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'THE

A TALE OF ALL HALLOW EVE.

CHAPTER I.

THEN I may count upon you, old fellow?'

'Of course you may. I will do a friend's duty in standing by you till the last; and I hope you will do me credit by making an edifying ending on the day you are turned off.'

For a tolerably sensible man, Philip Thornton has a good many weak points; little superstitions are among them.

"There, there,' he says testily, 'don't talk of "the last," and "ending," if you please, Hawksley, in connection with my marriage. I hate the stupid custom of making jokes about matrimony, as if it was not as serious a thing as

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'As death, or birth, or any other calamity that happens to us by the pre-ordained decrees of Providence.'

'There you are again-" death," and "calamity," exclaims Philip, bouncing out of his chair, and pacing the room; and as to marriages being pre-ordained, why-'

'Why, then, yours was made in heaven, I don't doubt, my dear Philip,' said I soothingly.

'Well, I hope so,' he answered, sitting down again. She is a dear, good girl, as true as steel, and as modest and retiring as-as-well, as girls are not always in these days. None of your ball-room flirts, or fast girls, I thank my stars! Guy, I wish Mary had a sister just like herself, for your sake!’

Thank you very kindly, old boy; but my fate, as far as marriage goes, is fixed.'

"What!' inquired Philip, with a kind interest befitting a friendship of some standing. "There has been some reason, then, for your never seeming to think about forming that tie: some disappointment perhaps.'

'I am waiting for the "hour and the woman," Philip, and the only disappointment in the matter is, that she is rather long of coming.'

Philip threw himself back in his chair with an ejaculation of peevish disgust.

'I never saw any fellow like you, Hawksley; one never seems to have your confidence, or to know your jest from earnest.'

'I am in veritable earnest now then, Philip; and to prove it, you shall have my confidence too, if you care about it,' said I, seeing that he was really ruffled. I was fond of Philip, and had no more intimate friend than he; but I do not know that I should have volunteered this confidence even to him, if it had not been for those very little weaknesses that I have mentioned as pertaining to him. No Turk was ever a more profound believer in fate than Philip Thornton; and though not in general very sympathising with my friend's superstitions, they certainly gained him on this occasion the relation of a very curious personal experience of my own, which though I was constantly pooh-poohing, and trying to find an every-day explanation of to myself, I should have been perversely annoyed and averse to hearing pooh-poohed, by any other man.

Confidence be hanged!' grumbled Philip, still irate. 'I suppose I shall only hear again that you are waiting for the "hour and the woman," in company with the rest of unyoked mankind.'

'With a slight difference, in which, nevertheless, lies the very cream of the thing, that is what you will hear,' I answered, if you hear it at all.'

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'Hear it at all! Oh! come now, no going back from your word, Guy. Pass the regalias - there couldn't be more heavenly aids to attention, and I'm only sorry, for your sake, that talking with one between your lips isn't as easy as listening. Shall we draw up to the window? The moonlight on the water and all that, sets off a story charmingly, when it's of a tender or romantic nature.'

'Only this isn't. But never mind, the moonlight will suit it well enough, as it happens. Philip, did you ever indulge in the weakness of

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attempting to forecast your destiny in respect of matrimony, on All Hallow Eve, by eating the salt egg, halving the apple, and so on? No, of course you never did. But I-perhaps I had better begin at the beginning though, and in due form. While I was down in last October, I made some very pleasant chance acquaintances with whom I spent nearly all my time, only returning at night to the rooms I had near Blythe. I dined with the Blairs on the last day of October, and we were very merry round the fire after dinner, burning nuts, and telling our fortunes from them. This led to talking about the charms for discovering your future husband or wife proper to the day, and to my laying a wager with Nelly Blair that I would go through any one of the mystical ceremonies she liked to appoint, that night, and relate the result to her the next morning. The bet was my Scotch greyhound Bran, against a little scarlet ribbon Miss Nelly wore in her hair: that I would return to my rooms that night; at twelve o'clock, set out the mystical supper, open the door, and await the spectral guest for one hour. The girls minutely detailed all the ceremonies proper to the occasion, and they sounded amusing enough, in the lighted dining-room, with many faces and plenty of jokes and laughter round one; but let me tell you, Philip, the aspect of things was slightly different when I walked into my solitary quarters at the old rambling house where I was located for the time being, shortly before twelve o'clock midnight. As far as I knew, my landlady and a maid-servant or two were the only other occupants of the house; and as my habits were anything but regular I was accommodated with a key wherewith to let myself in at any hour without disturbing the household. As I parted with Jem Blair at the door, and walked into the quiet house, which had that kind of hush upon it that one always notices on entering a house when everyone is in bed and asleep, I thought of my wager with something like distaste for the first time. I took the light that was left burn

