The Strangers in the Rookery.

"If thou sleep alone in Urrard, Perchance in midnight gloom Thou'lt hear behind the wainscot Sounds in that haunted room, It is a thought of horror, I would not sleep alone In the haunted room of Urrard, Where evil deeds are done."

--UNKNOWN.

"What do you think, Calista? What _do_ you think?" exclaimed Miss Evelina Fairland, one day soon after their return from the city, bursting in, in a great state of excitement. "Two of the _handsomest_ men have come to the village, one of them is a Mr. Harrington; isn't it a lovely name? and he has purchased "_the Rookery_" do you believe! some say that he is a young man, others that he is a widower. They have come down to hunt and fish, and he was mightily taken with "the Rookery,"

and in spite of ghosts and goblins he has actually bought it;" and here Miss Evelina paused to take breath.

"The Rookery" was a large old mansion which had once been a very handsome dwelling. It stood quite alone on a rising ground a little out of the village, and was surrounded with an extensive lawn, which on one side sloped down the lake, over which were scattered magnificent elms; and there was only one thing that prevented "the Rookery" from being the most delightful residence in the country. This was the well-attested fact that the house was haunted; and though at different times, those who were above being influenced by these idle fears, had fitted up the place and endeavored to live there, yet there could be no comfort in so large a house without servants, and not one could be found to remain in it more than one night. Servants were brought from a distance, but they soon heard in the village the story of the lady who died so mysteriously in that house twenty years before, and how she _walked_ every night, and then of course they heard sounds, and saw sights; and they too, forthwith took their departure.

So the old house was quite falling into decay when these two brave men came down and took possession of it; and fitting up comfortably two or three of the most tenantable rooms, they there kept bachelors' hall, unterrified and undisturbed, at least by _spirits_. A few days after the announcement of the arrival of the strangers in the village, a widow lady of the name of Danby came to make a visit to the Fairland's. She had with her a little girl, her only child, a wilful, spoiled little thing, who took her own course in everything, utterly regardless of the wishes or commands of others. In the afternoon, as Agnes was preparing to start with her little pupils for their accustomed walk, Mrs. Danby said:

"Bella wishes to accompany you, Miss Elwyn, but you must take good care of her."

"I will do my best, Mrs. Danby," said Agnes, "but one thing I shall insist upon, and that is, that Bella shall obey me as my own little scholars do."

Miss Bella was not at all pleased with the idea of obeying any one, and so she was continually showing off her independent airs as they walked, hiding behind trees, describing eccentric circles around the rest of the party, or darting off in tangents. At length she became so troublesome, that Agnes determined to shorten their walk, and turned to retrace their steps; at this Miss Bella was highly indignant, and declared "that she would not go back, she would go on, down there by the water."

They were at this time near an open s.p.a.ce, which reached to the water, at the end of which was a dock, for the convenience of those who wished to go out upon the lake in boats. Agnes endeavored to detain the wilful child, but she suddenly pulled away from her, and started like the wind for the dock. Agnes called, and the children screamed, in vain; faster and faster ran the little witch, still looking behind every moment to see if she was pursued, till at length she tripped over a log, and fell far out into the water. Agnes clasped her hands in speechless terror, while the cries of the children were loud and agonizing. Just then a boat in which were two gentlemen rounded a point of land near them, and made rapidly for the struggling child, who in another moment was lifted into the boat, and handed up to the arms of Agnes.

Agnes was too much agitated to take particular notice of these strangers, but taking off her shawl she wrapped the dripping child in it, while one of her preservers carried her into a cottage near by, Agnes and the still weeping children following. When the child was placed in the kind woman's bed, and little Rosa was sent home to ask Susan for some clothes to put on her, with special directions not to alarm Mrs. Danby, Agnes returned to the sitting-room of the cottage, to thank the strangers who had so opportunely come to their a.s.sistance, when what was her astonishment to find that one of them was her old friend, Tom Wharton.

"And you knew I was in town, Mr. Wharton, and have been here three or four days without coming to see me," said she.

"Oh! you know I don't do things just like other people," answered Tom; "and to tell the truth, though I have no fear of ghosts and hobgoblins, I have not yet had the courage to face two famous man-hunters, who I hear reside under the same roof with you, Agnes. But it is time I should introduce you to my friend Mr. Harrington, the present proprietor of "the Rookery," together with all the spirits, black and white, red and grey, who are the inhabitants thereof."

