The Best Horrors by F. Marion Crawford. Francis Marion Crawford
"No — no — no ! You never loved me — it was only I who loved, and loved to death, too well, too long, too sinfully! "
With streaming eyes the dead woman looked despairingly at the dead man, and then with a cry she turned and fled through the soft dusk into the darkness beyond. But Francis stood still, looking sorrowfully after her, his hands hanging listlessly by his sides, his eyes moistened with tears. Then he turned to Lady Brenda.
"And so it is," he said, " that our sins pursue us for ever and cannot be forgotten. I tell you, I love her — I never really loved another woman, and I know it now. But she can never know it, until all this is over. The sin of loving her pursues me even in death — ah, madam, it is all too great and deep for me to understand."
"I am sorry she came — indeed I am," said Lady Brenda. "She has made you more unhappy than you were before."
"Yes," answered the dead man. " When we are alive we often long for something that is not good, and when we have it, we are disappointed. But when we are dead we are doomed to long for the same things, and when they are given to us they are more bitter in one moment than all the pains of ten lifetimes. If pain could kill us now, we should die every hour, every minute."
"You had so often wished to see her," said Lady Brenda, sympathetically.
"Indeed, that is true. I had wished it as I never wished anything in my life. You have seen me get my wish — you have seen my suffering. Do you think that such pain changes us ? No, we can never change. What we have made ourselves we must remain, who knows? perhaps for ever. We suffer, and have no rest. All that the heart feels from boyhood to old age, we feel at every instant of this eternity. Do you wonder that when it is possible we rejoice at meeting the living, and speaking with them, and dreaming for one moment that we are alive again, and subject to change ? "
"But there is hope still left to you," argued the lady.
"Hope — but such hope as you would not call hope at all. Do not speak to a dead man of hope, madam. It means the end. It is not hope, but doubt, for with the certainty of change, when time shall have worn itself out, there is the indescribable fear, the agony of uncertainty, the horror of what that change may be."
Lady Brenda shuddered and drew her shawl more closely around her. In the distance below she heard the sound of voices, Gwendoline's ringing laugh and Chard's deep tones as he called to the sailors. The boat had come back and the party were landing. The king held out his hand.
"I thank you for this pleasant hour, madam," he said, simply.
"Your majesty is not going ? " asked Lady Brenda, almost ludicrously forgetful, for the moment, that her visitor was only a ghost. But she started as she took his hand which chilled her to the bone.
"Yes, I am going. But we shall meet again very soon," he answered, and in a moment he had left her.
CHAPTER VIII.
" I have made up my mind that I will never be surprised at anything again," said Lady Brenda, as the party sat at their mid-day breakfast on the day after the events last recorded. She had been telling the rest about the king's visit.
"You are quite right," answered Augustus. " You are quite right, my dearly beloved mother-in-law. Surprise is nothing but a disturbance in the balance of the faculties. Now, when a woman possesses faculties like yours it is a pity that they should not be always balanced."
"Really, Augustus— "
"Quite so," continued Chard,imperturbably. "When once you have discovered that we are likely to meet dead men who talk very agreeably, almost every day, it is as well to make the most of your opportunities. The phenomenon will probably be explained some day; meanwhile let us enjoy it as much as we can. It would be very pleasant, if these charming people could dine with us, but I gather from various things that they do not dine at all, nor even breakfast. Who is going on the expedition this afternoon ? "
"We all are," said the three ladies, with a unanimity as rarely found in the country when a walk is proposed, as it is general in town when there is a ball.
They had determined to take a long walk among the mountains, and, as the day was comparatively cool, they started immediately after breakfast. Augustus led them up the rocky path, past their little stone hut which was the centre of his experiments, and along the steep side of the mountain over the sea. They were all four good, walkers and fond of exercise.
" It would be very amusing if some of our friends would walk with us," remarked Diana, as she picked her way over the rocks.
"Delightful," said Gwendoline, steadying herself with her stick upon the summit of a small boulder, and looking at the view.
"Dear me! " exclaimed Lady Brenda, " who can that be? Do you see, Augustus ? Such a very odd dress ! Do they still wear three-cornered hats in this part of the world — and brown coats with brass buttons?"
"He is a very big man," said Augustus, eyeing the stranger, who was coming down the rocks and was not more than a hundred yards from them. "A very big man indeed. He must be some old peasant. We will talk to him."
They walked on and in a few seconds came up to the solitary pedestrian. Augustus spoke to him. He was of colossal size, with a huge head surmounted by an old full-bottomed wig and a three-cornered hat. He wore knee-breeches and stockings, with stout buckled shoes, and he carried in his hand a huge oak stick, which looked more like a club. Augustus addressed him in the dialect of the hills.
"Me fat'u piace, m'andecat' a'ndusse wa p'anna a Pussita? "
"Sir," replied the stranger in English, in a loud, gruff voice, " from your appearance I take you to be an Englishman, like myself."
"I beg your pardon," said Augustus, very much surprised. " There are so few of our countrymen about here—"
"Your surprise is venial sir," returned the other, fixing his dark eyes on Chard's face. "I am not only an Englishman, but a dead Englishman; and, what is more, sir, I believe that a dead Englishman is better than a live Italian. I am Samuel Johnson."
"Dr. Johnson!" exclaimed the four living people in astonishment.
"Do not doctor me, sir," roared the great man in tremendous tones. "Do not doctor me, sir, for I am past doctoring!" He glared a moment at the party and then suddenly broke into a peal of laughter, in which the others soon joined.
"If I cannot frighten you," he continued, goodnaturedly, "I can at least excite your merriment. But, sir, I have seen little boys in Scotland tremble at the sight of this stick."
"You have found it, then?" said Augustus. "I congratulate you."
"Yes sir, they stole it, the villains; I always said so."
In a few minutes they all proceeded on their walk. Augustus stated who he was and presented Dr. Johnson to his three companions. The doctor showed the greatest delight and explained that he had just met the party of dead men, who were passing the afternoon among the rocks. He was intimate with them, he said, and they had told him all about Chard and his experiments. Indeed the doctor had taken the road towards the Castello del Gaudio in hopes of meeting the inhabitants of the castle.
"I wonder," said Augustus, " that you should care to walk here — you who are so fond of trees."
"Since I have hung loose on the world," replied Johnson, " and have been at liberty to walk where I please, and as long as I please, I have grown tolerant of contrast. It is one thing to be obliged to traverse a country where there is no timber; it is another matter to be independent of those laws which, while we are alive, force us to spend some time in moving from place to place."
"Do you think," asked Lady Brenda, " that when one has as many beautiful things as one likes, one begins to like ugly things, just for a change? "
"No, madam," said Johnson. " I do not like ugly things, but