ing for me, however, and went up to my solitary sitting-room. A slight supper was set out for me as usual, but the fire had burned down to a mere heap of dull red ashes, and the low-pitched, heavily-furnished old room looked very ghostly and weird somehow, in the great flood of moonlight that poured in through the window. I thought then, and I've thought since, that I never saw moonlight so bright as it was that night. By some chance, too, there was only one candle on the table; and when I had lighted that, it left so much of the room in deep shadow, that I pulled up the blind to let in all the light I could get from without, not feeling inclined, under the circumstances, to pass an hour in semi-darkness, though the combination of vivid moonbeams and the dim candlelight made up some very odd and queer effects. I tried to stir up the fire into something like life, but it was too far gone, so I had nothing for it but to resign myself to perform the appointed ceremonies, though I felt less and less inclination for them every minute. Once, for an instant, I had even some thought of forfeiting the stakes, may Bran forgive me! but I could not have stood the inextinguishable laughter and triumph of the Blair girls over my lapse of courage; so I went up to the table, set out the plates, placed chairs before them, sat down in one, and helped myself to something on the table. But I felt a very decided reluctance to commence eating, or to look towards the open door, through which, according to tradition, the future partner of my life, something in her image at least, ought now to come gliding, to occupy the empty chair opposite to mine. I poured out a glass of sherry, but I had not touched it, when I thought to myself that a cigar would be a consolation.

'I wonder whether the lady objects to smoking,' I said to myself as I looked round the room for my cigar-box; but, however, as my future, the sooner she reconciles herself to the inevitable the better. Where the deuce are my havannahs? Ah! I remember taking them into the bedroom this morning.'

My bedroom opening out of the sitting-room, I walked into it without removing the candle from the table, knowing that I could put my hand upon the cigars immediately. The bed was a huge fourposter, occupying the largest half of the room, and I was carefully coasting round it on my return, with the cigar-box in my hand, when, as I came to a point that commanded a view of the other room, I beheld coming quietly and slowly in through the open door, the figure of a female-a lady-a young ladywhose face was perfectly unknown to me. Now, Philip, I am not ashamed to say that the queerest and most uncomfortable sensation I ever had in my life, went creeping through all my veins as I looked. I couldn't move. I stood stock still, staring at the thing, the spectre, the illusion, or whatever it was, as it glided up to the table, stood an instant with a kind of quiet expectant look on its face, which I can recal distinctly even now, and then sitting down, deliberately helped itself to something on the table, fruit I think, and either ate, or seemed to.'

'But,' said Philip; 'did no possibility of some trick occur to you, man?'

'Not then, I am bound to say. I was so completely taken aback, floored, by the apparent success of the spell or charm, I had practised. And though I have thought the whole over often enough since, I am obliged to come to the conclusion that no trick on the part of the Blairs could possibly have been played me. I don't know whether the figure sat at the table five minutes or ten-all notion of time left me; but at any rate, before I could summon up courage to move, it rose from the table, walked to the fireplace, paused there a moment, then glided down the long track of moonlight on the floor, out by the open door, and so vanished.'

And you never hit upon any explanation of the mystery?'

