the head of her empty bed were traced inchalk the words--Ultor De Lacy, Ultor O'Donnell. And Alice found beneathher own pillow the little purse of embroidery she had seen in Una'shand. It was her little parting token, and bore the simplelegend--"Una's love!"

De Lacy's rage and horror were boundless. He charged the priest, infrantic language, with having exposed his child, by his cowardice andneglect, to the machinations of the Fiend, and raved and blasphemed likea man demented.

It is said that he procured a solemn exorcism to be performed, in thehope of disenthralling and recovering his daughter. Several times, it isalleged, she was seen by the old servants. Once on a sweet summermorning, in the window of the tower, she was perceived combing herbeautiful golden tresses, and holding a little mirror in her hand; andfirst, when she saw herself discovered, she looked affrighted, and thensmiled, her slanting, cunning smile. Sometimes, too, in the glen, bymoonlight, it was said belated villagers had met her, always startled

first, and then smiling, generally singing snatches of old Irishballads, that seemed to bear a sort of dim resemblance to her melancholyfate. The apparition has long ceased. But it is said that now and again,perhaps once in two or three years, late on a summer night, you mayhear--but faint and far away in the recesses of the glen--the sweet, sadnotes of Una's voice, singing those plaintive melodies. This, too, ofcourse, in time will cease, and all be forgotten.

CHAPTER VIII

Sister Agnes and the Portrait

When Ultor De Lacy died, his daughter Alice found among his effects asmall box, containing a portrait such as I have described. When shelooked on it, she recoiled in horror. There, in the plenitude of itssinister peculiarities, was faithfully portrayed the phantom which livedwith a vivid and horrible accuracy in her remembrance. Folded in thesame box was a brief narrative, stating that, "A.D. 1601, in the monthof December, Walter De Lacy, of Cappercullen, made many prisoners at theford of Ownhey, or Abington, of Irish and Spanish soldiers, flying fromthe great overthrow of the rebel powers at Kinsale, and among the number



one Roderic O'Donnell, an arch traitor, and near kinsman to that otherO'Donnell who led the rebels; who, claiming kindred through his motherto De Lacy, sued for his life with instant and miserable entreaty, andoffered great ransom, but was by De Lacy, through great zeal for thequeen, as some thought, cruelly put to death. When he went to thetower-top, where was the gallows, finding himself in extremity, and nohope of mercy, he swore that though he could work them no evil beforehis death, yet that he would devote himself thereafter to blast the

greatness of the De Lacys, and never leave them till his work was done.He hath been seen often since, and always for that family perniciously,insomuch that it hath been the custom to show to young children of thatlineage the picture of the said O'Donnell, in little, taken among hisfew valuables, to prevent their being misled by him unawares, so that heshould not have his will, who by devilish wiles and hell-born cunning,hath steadfastly sought the ruin of that ancient house, and especiallyto leave that _stemma generosum_ destitute of issue for the transmissionof their pure blood and worshipful name."

Old Miss Croker, of Ross House, who was near seventy in the year 1821,when she related this story to me, had seen and conversed with Alice DeLacy, a professed nun, under the name of Sister Agnes, in a religious

house in King-street, in Dublin, founded by the famous Duchess ofTyrconnell, and had the narrative from her own lips. I thought the taleworth preserving, and have no more to say.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK J. S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES,VOLUME 2***

******* This file should be named 11700-8.txt or 11700-8.zip *******

This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:http://www.gutenberg.net/1/1/7/0/11700

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editionswill be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that noone owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States withoutpermission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply tocopying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to

protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. ProjectGutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if youcharge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If youdo not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with therules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purposesuch as creation of derivative works, reports, performances andresearch. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may dopractically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution issubject to the trademark license, especially commercialredistribution.



*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSEPLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free

distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "ProjectGutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full ProjectGutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online athttp://gutenberg.net/license).

