"What is the matter, my good Audrey?"
"Matter enough on my conscience, if one believes all one hears! Only think, miss, of a ghost, that should have been minding its business at the Baron's own castle, having taken the trouble of following him to this upon some special business it had to municate. However, travelling three or four hundred miles is nothing to a ghost, that can, as I have heard, go at the rate of a thousand miles in a minute, either by land, sea, or water, it matters not to them; but we could have expenced with such visitors, God help us! for we have enow such that go with the castle, and, 'tis said, must do so till the day of judgment."
Roseline, who paid but little attention to Audrey's tales, smiled at this, and gave her a sly look of incredulity, which convinced her of her unbelief. This was a kind of claim upon her to confirm it more strongly.
"Well, you may think as you please, Miss Roseline, the Baron was actilly scared into a fit of arpaplexy at seeing his own wife, all in white, the very moral of herself when alive; and, what is more, she held a knife and a lighted a candle in her hand, and shewed him the wound in her bosom which casioned her death; and she sneered at him, shaked her ghostly head, grinned, and, as he was found upon the floor, 'tis supposed she knocked him down, and then went away in a sky-rocket, or a squib, or some such thing, as belong to those sort of hanimals; for the noise she made at going off was so great and amendous, it broke the drum of Pedro's ear, and left the Baron in a state of sensibility."
"I would advise you, Audrey, (said Roseline,) not to give credit to such improbable tales, and never again to repeat this which you have been telling me."
"'Tis genevin, miss, I assure you. I had it from Pedro's own mouth; so, if you are determined to marry a man haunted by the ghost of another wife, you must abide by the incision. She was certainly sent out of the world unfairly, or why should she not rest in her grave as quietly as other folks?"
Roseline, much as she disliked the Baron as a lover, had too much respect for her father's friend to permit her servant to speak of him so freely, and to lay so dreadful a crime to his charge, which she concluded, like the story of the ghost, was merely the invention of evil-minded people.—She therefore reproved Audrey with a seriousness that alarmed her, and assured her, if she ever again presumed to mention Baron Fitzosbourne in terms so disrespectful and degrading, she would instantly request her father to send her from the castle.
The prating Abigail, finding her young lady really displeased, chose to alter her tone.—To be sure she might have been wrong informed; the world was a wicked place, and some people were sadly entreated in it:—the Baron was a gentleman,—a powerful fine gentleman it was successively hard to be belied;—no one could expence with that:—he was a lord into the bargain, notwithstanding his methodicalness, had some good qualities, and, for certain, was as fine a pice of 'tiquity as any that hung up in the great hall, and looked as antic as the old walls covered with ivory.—Roseline made no answer to this curious eulogium, and Audrey very soon took herself away.
The Baron was not long in determining how to proceed. He became resolute to satisfy his doubts respecting his having a rival. It was neither improbable, nor unlikely, that some of the young officers, stationed in or about the castle, might have designs inimical to his. The lady herself might have favoured their pretences unknown to her father; and, if so, he should run some risk in making her his wife.—The thought was too painful and degrading to be supported, and the critical situation of affairs would not admit of longer deliberation.
The month was on the very eve of terminating, at the expiration of which Sir Philip had promised him the hand of his daughter; yet the young lady was not more conciliating, or less coy and distant in her behaviour to him, than she had been the first day of their meeting. Pedro was summoned, and for some time was closeted with his master. He was promised a liberal reward if he could get into the good graces of the female servants, and make himself master of the young lady's secrets; luckily for our heroine, she had not made a confidant of any one of them.