No: but as soon as the presence, or whatever it may be called, was fairly away, the spell that held me vanished too. I dashed back into the sitting-room and out of the

door to see, if I could, what had become of it; but everything was quiet, and not a thing stirred in the passage, or on the stairs outside. I can't say I had a very comfortable night, but I slept late into the next morning, and while at breakfast I took an opportunity of asking the girl who waited on me, whether there were any lodgers in the house beside myself.

'No,' she said; there had been a gentleman, an artist body she believed, but he had left that morning.'

What kind of person was he; what like in looks, I mean?'

'A tall gentleman, tall and stout, with a beard.'

Any idea that there might have been some masquerading on this gentleman's part for my benefit, vanished. The figure I saw was as slender as a willow wand; it had a delicate-featured face, and if one could appropriately describe a ghost as pretty, I should say this one was decidedly so.'

'Very queer, certainly,' quoth Philip, meditatively; and you have never seen any one since that agreed with your remembrance of the-the -whatever it was?'

'Never, though I dare say you will understand that the idea that I may do so at any time gives me a weird kind of interest in all assemblages of the women folk. I feel sometimes quite like a mediæval hero on a quest. I am in search of my other half, the twin soul appointed to me from the-" the abyss of ages" will do, I think. No; but really, Philip, you have no idea of the patience and the amount of interest with which I waited and manœuvred to get sight of a girl's face one day at the Royal Academy this year. She was standing before Frith's picture, but five or six deep off it, waiting a chance to cut in. There was a man with her, talking and doing the agreeable; and something in the pose of her head, I think, as she stood listening, reminded me of the figure I saw that night, and its half-pensive attitude at the table. I dare say I stood behind her for twenty minutes, biding my time, every minute adding to my convic

tion that I should see the face I remembered so vividly, when I succeeded in seeing it at all, and beginning to feel a very odd sense of property in the young lady and a strong desire to huff the fellow who was infringing so palpably on my rights; when lo! a sudden swerve of my right-hand neighbour enabled me to move forward, and then I saw a face worth waiting to see, indeed, but not the one I waited for. I am afraid a good deal of the eagerness I had worked myself up into, was in my face when I turned to look at hers; she evidently thought me an awful cad, for her eyes glanced off me with the prettiest look of contempt possible, and she drew a little closer to her companion. There, Philip, you have my story-a story without an ending. The usual drawback to true stories: they manage things better in books.'

CHAPTER II.

The change from the dank autumn evening without, to the light and warmth of the drawing-room at Huntlands, was pleasant enough, as Philip Thornton and I entered it five minutes before the dinner hour. The Villiers people (Mary Villiers was to be transposed into Mrs. Thornton three days from this) were all strange to me, but as Philip's friend and best man' on the approaching interesting occasion, I was receiving a great deal of flattering attention from the genial mère de famille, and being introduced on all sides to the numerous visitors gathered together for the wedding, when Philip, whom I had lost sight of since he had piloted me up to Mrs. Villiers, caught me by the sleeve.

'Here, Guy, come this way a minute. I want to introduce you to Mary.'

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moved-look, this way, Philipwhy! heavens and earth! who is that?'

I stopped short in our progress through the room as the words left my lips, the crowd of faces seemed to melt away and leave only one to my sight; that one I had seen but once before, that I had never forgotten, and should have known anywhere.

'Who is who?' said Philip, impatiently;' don't stand staring, man; come along; Mary is expecting you.'

'I'm very sorry,' said I, with a feeble idea of apologizing; I'm coming this moment, but tell me who that is, first.'

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What do you mean by that ? responded Philip, still more impatient; how am I to know whom you mean; the elderly party in the peacock's feathers, birds of Paradise, or whatever it is?'

'No-no-no! the girl beside the piano, with the brown hair hanging loose.'

'Why, that,' said Philip, staring in his turn, that is Mary; do you know her, Guy? God bless my soul! you don't mean to say '-he stopped short- a deep red glow flushing his fair, handsome face.

