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diff --git a/23552-0.txt b/23552-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc71e5b --- /dev/null +++ b/23552-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1101 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Phantom Of Bogue Holauba, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Phantom Of Bogue Holauba + 1911 + +Author: Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +Release Date: November 19, 2007 [EBook #23552] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM OF BOGUE HOLAUBA *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE PHANTOM OF BOGUE HOLAUBA + +By Charles Egbert Craddock + +1911 + + +Gordon never forgot the sensation he experienced on first beholding +it. There was no mist in the midnight. The moon was large and low. The +darkness of the dense, towering forests on either hand impinged in no +wise on the melancholy realm of wan light in which the Mississippi lay, +unshadowed, solitary, silent as always, its channel here a mile or more +in breadth. + +He had been observing how the mighty water-course was sending out its +currents into a bayou, called Bogue Holauba, as if the larger stream +were a tributary of the lesser. This peculiarity of the river in the +deltaic region, to throw off volume instead of continually receiving +affluents, was unaccustomed to him, being a stranger to the locality, +and for a moment it focussed his interest The next, his every faculty +was concentrated on a singular phenomenon on the bank of the bogue. + +He caught his breath with a gasp; then, without conscious volition, he +sought to explain it to his own shocked senses, to realize it as some +illusion, some combination of natural causes, the hour, the pallor +pervading the air, the distance, for his boat was near the middle of the +stream,--but the definiteness of the vision annulled his efforts. + +There on the broad, low margin, distinct, yet with a coercive conviction +of unreality, the figure of a man drawn in lines of vague light paced +slowly to and fro; an old man, he would have said, bent and wizened, +swaying back and forth, in expressive contortions, a very pantomime of +woe, wringing gaunt hands and arms above his head, and now and again +bowing low in recurrent paroxysms of despair. The wind held its breath, +and the river, mute as ever, made no sign, and the encompassing alluvial +wilderness stood for a type of solitude. Only the splashing of the +paddle of the “dug-out” gave token of the presence of life in all the +land. + +Gordon could not restrain his wonder. “What--what--is--that Thing--over +there on the bank of the bogue?” he called out to the negro servant who +was paddling the canoe. + +He was all unprepared for the effect of his words. Indeed, he was fain +to hold hard to the gunwales. For the negro, with a sudden galvanic +start, let slip the paddle from his hand, recovering it only by a mighty +lunge in a mechanical impulse of self-preservation. The dug-out, +the most tricksy craft afloat, rocked violently in the commotion and +threatened to capsize. Then, as it finally righted, its course was +hastily changed, and under the impetus of panic terror it went shooting +down the river at a tremendous speed. + +“Why, what does all this meant” demanded Gordon. + +“Don't ye talk ter me, boss!” the boatman, with chattering teeth, +adjured his passenger. “Don't ye talk ter me, boss! Don't tell me ye +seed somepin over dar on Bogue Holauba--'kase ef ye _do_ I'se gwine ter +turn dis dug-out upside down an' swim out ter de Arkansas side. I ain't +gwine ter paddle dis boat fur no ghost-seer, sure 's ye are born. I +ain't gwine ter have no traffickin' wid ghosts nur ghost-seers nuther. +I'd die 'fore de year's out, sure!” + +The sincerity of the servant's fright was attested by the change in +his manner. He had been hitherto all cheerful, though respectful, +affability, evidently bidding high for a tip. Now he crouched +disconsolate and sullen in his place, wielding the paddle with all his +might, and sedulously holding down his head, avoiding the stranger's +eye. + +Gordon felt the whole situation in some sort an affront to his dignity, +and the apparition being withdrawn from view by the changed direction, +he was in better case to take account of this,--to revolt at the uncouth +character of the craft and guide sent for him; the absence of any +member of his entertainers family to welcome the visitor, here at their +instance and invitation; the hour of the night; the uncanny incident of +the inexplicable apparition,--but when that thought recurred to him he +sheered off precipitately from the recollection. + +It had the salutary effect of predisposing him to make the best of the +situation. Being to a degree a man of the world and of a somewhat large +experience, he began to argue within himself that he could scarcely +have expected a different reception in these