Mary, the maid, was now desired to search all the rooms and offices for Diver, while we sat pensive and starving in the parlour. We were speedily alarmed by a loud shriek, immediately after which Mary rushed tottering into the room, just able to articulate:—
“O, holy Virgin! holy Virgin! yes, gentlemen! the counsellor is dead, sure enough. And I’ll die too, gentlemen! I’ll never recover it!” and she crossed herself twenty times over in the way the priest had taught her.
We all now flocked round, and asked her simultaneously how she knew the counsellor was dead?
Crossing herself again, “I saw his ghost, please your reverence!” cried poor Mary, “and a frightful ghost it was! just out of the river, and not even decent itself. I’m willing to take my affidavy that I saw his ghost, quite indecent, straight forenent me.”
“Where? where?” cried every body, as if with one breath.
“In the double-bedded room next your reverence’s,” stammered the terrified girl.
We waited for no more to satisfy us either that she was mad, or that robbers were in the house: each person seized something by way of a weapon: one took a poker, another a candlestick, a third a knife or fire-shovel, and up stairs we rushed. Only one could go in, conveniently, abreast; and I was among the first who entered. The candles had been forgotten; but the moon was rising, and we certainly saw what, in the opinion of some present, corroborated the statement of Mary. Two or three instantly drew back in horror, and attempted to retreat, but others pressed behind; and lights being at length produced, an exhibition far more ludicrous than terrific presented itself. In a far corner of the room stood, erect and formal, and stark naked (as a ghost should be), John Philpot Curran, one of his majesty’s counsel, learned in the law,—trembling as if in the ague, and scarce able to utter a syllable, through the combination of cold and terror. Three or four paces in his front lay Diver, from Newfoundland, stretching out his immense shaggy carcase, his long paws extended their full length, and his great head lying on them with his nose pointed toward the ghost, as true as the needle to the pole. His hind legs were gathered up like those of a wild beast ready to spring upon his prey. He took an angry notice of the first of us that came near him, growled, and seemed disposed to resent our intrusion;—but the moment his master appeared, his temper changed, he jumped up, wagged his tail, licked the parson’s hand, cast a scowling look at Curran, and then a wistful one at his master,—as much as to say, “I have done my duty, now do you yours:” he looked, indeed, as if he only waited for the word of command, to seize the counsellor by the throttle.
A blanket was now considerately thrown over Curran by one of the company, and he was put to bed with half a dozen more blankets heaped upon him: a tumbler of hot potsheen punch was administered, and a second worked miracles: the natural heat began to circulate, and he was in a little time enabled to rise and tell us a story which no hermit even telling his last beads could avoid laughing at. Related by any one, it would have been good; but as told by Curran, with his powers of description and characteristic humour, was superexcellent;—and we had to thank Diver, the water-dog, for the highest zest of the whole evening.
The fact was, that a little while previous to dinner-time, Curran, who had omitted his customary ablution in the morning, went to our allotted bed-chamber to perform that ceremony; and having stripped, had just begun to apply the sponge, when Diver, strolling about his master’s premises to see if all was right, placed by chance his paw against the door, which not being fastened, it flew open, he entered unceremoniously, and observing what he conceived to be an extraordinary and suspicious figure, concluded it was somebody with no very honest intention, and stopped to reconnoitre. Curran, unaccustomed to so strange a valet, retreated, while Diver advanced, and very significantly showed an intention to seize him by the naked throat; which operation, if performed by Diver, whose tusks were a full inch in length, would no doubt have admitted an inconvenient quantity of atmospheric air into his œsophagus. He therefore crept as close into the corner as he could, and had the equivocal satisfaction of seeing his adversary advance and turn the meditated assault into a complete blockade—stretching himself out, and “maintaining his position” with scarcely the slightest motion, till the counsellor was rescued, and the siege raised.