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Yes, I did mean it, but I had not the heart to say so when I caught that look.

'Some extraordinary resemblance there certainly is,' I forced myself into saying; but of course it cannot be what I fancied for the moment. I beg your pardon with all my heart, my dear old fellow; pray introduce me at once to Miss Villiers; see, she is looking towards us; she will think it odd."

But after this contretemps, the introduction, my bow, my address was all a failure together. How could it be otherwise, indeed? How would you feel, I should like to know, if introduced into a crowded drawing-room to a young lady with whom you firmly believed yourself to have had a previous interview of the nature of the one I have described? Do you think your bow would be unimpeachable, your smile and manner perfectly easy and pleasant? I know mine was not; and felt morally convinced that I had made anything but the pleasing impression

I would fain have done on the lady who was to be my friend's wife.

How could I help casting furtive and stolen glances at the face which every moment seemed to identify itself more closely with that one indelibly imprinted on my fancy, and being awkwardly caught in the same? How could I fail of giving stupid and inconsequent replies to the dutiful attempts at talk made by Miss Villiers to Philip's friend, while my thoughts were wandering back to All Hallow Eve the solitary room at midnight, the weird repast, and the ghostly visitant?

And then, by way of doing me honour, the bride elect was consigned to my care when we went down to dinner. I glanced down at the little white glove lying on my arm; its touch was scarce heavier than a snow flake. Did it hold a hand of flesh and blood? Was this white, gliding figure at my side the actual substance of the shadow that came to the ghostly supper? Was there something, after all, in charms and spells? if so, thengracious powers! why, then this betrothed of Philip's at my side I was not his, but mine! Or was I destined to marry my friend's

widow?

I shall never forget that dinner nor my spasmodic attempts to talk easily of pleasant trifles and everyday things, while my mind was wildly revolving questions and possibilities like these. Everythingeven that substantial banquet-acquired, so to speak, an unreal and ghostly flavour, just so often as I turned and saw Miss Villiers sitting beside me. She was very silent, too, for her neighbour on the other side was utterly absorbed in his plate, and I couldn't wonder that after a while, she did not seem to find my remarks worth replying to. I remember that I made one endeavour to unite my thoughts and my words, by asking Miss Villiers if she had been at Blythe last October?

'No,' she answered, 'I was at Pau last autumn, with my aunt.'

I am sure I don't know why I asked the question; the answer could scarcely have affected the matter

either one way or another. If Miss Villiers had even been in bodily presence at Blythe I could not suppose that she would have honoured an unknown gentleman at midnight with her unasked presence at supper in his private apartments; and if it was in spiritual guise that she came and sat down to the mystic repast, what did the whereabouts of her body signify? In the next room, at Pau, at Jericho, it was all

one.

To add to my discomfiture, Philip was sitting opposite to us at table, and amid all the confusion of my thoughts, I could not but be sensible that he eyed me now and then with a queer expression on his face and a sombre light in his blue eyes. When the ladies left the table, I could not help watching Miss Villiers move away among them: that graceful, gliding motion was, alas! only another link added to the chain of my remembrance (the ghost had precisely the same walk), though I felt that Philip's eye was, as the song says, 'upon me.'

During the course of the evening, in the drawing-room, he sauntered up to me.

'Hawksley,' said he, with a by no means pleasant smile and manner, 'Mary has been complaining of you; she says you do nothing but stare and ask questions.'

That I was absurdly indignant at this accusation was, I apprehend, owing to the disturbed state of my mind; that is all the excuse I have for answering petulantly

If she does not like me now, it may be on the cards that she will change her mind some day.'

What do you mean?' asked Philip, with that dark-red flush ominously visible on his face once

more.

'Who can resist fate?' I answered, turning away.

'Hawksley, I will know what you imply,' said Philip, seizing my arm vehemently; do you hold to the preposterous idea that it was Mary who came to your room that night? Yes, I see that you dare to do so, in your face!'

My senses were coming back to me by this time. I was not going

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