conditions. The great +river being at the stage known as “dead low water,” steamboat travel +was practically suspended for the season, or he could have reached his +destination more directly than by rail. An accident had delayed the +train some seven hours, and although the gasoline launch sent to meet +him at the nearest way-station had been withdrawn at nightfall, since +he did not arrive, as his sable attendant informed him, the dug-out had +been substituted, with instructions to wait all night, on the remote +chance that he might come, after all. + +Nevertheless, it was with an averse, disaffected gaze that he silently +watched the summit-line of foliage on either bank of the river glide +slowly along the sky, responsive to the motion of the boat. It seemed +a long monotony of this experience, as he sat listless in the canoe, +before a dim whiteness began to appear in a great, unbroken expanse in +the gradually enlarging riparian view--the glister of the moon on the +open cotton-bolls in the fields. The forests were giving way, the region +of swamp and bayou. The habitations of man were at hand, and when at +last the dug-out was run in to a plantation landing, and Kenneth Gordon +was released from his cramped posture in that plebeian craft, he felt +so averse to his mission, such a frivolous, reluctant distaste that he +marvelled how he was to go through with it at all, as he took his way +along the serpentine curves of the “dirt road,” preceded by his guide, +still with eyes averted and sullen mien, silently bearing his suit-case. + +A few turns, and suddenly a large house came into view, rearing its +white facade to the moonlight in the midst of a grove of magnolia trees, +immense of growth, the glossy leaves seeming a-drip with lustre as with +dew. The flight of steps and the wide veranda were here cumbered +with potted ferns and foliage plants as elsewhere, and gave the first +suggestion of conformity to the ways of the world that the adventure +had yet borne. The long, broad, silent hall into which he was ushered, +lighted only by a kerosene hand-lamp which the servant carried as he led +the way, the stairs which the guest ascended in a mansion of unconscious +strangers, all had teerie intimations, and the comfort and seclusion of +the room assigned to Gordon was welcome indeed to him; for, argue as he +might, he was conscious of a continuous and acute nervous strain. He had +had a shock, he was irritably aware, and he would be glad of rest and +quiet. + +It was a large, square, comfortable room in one of the wings, +overlooking a garden, which sent up a delectable blend of fragrance +and dew through the white muslin curtains at the long, broad windows, +standing open to the night. On a table, draped with the inevitable +“drawn-work” of civilization, stood a lamp of finer fashion, but no +better illuminating facilities, than the one carried off by the darky, +who had made great haste to leave the room, and who had not lifted his +eyes toward the ill-omened “ghost-seer” nor spoken a word since Gordon +had blurted out his vision on Bogue Holauba. This table also bore a tray +with crackers and sandwiches and a decanter of sherry, which genially +intimated hospitable forethought. The bed was a big four-poster, which +no be-dizenment could bring within the fashion of the day. Gordon had +a moment's poignant recoil from the darkness, the strangeness, the +recollection of the inexplicable apparition he had witnessed, as his +head sank on the pillow, embroidered after the latest fads. + +He could see through the open window that the moon was down at last and +the world abandoned to gloom. He heard from out some neighboring swamp +the wild lamenting cry of the crane; and then, listen as he might, the +night had lapsed to silence, and the human hearts in this house, all +unknown to him, were as unimagined, as unrelated, as unresponsive, as +if instead of a living, breathing home he lay in some mute city of the +dead. + +The next moment, as it seemed, a sky as richly azure as the boasted +heavens of Italy filled his vision as he lifted himself on his elbow. +A splendid, creamy, magnolia bloom was swaying in the breeze, almost +touching the window-sill. There was a subdued, respectful knocking at +the door, which Gordon had a vague idea that he had heard before this +morning, preceding the announcement that breakfast was waiting. Tardily +mindful of his obligations as guest, he made all the speed possible in +his toilet, and soon issued into the hall, following the sound of voices +through the open doors, which led him presently to the threshold of the +breakfast-room. + +There were two ladies at the table, one of venerable aspect, with short, +white curls, held from her face by side-combs, a modish breakfast-cap, +and a morning-gown of thin gray silk. The other was young enough to +be her daughter, as indeed she was, dressed in deep mourning. Rising +instantly from her