Agnes was glad to meet Mr. Harrington, of whom she had often heard her uncle speak in terms of great admiration, as an accomplished gentleman and a Christian; and one who used the large property he had inherited in deeds of benevolence and usefulness. They had been for some time in conversation about the friends at Brook Farm, from whom the two gentlemen had lately parted, when little Rosa returned.

Rosa found that her older sisters and Mrs. Danby had gone out for a walk; so it was a very easy matter to get some dry clothes for Bella, and bring her safe home before her mother heard of the accident. What was the surprise of the Misses Fairland, as, in coming down the street, they saw Agnes returning, accompanied by one of the handsome strangers whose acquaintance they had been "dying" to make; while the other followed, carrying little Bella Danby in his arms. A few words sufficed to tell the story of the accident, and to introduce the strangers, who, with the utmost cordiality, were urged to come in; an invitation which was unhesitatingly accepted by Mr. Harrington, and rather reluctantly by Mr. Tom Wharton. Mrs. Danby, pale and agitated, took her little darling in her arms, and hurried to her own room, there to administer certain restoratives, and, much against the young lady's will, to place her again in bed.

Mr. Harrington, having now gained the _entree_ to Mr. Fairland's house, seemed inclined to be a frequent visitor, much to the gratification of the ladies Calista and Evelina, who laid siege to him right and left. If my reader possessed the key to Mr. Harrington's real object in coming to Wilston, perhaps he would be as much amused as the gentleman himself at the efforts, so exceedingly apparent, to gain for one of them possession of his hand and fortune; for that Mr. Harrington was wealthy, they were well a.s.sured. They each kept out a _hook_, too, for Mr. Tom Wharton, in case the other was successful in taking the more valuable prey; but the bait was by no means tempting to Mr. Tom, who darted off, leaving his friend, unsupported and alone, to resist the attacks of these practised, but hitherto unsuccessful anglers.

"Well, Harrington," said Mr. Tom Wharton to his friend one day, "since your object in bringing me down here with you is accomplished, I must now leave you to your fate. What that may be, in the midst of attacks from spirits by night, and from more substantial persecutors by day, I cannot divine; but if there is anything left of you, I shall hope to see you in the city before long, and to hear the account you have to give of yourself."

"I thank you for your services thus far, my dear friend," said Mr.

Harrington; "still, I think it would be the part of disinterested friendship to stay and help me a little longer."

"I can't--I can't stand it, Harrington. _You_ may be able to bear it better; but I'm not used to this sort of thing, and I don't know how to get along with it at all. Your case is a hard one, I acknowledge, my friend; but having some business of my own to attend to, I must leave you to fight out your own battles." And Mr. Tom Wharton, resolutely closed his ears to his friend's appeals, and took his departure.

A beautiful little boat which Mr. Harrington had ordered from the city having arrived, he called, one afternoon, at Mr. Fairland's, to ask the ladies if they would take a sail with him upon the lake. Most eagerly the Misses Fairland consented, and were leaving the room to prepare to go, when Mr. Harrington turned to Agnes, who happened to be in the room, and said:

"May I not hope for the pleasure of Miss Elwyn's company too?" Upon which Miss Evelina, with a childishly-confidential air, raised herself on tiptoe, and whispered in his ear:

"It is not _at all_ necessary to ask her: we never feel obliged to, I a.s.sure you. She is only _governess to the children_."

But Mr. Harrington renewed his invitation, which Agnes had respectfully declined, when Mr. Fairland entered the room, and Mr. Harrington appealed to him.

"Go? Certainly Agnes must go; she has never been on the lake in a sail-boat, and I have often heard her say she would delight to go. Come, Agnes! put on your things without a word, and go along."

Thus urged, Agnes consented to go, though she felt a little uncomfortable at the silent displeasure of the Misses Fairland. There was a pleasant breeze, and the little boat flew like a bird over the dancing waves. Agnes, a devoted admirer of nature, was in an ecstasy which she could not conceal, as one beautiful view succeeded another during their sail up the lake; but the other ladies were so much occupied in trying the effect of _art_, that they had no eye for the beauties of _nature_. The breeze soon died away, leaving them far from home, and Mr. Harrington was obliged to take to his oars; and long before the village was in sight, the gentle moon had begun her walk through "golden gates," throwing across the water a brilliant column of light, sparkling and dancing in glorious beauty on the gentle ripples of the lake.

"Now is the time for music," said Mr. Harrington; "for truly

'Music sounds the sweetest Over the rippling waves.'"

But for once the Misses Fairland were obliged to relinquish the opportunity of charming by their united voices; the only music in which they were practised, and which they thought worth listening to, being of the flourishing, trilling, running, quavering, shrieking kind; and this they could not attempt without their "notes" and the "instrument." Mr.

