Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 75: what you’re looking at

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62 Suddenly wiping away the tears, Kate appeared to grow calm: but several minutes elapsed before she would explain the cause of her previous excite- ment. Then, what she did say was in a few words, amounting only to this:— ‘that as she looked through the church-window, she saw the form of a man pass close by that window, but within the church; and that she did not recognise his face.’ No one pressed her for any farther explanations ; _ though we saw plainly enough that she had not told all—and we were at no loss to conjecture what it was she had left unsaid. The party broke up gloomy and out of spirits: and we with- drew to our respective homes. For some weeks I. thought that Kate Allen was not the same smiling light-hearted girl she used to be; but by degrees this impression on my mind wore off—she recovered her wonted spirifs—and the incident, which at first had made some little stir in the village, ceased to be spoken of. One day,—it must have been about three months ago, —I and Ben Cowper had work to do in the same field; and while talking together, the occurrence I have been relating was somehow or another re- vived. He then told me that it was five or six weeks after Midsummer’s Eve before he could get out of Kate what she really had seen on that par- ticular night: but at length she had yielded to his entreaties and given the fullest explanations. What she said was that she did recognise the countenance of the figure that passed the window inside the church: for that while so passing, it turned its face towards her—and that face was as pale as the dead! It was the face of Ben Cowper himself. But at the time that Kate thus completed her narrative to her lover, she said that haying since reflected upon the incident, she felt. assured it was only her fancy; and she moreover confessed that on passing through the churchyard—finding herself amongst the tombstones and the green graves—then hearing the solemn striking of the clock—and looking into the church, the very gloom of which was displayed by the star-light pouring in, —she was seized with a superstitious awe which but a few minutes previously she had little imagined herself to be capable of experiencing. It was therefore, she thought, that under this influence her imagination had conjured up before her the being who was oftenest in her mind, and concerning whose welfare she was naturally so solicitous. Such were the explanations which she gave to Ben Cowper soon after the occurrence, and which he recited to me three months ago. He himself entertained exactly the same view of the matter 27 Kate did,—attributing it all to her fancy; and therefore the incident did not trouble him in the least: for he never had been inclined to super- stition. I can’t say that I was equally well satis- fied upon the point: but of course I pretended to be—as I would not for the world frighten either Ben Cowper or Kate Allen by seeming to attach any importance to the affair. When last night I heard that Ben was missing, the thought flashed to my mind in a moment that something was wrong, and that Kate would have to pay too dear, poor girl! for her freak of last Midsummer’s Eve. So-it has proved; and I don’t think she will ever get over it.” When the man had ceased speaking, I sat pon- dering for several minutes upon the extraordinary JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. tale he had related. I myself was far from being superstitious. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, at the school where I was brought up, had always discouraged such a tendency on the part of the pupils—and had frequently laboured to prove that there were no such things as spectral visitations from the dead, nor warnings of a preternatural character. I therefore concluded that it was in reality only the’ effect of an excited imagination on Kate Allen’s’ part; though the accidental death of her lover within the year, might seem to give it a more awfully solemn complexion. Besides, I thought to” myself that whether Kate had gone to the church or not, this same fatal accident would have occur. red all the same, whatsoever cause had pro- duced it; and that it would be questioning the justice of heaven to suppose that the decree for the young man’s premature death had gone forth as a punishment for any act of thoughtless im- piety or daring levity on the part of his betrothed. “Is it surmised,” I asked, at lencth breaking silence, “how the poor young man came to be drowned ?” “Yes,” was the labourer’s response. “ Ben was in the habit of setting lines to catch eels; and the knowledge that he did so, made me and my com- rades just now follow the bank of the stream when we were on the search. It is to be supposed that Ben, on his way home last evening, tarried to lay his lines and fell in: but whether his foot slipped, or whether he was seized with a fit, can never be known. Poor fellow! it is a sad affair—a very sad affair.” ) With these words, the kind-hearted peasant wished me “ good day,” and struck across the fields —while I pursued the path leading back to Charl- ton Hall. On reaching the house, I told my fellow-servants all that had happened; and the* tragie circumstances furnished ample food for con- versation, not merely during the rest of that day, but for several days to come. ——— CHAPTER XV. MIDSUMMER’S EVE. THE lamentable incident produced a great im- pression upon my mind; and [I could not help very frequently meditating upon it. I reviewed all the arguments which my ingenuity suggested,’ to prove that the spectral apparition in the church was mere fancy on Kate Allen’s part, and that her lover’s death within the year was to be ae- counted for as one of those singular occurrences which, while appearing to be the fulfilment of a previous warning, in reality belong only to the chapter of accidents. But there was nevertheless within my mind a certain uneasy and superstitious doubt as to the validity of those arguments. The domestics were allowed access to certain shelves of books in his lordship’s library; and I searched amongst the volumes for any works which I could find treating of supernatural appearances. I dis- covered several; and the longer I read, the greater was the avidity with which I devoured their con- tents. I was astonished at the seeming authenti- cation of several of the narratives which I thus perused: I had never before imagined that there CORNICLOO@ A ec (E©)