place as hostess behind the silver service, she +extended her hand to the stranger. + +“Mr. Gordon, is it not? I was afraid you would arrive during the night. +Mercy! So uncomfortable! How good of you to come--yes, indeed.” + +She sank into her chair again, pressing her black-bordered handkerchief +to her dark eyes, which seemed to Gordon singularly dry, round, and +glossy--suggestive of chestnuts, in fact. “So good of you to come,” she +repeated, “to the house of mourning! Very few people have any talent for +woe, Mr. Gordon. These rooms have housed many guests, but not to weep +with us. The stricken deer must weep alone.” + +She fell to hysterical sobbing, which her mother interrupted by a +remonstrant “My dear, my dear!” A blond young man with a florid cheek +and a laughing blue eye, who sat in an easy posture at the foot of the +table, aided the diversion of interest “Won't you introduce me, Mrs. +Keene?--or must I take the opportunity to tell Mr. Gordon that I am Dr. +Rigdon, very much at his service.” + +“Mercy! yes, yes, indeed!” Mrs. Keene acceded as the two young men shook +hands; then, evidently perturbed by her lack of ceremony, she exclaimed +pettishly, “Where is Geraldine? She always sees to it that everybody +knows everybody, and that everybody is served at a reception or a tea. I +never have to think of such things if _she_ is in the house.” + +The allusions seemed to Gordon a bit incongruous with the recent heavy +affliction of the household. The accuracy with which the waves of red +hair, of a rich tint that suggested chemicals, undulated about the brow +of the widow, the art with which the mourning-gown brought out all the +best points and subdued the defects of a somewhat clumsy figure, the +suspicion of a cosmetic's aid in a dark line, scarcely perceptible +yet amply effective, under the prominent eyes, all contributed to the +determination of a lady of forty-five years of age to look thirty. + +“Geraldine is always late for breakfast, but surely she ought to be down +by this time,” Mrs. Brinn said, with as much acrimony as a mild old lady +could well compass. + +“Oh, Geraldine reads half the night,” explained Mrs. Keene. “Such an +injurious habit! Don't you think so, Mr. Gordon?” + +“Oh, _she_ is all right,” expostulated the young physician. + +“Geraldine has a constitution of iron, I know,” Mrs. Keene admitted. +“But, mercy!--to live in books, Mr. Gordon. Now, _I_ always wanted +to live in life,--in the world! I used to tell Mr. Keene”--even she +stumbled a trifle in naming the so recent dead. “I used to tell him that +he had buried the best years of my life down here in the swamp on the +plantation.” + +“Pleasant for Mr. Keene,” Gordon thought. + +“I wanted to live in life,” reiterated Mrs. Keene. “What is a glimpse of +New Orleans or the White Sulphur Springs once in a great while!” + +“'This world is but a fleeting show,'” quoted Rigdon, with a palpable +effort to laugh off the inappropriate subject. + +“Oh, that is what people always tell the restricted, especially when +they are themselves drinking the wine-cup to the bottom.” + +“And finding the lees bitter,” said Rigdon. + +The widow gave an offhand gesture. “You learned that argument from +Geraldine--he is nothing but an echo of Geraldine, Mr. Gordon--now, +isn't he, Mamma?” she appealed directly to Mrs. Brinn. + +“He seems to have a great respect for Geraldine's opinion,” said Mrs. +Brinn primly. + +“If I may ask, who is this lady who seems to give the law to the +community?” inquired Gordon, thinking it appropriate to show, and really +beginning to feel, an interest in the personnel of the entourage. “Am I +related to her, as well as to Mr. Keene?” + +“No; Geraldine is one of the Norris family--intimate friends of ours, +but not relatives. She often visits here, and in my affliction and +loneliness I begged her to come and stay for several weeks.” + +Not to be related to the all-powerful Geraldine was something of a +disappointment, for although Gordon had little sentiment or ideality in +his mental and moral system, one of his few emotional susceptibilities +lay in his family pride and clannish spirit He felt for his own, and he +was touched in his chief altruistic possibility in the appeal that had +brought him hither. To his amazement, Mr. Keene, a second cousin whom he +had seldom even seen, had named him executor of his will, without bond, +and in a letter written in the last illness, reaching its destination +indeed after the writer's death, had besought that Gordon would be +gracious enough to act, striking a crafty note in urging the ties of +consanguinity. + +But for this plea Gordon would have doubtless declined on the score +of pressure of business of his own. There were no nearer relatives, +however, and with a sense of obligation at war with a restive +indisposition, Gordon had come in person to this remote region to offer +the will for probate, and to take charge of the