Harrington then proposed to Agnes to sing some sweet old-fashioned airs; and laying down his oars, he took a seat beside her, and joined his rich tenor to the strangely-melodious tones of her voice; and as the harmony floated over the water, it seemed almost like the music of heaven. This was a state of things by no means agreeable to the two neglected ladies in the other end of the boat, and Miss Calista began to be afraid of the night air, and Miss Evelina was taken with a hacking cough; so that Mr.

Harrington was obliged to resume his oars, and row them rapidly to the village.

Mr. Harrington consented to moor his boat, and accompany the ladies up to the house to tea. Anxious to try the effect of their own accomplishments, the Misses Fairland, soon after tea, led the conversation to the subject of music, and were easily persuaded to attempt, with the "notes" and "instrument," some of their favorite songs. And now began a flourishing and screaming unparalleled in the annals of music. Miss Calista screamed, "I love only thee!" and then Miss Evelina shrieked, "I love only thee!" and then Miss Calista trilled it--and Miss Evelina howled it--and Miss Calista quavered it--and Miss Evelina ran it--and then one of them started on it, and the other ran and caught up with her--and then one burred for some time on thee-e-e-e-e, while the other ran up and down, still a.s.serting as rapidly as possible, and insisting boldly, and stoutly a.s.severating, "I love only thee!"--and then, with a combined shriek, they made known the fact once more and finally, and then the ears of their hearers were allowed to rest.

"Now, girls, if you have done with that clatter," said Mr. Fairland, "I want Agnes to sing for _me_ one of those sweet old Scotch songs; it will be quite refreshing after all this screeching."

"Oh!" said Miss Calista, rising from the instrument, and casting up her eyes at Mr. Harrington, "my dear old papa has the _oddest, old-fashioned_ taste!"

But as soon as Agnes began to sing, it seemed as if Mr. Harrington's taste was quite as "odd" and "old-fashioned" as that of the "dear old papa" himself; for he was guilty of the impropriety of not hearing what Miss Evelina was saying to him, and soon rose and took his stand by the piano, where he showed very plainly that he had no ear for any other sound than that of Agnes' voice.

Agnes went to bed with some very pleasant thoughts that night; for, though tongues may be silent, _eyes_ can tell their story very soon; and it _is_ a pleasant thing to find one's self an object of interest to some n.o.ble heart; and particularly grateful was it to Agnes, in her present lonely, toiling life. And she needed all the inward peace and comfort she possessed, to enable her to bear the increased ill-nature of Mrs. Fairland and her daughters; for the "mamma" was no less displeased than the young ladies themselves at the prospect of the failure of one of their cherished plans.

And now, when Mr. Harrington called, there was generally some excuse contrived for sending Agnes from the room, and for keeping her busy in some other part of the house; and though Agnes was indignant at this evident desire to get her out of the way, by putting upon her labor which they had no right to require of her, yet, at the time, and in Mr.

Harrington's presence, she would not contest the point, but quietly left the room. This never happened, however, when Mr. Fairland was present, as the good man, if he had fully seen through all the plans of his wife and daughters, could not have discomfited them more surely than he always contrived to do.

In the meantime, the ladies Calista and Evelina never for a moment relaxed their efforts, or ceased to practise their arts, upon the wealthy and agreeable stranger.

"How _charming_ your place must her Mr. Harrington!" said Miss Evelina one evening; "I do delight in these old haunted mansions; there is something so delightfully romantic about them."

"And have you really heard any of these strange noises at night?" asked Miss Calista.

"Noises?--enough of them," he answered; "I have sometimes been so disturbed, that I could not sleep at all."

"And what _did_ you do?" asked the young ladies in a breath, their eyes dilating with horror.

"Why, in the first place," said Mr. Harrington, "I bought a _terrier_, and in the next a large _rat-trap_; and by means of both, I succeed in laying several of the spirits every night, and have strong hopes that, before long, perfect quiet will be restored to the haunted mansion."

Then calling Jessie, who was in the room, to his side, Mr. Harrington took her in his lap, and said:

"You remind me very much of a little blue-eyed, flaxen-haired girl I have in the city."

"Why, have you a little girl?" Mr. Harrington, asked the young ladies.

"Yes, two of them," he answered.

"Oh, how I _doat_ on children!" exclaimed Miss Calista.

"Cousin Agnes, what is the meaning of _doat_?" screamed Master Frank, running up to Agnes, who just then entered the room.

"What is it to _doat_ on any one?"