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tmelectronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tmelectronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree toand accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property

(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by allthe terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroyall copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a ProjectGutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by theterms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person orentity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only beused on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people whoagree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a fewthings that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic workseven without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See

paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with ProjectGutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreementand help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronicworks. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of ProjectGutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in thecollection are in the public domain in the United States. If anindividual work is in the public domain in the United States and you arelocated in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you fromcopying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivativeworks based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg

are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the ProjectGutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works byfreely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms ofthis agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated withthe work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement bykeeping this work in the same format with its attached full ProjectGutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also governwhat you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are ina constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check



the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreementbefore downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing orcreating derivative works based on this work or any other ProjectGutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerningthe copyright status of any work in any country outside the UnitedStates.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediateaccess to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominentlywhenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which thephrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "ProjectGutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derivedfrom the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it isposted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copiedand distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any feesor charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a workwith the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on thework, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and theProject Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is postedwith the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution

must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additionalterms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linkedto the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with thepermission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tmLicense terms from this work, or any files containing a part of thiswork or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute thiselectronic work, or any part of this electronic work, withoutprominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 withactive links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project

Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including anyword processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to ordistribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official versionposted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.net),you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide acopy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy uponrequest, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other



form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tmLicense as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm worksunless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing

access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works providedthat

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive fromthe use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the methodyou already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee isowed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but hehas agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to theProject Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty paymentsmust be paid within 60 days following each date on which youprepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic taxreturns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such andsent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the

address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations tothe Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifiesyou in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/hedoes not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tmLicense. You must require such a user to return ordestroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical mediumand discontinue all use of and all access to other copies ofProject Gutenberg-tm works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of anymoney paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the

electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 daysof receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for freedistribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tmelectronic work or group of works on different terms than are setforth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing fromboth the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and MichaelHart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact theFoundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerableeffort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofreadpublic domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tmcollection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronicworks, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate orcorrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectualproperty infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, acomputer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by



your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Rightof Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the ProjectGutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the ProjectGutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a ProjectGutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim allliability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal

fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICTLIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSEPROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THETRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BELIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE ORINCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCHDAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover adefect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you canreceive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending awritten explanation to the person you received the work from. If youreceived the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with

your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you withthe defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of arefund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entityproviding it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity toreceive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copyis also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without furtheropportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forthin paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHERWARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TOWARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain impliedwarranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates thelaw of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall beinterpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted bythe applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of anyprovision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, thetrademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyoneproviding copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordancewith this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,

harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you door cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tmwork, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to anyProject Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution ofelectronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers



including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It existsbecause of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations frompeople in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with theassistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm'sgoals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection willremain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project

Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secureand permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundationand how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary ArchiveFoundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of thestate of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal

Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identificationnumber is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted athttp://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project GutenbergLiterary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extentpermitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scatteredthroughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, [email protected]. Email contact links and up to date contactinformation can be found at the Foundation's web site and officialpage at http://pglaf.org

For additional contact information:Dr. Gregory B. NewbyChief Executive and [email protected]

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project GutenbergLiterary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission ofincreasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can befreely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest

array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exemptstatus with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulatingcharities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the UnitedStates. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes aconsiderable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep upwith these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locationswhere we have not received written confirmation of compliance. ToSEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any



particular state visit http://pglaf.org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where wehave not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibitionagainst accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states whoapproach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make

any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received fromoutside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donationmethods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of otherways including including checks, online payments and credit carddonations. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronicworks.

Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm

concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely sharedwith anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed ProjectGutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printededitions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarilykeep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook'seBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,compressed (zipped), HTML and others.

Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take overthe old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed.VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receivingnew filenames and etext numbers.

Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:

http://www.gutenberg.net

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg LiteraryArchive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how tosubscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want todownload any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regularsearch system you may utilize the following addresses and justdownload by the etext year.

http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext06

(Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)



EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, arefiled in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer partof the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which isidentical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of singledigits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. Forexample an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:

http://www.gutenberg.net/1/0/2/3/10234

or filename 24689 would be found at:http://www.gutenberg.net/2/4/6/8/24689

An alternative method of locating eBooks:http://www.gutenberg.net/GUTINDEX.ALL

*** END: FULL LICENSE ***

j s le fanu's ghostly tales, volume 2 by joesph sheridan le fanu

Documents