important papers and +personal property of the deceased. A simple matter it would prove, +he fancied. There was no great estate, and probably but few business +complications. + +“Going home, Dr. George?” his hostess asked as the young physician made +his excuses for quitting the table before the conclusion of the meal. + +“Dr. Bigdon is not staying in the house, then?” Gordon queried as the +door closed upon him, addressing the remark to the old lady by way of +politely including her in the conversation. + +“No, he is a neighbor of ours--a close and constant friend to us.” Mrs. +Brinn spoke as with grateful appreciation. + +Mrs. Keene took a different view. “He just hangs about here on +Geraldine's account,” she said. “He happens to be here today because +last night she took a notion that he must go all the way to Bogue +Holauba to meet you, if the train should stop at the station above; but +he was called off to attend a severe case of ptomaine poisoning.” + +“And did the man die?” Mrs. Brinn asked, with a sort of soft awe. + +“Mercy! I declare I forgot to ask him if the man died or not,” exclaimed +Mrs. Keene. “But that was the reason that only a servant was sent to +meet you, Mr. Gordon. The doctor looked in this morning to learn if you +had arrived safely, and we made him stay to breakfast with us.” + +Gordon was regretting that he had let him depart so suddenly. + +“I thought perhaps, as he seems so familiar with the place he might +show me where Mr. Keene kept his papers. I ought to have them in hand at +once.” Mrs. Keene remembered to press her handkerchief to her eyes, +and Gordon hastily added, “Since Dr. Big-don is gone, perhaps this +lady--what is her name?--Geraldine--could save you the trouble.” + +“Mercy, yes!” she declared emphatically. “For I really do not know where +to begin to look. Geraldine will know or guess. I'll go straight and +rouse Geraldine out of bed.” + +She preceded Gordon into the hall, and, flinging over her shoulder the +admonition, “Make yourself at home, I beg,” ran lightly up the stairs. + +Meantime Gordon strolled to the broad front door that stood open from +morning to night, winter and summer, and paused there to light his +cigar. All his characteristics were accented in the lustre of the vivid +day, albeit for the most part they were of a null, negative tendency, +for he had an inexpressive, impersonal manner and a sort of aloof, +reserved dignity. His outward aspect seemed rather the affair of his +up-to-date metropolitan tailor and barber than any exponent of his +character and mind. He was not much beyond thirty years of age, and +his straight, fine, dark hair was worn at the temples more by the +fluctuations of stocks than the ravages of time. He was pale, of medium +height, and slight of build; he listened with a grave, deliberate +attention and an inscrutable gray eye, very steady, coolly observant, an +appreciable asset in the brokerage business. He was all unaccustomed to +the waste of time, and it was with no slight degree of impatience that +he looked about him. + +The magnolia grove filled the space to the half-seen gate in front of +the house, but away on either side were long vistas. To the right the +river was visible, and, being one of the great bends of the stream, it +seemed to run directly to the west, the prospect only limited by the +horizon line. On the other side, a glare, dazzlingly white in the +sun, proclaimed the cotton-fields. Afar the gin-house showed, with its +smoke-stack, like an obeliscal column, from which issued heavy coils +of vapor, and occasionally came the raucous grating of a screw, telling +that the baler was at work. Interspersed throughout the fields were the +busy cotton-pickers, and now and again rose snatches of song as they +heaped the great baskets in the turn-rows. + +Within the purlieus of the inclosure about the mansion there was no +stir of industry, no sign of life, save indeed an old hound lying on the +veranda steps, looking up with great, liquid, sherry-tinted eyes at the +stranger, and, though wheezing a wish to lick his hand, unable to muster +the energy to rise. + +After an interval of a few moments Gordon turned within. He felt that he +must forthwith get at the papers and set this little matter in order. +He paused baffled at the door of the parlor, where satin damask and +rosewood furniture, lace curtains and drawn shades, held out no promise +of repositories of business papers. On the opposite side of the hall was +a sitting-room that bore evidence of constant use. Here was a desk +of the old-fashioned kind, with a bookcase as a superstructure, and a +writing-table stood in the centre of the floor, equipped with a number +of drawers which were all locked, as a tentative touch soon told. He +had not concluded its examination when a step and rustle behind him +betokened a sudden entrance. + +“Miss Geraldine Norris!” a voice broke upon the air,--a voice that he +had not before heard, and he turned abruptly to greet the lady as she +formally introduced herself. + +A veritable Titania she seemed as she swayed in the doorway. She was +a little thing, delicately built, slender yet not thin, with lustrous +golden hair, large, well-opened, dark blue eyes, a complexion daintily +white and roseate,--a fairy-like presence indeed, but with a prosaic, +matter-of-fact manner and a dogmatic pose of laying down the law. + +Gordon could never have imagined himself so disconcerted as when she +advanced upon him with the caustic query, “Why did you not ask Mrs. +Keene for her husband's keys? Surely that is simple enough!” She flung +a bunch of keys on a steel ring down upon the table. “Heavens! to be +roused from my well-earned slumbers at daybreak to solve this problem! +'Hurryf Hurry! Hurry!'” She mimicked Mrs. Keene's urgency, then broke +out laughing. + +“Now,” she demanded, all unaffected by his mien of surprised and +offended dignity, “do you think yourself equal to the task of fitting +these keys,--or shall I lend you my strong right arm!” + +It is to be doubted if Gordon had ever experienced such open ridicule +as when she came smiling up to the table, drawing back the sleeve of her +gown from her delicate dimpled wrist. She wore a white dress, such as +one never sees save in that Southern country, so softly sheer, falling +in such graceful, floating lines, with a deep, plain hem and no touch of +garniture save, perhaps, an edge of old lace on the surplice neck. The +cut of the dress showed a triangular section of her soft white chest and +all the firm modelling of her throat and chin. It was evidently not a +new gown, for a rent in one of the sleeves had been sewed up somewhat +too obviously, anil there was a darn on the shoulder where a rose-bush +had snagged the fabric. A belt of black velvet, with long, floating +sash-ends, was about her waist, and a band of black velvet held in place +her shining hair. + +“I am sorry to have been the occasion of disturbing you,” he said with +stiff formality, “and I am very much obliged, certainly,” he added, as +he took up the keys. + +“I may consider myself dismissed from the presence?” she asked saucily. +“Then, I will permit myself a cup of chocolate and a roll, and be ready +for any further commands.” + +She frisked out of the door, and, frowning heavily, he sat down to the +table and opened the top-drawer, which yielded instantly to the first +key that he selected. + +The first paper, too, on which he laid his hand was the will, signed and +witnessed, regularly executed, all its provisions seeming, as he glanced +through it, reasonable and feasible. As he laid it aside, he experienced +the business man's satisfaction with a document duly capable of the +ends desired. Then he opened with a sudden flicker of curiosity a bulky +envelope placed with the will and addressed to himself. He read it +through, the natural interest on his face succeeded by amazement, +increasing gradually to fear, the chill drops starting from every pore. +He had grown ghastly white before he had concluded the perusal, and for +a long time he sat as motionless as if turned to stone. + +The September day glowed outside in sumptuous splendor. A glad wind +sprang up and sped afield. Geraldine, her breakfast finished, a broad +hat canted down over her eyes, rushed through the hall as noisily as a +boy, prodded up the old hound, and ran him a race around the semicircle +of the drive. A trained hound he had been in his youth, and he was +wont to conceal and deny certain ancient accomplishments. But even +he realized that it was waste of breath to say nay to the persistent +Geraldine. He resigned himself to go through all his repertoire,--was a +dead dog, begged, leaped a stick back and forth, went lame, and in his +newly awakened interest performed several tricks of which she had +been unaware. Her joyful cries of commendation--“Played an encore! _an +encore!_ He did, he did! Cutest old dog in the United States!” caught +Mrs. Keene's attention. + +“Geraldine,” she screamed from an upper window, “come in out of the sun! +You will have a sun-stroke--and ruin your complexion besides! You know +you ought to be helping that man with those papers,--he won't be able +to do anything without you!” Her voice quavered on the last words, as if +she suddenly realized “that man” might overhear her,--as indeed he did. +But he made no sign. He sat still, stultified and stony, silently gazing +at the paper in his hands. + +When luncheon was announced, Gordon asked to have something light sent +in to him, as he wished not to be disturbed in his investigation of the +documents. He had scant need to apprehend interruption, however, while +the long afternoon wore gradually away. The universal Southern siesta +was on, and the somnolent mansion was like the castle of Sleeping +Beauty. The ladies had sought their apartments and the downy couches; +the cook, on a shady bench under the trellis, nodded as she seeded the +raisins for the frozen pudding of the six-o'clock dinner; the waiter had +succumbed in clearing the lunch-table and made mesmeric passes with the +dish-rag in a fantasy of washing the plates; the stable-boy slumbered +in the hay, high in the loft, while the fat old coachman, with a +chamois-skin in his hand, dozed as he sat on the step of the surrey, +between the fenders; the old dog snored on the veranda floor, and Mrs. +Keene's special attendant, who was really more a seamstress than a +ladies' maid, dreamed that for some mysterious reason she could not +thread a needle to fashion in a vast hurry the second mourning of her +employer, who she imagined would call for it within a week! + +Outside the charmed precincts of this Castle Indolence, the busy +cotton-pickers knew no pause nor stay. The steam-engine at the gin +panted throughout all the long hot hours, the baler squealed and rasped +and groaned, as it bound up the product into marketable compass, but +there was no one waking near enough to note how the guest of the mansion +was pacing the floor in a stress of nervous excitement, and to comment +on the fact. + +Toward sunset, a sudden commotion roused the slumbrous place. There had +been an accident at the gin,--a boy had been caught in the machinery and +variously mangled. Dr. George Eigdon had been called and had promptly +sewed up the wounds. A runner had been sent to the mansion for bandages, +brandy, fresh clothing, and sundry other collateral necessities of the +surgery, and the news had thrown the house into unwonted excitement. + +“The boy won't die, then?” Geraldine asked of a second messenger, as he +stood by the steps of the veranda, waiting for the desired commodities. + +“Lawdy,--_no_, ma'am! He is as good as new! Doc' George, _he_ fix him +up.” + +Gordon, whom the tumult had summoned forth from his absorptions, noted +Geraldine's triumphant laugh as she received this report, the toss of +her spirited little head, the light in her dark blue eyes, deepening +to sapphire richness, her obvious pride in the skill, the humanitarian +achievement, of her lover. Dr. George must be due here this evening, he +fancied. For she was all freshly bedight; her gown was embellished with +delicate laces, and its faint green hue gave her the aspect of some +water-sprite, posed against that broad expanse of the Mississippi River, +that was itself of a jade tint reflected from a green and amber sky; +at the low horizon line the vermilion sun was sinking into its swirling +depths. + +Gordon perceived a personal opportunity in the prospect of this guest +for the evening. He must have counsel, he was thinking. He could not act +on his own responsibility in this emergency that had suddenly confronted +him. He was still too overwhelmed by the strange experience he had +encountered, too shaken. This physician was a man of intelligence, of +skill in his chosen profession, necessarily a man worth while in many +ways. He was an intimate friend of the Keene family, and might the more +heartily lend a helping hand. The thought, the hope, cleared Gordon's +brow, but still the impress of the stress of the afternoon was so marked +that the girl was moved to comment in her brusque way as they stood +together on the cool, fern-embowered veranda. + +“Why, Mr. Gordon,” she exclaimed in surprise, “you have no idea how +strange you look! You must have overworked awfully this afternoon. Why, +you look as if you had seen a ghost!” + +To her amazement, he recoiled abruptly. Involuntarily, he passed his +hand over his face, as if seeking to obliterate the traces she had +deciphered. Then, with an obvious effort, he recovered a show of +equanimity; he declared that it was only because he was so tousled in +contrast with her fresh finery that she thought he looked supernaturally +horrible! He would go upstairs forthwith and array himself anew. + +Gordon proved himself a true prophet, for Rigdon came to dine. With the +postprandial cigars, the two gentlemen, at Gordon's suggestion, repaired +to the sitting-room to smoke, instead of joining their hostess on the +veranda, where tobacco was never interdicted. Indeed, they did not come +forth thence for nearly two hours, and were palpably embarrassed when +Geraldine declared in bewilderment, gazing at them in the lamplight +that fell from within, through one of the great windows, that now _both_ +looked as if they had seen a ghost! + +Despite their efforts to sustain the interest of the conversation, +they were obviously distrait, and had a proclivity to fall into sudden +silences, and Mrs. Keene found them amazingly unresponsive and dull. +Thus it was that she rose as if to retire for the night while the hour +was still early. In fact, she intended to utilize the opportunity to +have some dresses of the first mourning outfit tried on, for which the +patient maid was now awaiting her. + +“I leave you a charming substitute,” she said in making her excuses. +“Geraldine need not come in yet--it is not late.” + +Her withdrawal seemed to give a fresh impetus to some impulse with which +Rigdon had been temporizing. He recurred to it at once. “You contemplate +giving it to the public,” he said to Gordon; “why not try its effect on +a disinterested listener first, and judge from that?” + +Gordon assented with an extreme gravity that surprised Geraldine; then +Rigdon hesitated, evidently scarcely knowing how to begin. He looked +vaguely at the moon riding high in the heavens above the long, broad +expanse of the Mississippi and the darkling forests on either hand. +Sometimes a shaft of light, a sudden luminous glister, betokened the +motion of the currents gliding in the sheen. “Last night,” he said in +a tense, bated voice--“last night Mr. Gordon saw the phantom of Bogue +Holauba, Stop! Hush!”--for the girl had sprung half screaming from her +chair. “This is important.” He laid his hand on her arm to detain her. +“We want you to help us!” + +“Help you! Why, you scare me to death!” She had paused, but stood +trembling from head to foot. + +“There is something explained in one of Mr. Keene's papers,--addressed +to Mr. Gordon; and we have been much startled by the coincidence of +his--his vision.” + +“Did he see--really----?” Geraldine had sunk back in her chair, her face +ghastly pale. + +“Of course it must be some illusion,” said Rigdon. “The effect of the +mist, perhaps----” + +“Only, there was no mist,” said Gordon. + +“Perhaps a snag waving in the wind.” + +“Only, there was no wind.” + +“Perhaps a snag tossing in the motion of the water,--at all events, +you can't say there was no water.” Dr. Rigdon glanced at Gordon with a +genial smile. + +“Mighty little water for the Mississippi,” Gordon sought to respond in +the same key. + +“You know the record of these apparitions.” Leaning forward, one arm on +his knee, the document in question in his hand, Rigdon looked up into +Geraldine's pale face. “In the old days there used to be a sort of +water-gypsy, with a queer little trading-boat that plied the region +of the bends--a queer little old man, too--Polish, I think, foreign +certainly--and the butt of all the wags alongshore, at the stores and +the wood-yards, the cotton-sheds and the wharf-boats. By some accident, +it was thought, the boat got away when he was befuddled with drink in a +wood-chopper's cabin--a stout, trig little craft it was! When he +found it was gone, he was wild, for although he saw it afloat at a +considerable distance down the Mississippi, it suddenly disappeared near +Bogue Holauba, cargo and all. No trace of its fate was ever discovered. +He haunted these banks then--whatever he may have done since--screaming +out his woes for his losses, and his rage and curses on the miscreants +who had set the craft adrift--for he fully believed it was done in +malice--beating his breast and tearing his hair. The Civil War came on +presently, and the man was lost sight of in the national commotions. +No one thought of him again till suddenly something--an apparition, an +illusion, the semblance of a man--began to patrol the banks of Bogue +Holauba, and beat its breast and tear its hair and bewail its woes in +pantomime, and set the whole country-side aghast, for always disasters +follow its return.” + +“And how do you account for that phase?” asked Gordon, obviously +steadying his voice by an effort of the will. + +“The apparition always shows up at low water,--the disasters are usually +typhoid,” replied the physician. + +“Mr. Keene died from malaria,” + +Geraldine murmured musingly. + +The two men glanced significantly at each other. Then Rigdon resumed: +“I mustered the hardihood on one occasion to row up to the bank of Bogue +Holauba for a closer survey. The thing vanished on my approach. There +was a snag hard by, fast anchored in the bottom of the Bogue. It played +slackly to and fro with the current, but I could not see any way by +which it or its shadow could have produced the illusion.” + +“Is this what you had to tell me?” demanded Geraldine pertinently. “I +knew all that already.” + +“No, no,” replied the Doctor reluctantly. “Will you tell it, Mr. Gordon, +or shall I?” + +“You, by all means, if you will,” said Gordon gloomily. “God knows I +should be glad never to speak of it.” + +“Well,” Rigdon began slowly, “Mr. Gordon was made by his cousin Jasper +Keene not only the executor of his will, but the repository of a certain +confession, which he may destroy or make public as he sees proper. It +seems that in Mr. Keene's gay young days, running wild in his vacation +from college on a secluded plantation, he often lacked congenial +companionship, and he fell in with an uncouth fellow of a lower +social grade, who led him into much detrimental adventure. Among other +incidents of very poor fun, the two were notable in hectoring and guying +the old Polish trader, who, when drunk on mean whisky as he often was, +grew violent and antagonistic. He went very far in his denunciations one +fatal night, and by way of playing him a trick in return, they set his +boat adrift by cutting the rope that tied the craft to a tree on the +bank. The confession states that they supposed the owner was then aboard +and would suffer no greater hardship than having to use the sweeps +with considerable energy to row her in to a landing again. They were +genuinely horrified when he came running down the bank, both arms +out-stretched, crying out that his all, _his all_ was floating away on +that tumultutius, merciless tide. Before any skiff could be launched, +before any effort could be made to reach the trading-boat, she suddenly +disappeared. The Mississippi was at flood height, and it was thought +that the boat struck some drifting obstruction, swamped, and went down +in deep water. The agents in this disaster were never suspected, but as +soon as Jasper Keene had come of age, and had command of any means of +his own, his first act was to have an exhaustive search made for the +old fellow, with a view of financial restitution. But the owner of the +trading-boat had died, spending his last years in the futile effort to +obtain the insurance money. As the little he had left was never claimed, +no representative could profit by the restitution that Jasper Keene had +planned, and he found what satisfaction he could in giving it secretly +to an old man's charity. Then the phantom began to take his revenge. He +appeared on the banks of Bogue Holauba, and straightway the only child +of the mansion sickened and died. Mr. Keene's first wife died after the +second apparition. Either it was the fancy of an ailing man, or perhaps +the general report, but he notes that the spectre was bewailing its woes +along the banks of Bogue Holauba when Jasper Keene himself was stricken +by an illness which from the first he felt was fatal.” + +“I remember--I remember it was said at the time,” Geraldine barely +whispered. + +“And now to the question: he leaves it to Mr. Gordon as his kinsman, +solicitous of the family repute, to judge whether this confession +should be made public or destroyed.” + +“Does he state any reasons for making it public?” demanded Geraldine, +taking the document and glancing through its pages. + +“Yes; as an expiation of his early misdeeds toward this man and, if any +such thing there be, to placate the spirit of his old enemy; and lastly +better to secure his peace with his Maker.” + +“And which do you say!” Geraldine turned an eager, spirited face toward +Gordon, his dejected attitude and countenance distinctly seen in the +light from the lamp within the parlor, on a table close to the window. + +“I frankly admit that the publication of that confession would humiliate +me to the ground, but I fear that it _ought_ to be given to the public, +as he obviously desires!” + +“And which do _you_ say!” Geraldine was standing now, and swiftly +whirled around toward Dr. Bigdon. + +“I agree with Mr. Gordon--much against my will--but an honest confession +is good for the soul!” he, replied ruefully. + +“You infidels!” she exclaimed tumultuously. “You have not one atom of +Christian faith between you! To imagine that _you_ can strike a bargain +with the good God by letting a sick theory of expiation of a dying, +fever-distraught creature besmirch his repute as a man and a gentleman, +make his whole life seem like a whited sepulchre, and bring his name +into odium,--as kind a man as ever lived,--and you know it!--as honest, +and generous, and whole-souled, to be held up to scorn and humiliation +because of a boyish prank forty years ago, that precipitated a disaster +never intended,--bad enough, silly enough, even wicked enough, but not +half so bad and silly and wicked as _you_, with your morbid shrinking +from moral responsibility, and your ready contributive defamation of +character. Tell me, you men, is this a testamentary paper, and you think +it against the law to destroy it!” + +“No, no, not that,” said Bigdon. + +“No, it is wholly optional,” declared Gordon. + +“Then, I will settle the question for you once for all, you wobblers!” + She suddenly thrust the paper into the chimney of the lamp on the table +just within the open window, and as it flared up she flung the document +forth, blazing in every fibre, on the bare driveway below the veranda. +“And now you may find, as best you can, some other means of exorcising +the phantom of Bogue Holauba!” + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Phantom Of Bogue Holauba, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM OF BOGUE HOLAUBA *** + +***** This file should be named 23552-0.txt or 23552-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/5/23552/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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