It appears that De Burgh had employed a man to assassinate his rival also, while he enjoyed his customary evening walk on the banks of the beautiful little river Taw. By an accident which providence often interposes, he discovered himself at the moment he was about to strike, and thus enabled his intended victim to disarm and wound him. While writhing from agony, and in momentary expectation of death, he divulged to Sir Rhoderick that he was employed by De Burgh, who also intended to carry away Agnes that night to a distant castle, where she would be confined in a dungeon until she consented to become his wife.
Collecting a few men, he hastily departed for the convent, near which he met his opponent. A conflict ensued, in which De Burgh was killed, and several of his companions. Ascending the rope ladder which they had secured to the wall which supported the balcony leading to her window, he groped his way into her chamber, for the purpose of effecting her deliverance. In that endeavor the fatal mistake occurred.
Shortly after his removal Agnes became somewhat restored, but only to relapse into a worse state than before. In her delirium she would call upon her lover, in a similar way that any other young lady would be likely to do under such circumstances. Very pathetic, no doubt—but as I do not like tragic scenes, nor tragic descriptions, I must pass over this part of my story, and allow you to fancy what took place. However, on the third day of her illness, while relating portions of her history to a favorite nun, she suddenly stopped in the midst of her remarks and gazed intently toward the foot of her bed. She seemed also to be listening, and then, with the words, “Yes, I’m coming,” she suddenly but quietly expired.
The persons who attended Sir Rhoderick’s funeral declared that when his body was about to be lowered into the grave, in the church, a white shadow was suddenly seen to enter the building, and reflect itself upon the coffin. And the nun affirmed it was precisely at this moment that Agnes died!
This remarkable coincidence excited the wonderment of his friends, and they accordingly laid it before a friar who enjoyed a reputation for great learning. He gave it as a reply, that the white shadow was the spirit of Agnes, and that on each anniversary of her lover’s death she would be required, as a penance, to visit his grave, in a white dress!
Tradition says that this duty has been regularly performed—that on the night of the 7th of November—the day on which he died—she may be seen about midnight, walking in this garb toward his grave, with a rosary in her hand.
A silence of two or three minutes’ duration followed the recital of this legend, when Jane expressed her dissatisfaction with the punishment allotted to Agnes. She declared it was unjust, because Rhoderick’s death was the result of a mistake, and in this opinion she was supported by some others in the room.
I, however, boldly expressed my entire disbelief in ghosts, and in all their species, at the same time complimenting Mrs. Scroggins for the very eloquent manner (as the newspapers say) in which she had narrated her story; for although fearless of spirits, I had great terror of the old lady’s tongue, and was, therefore, careful not to draw down her wrath, by an indiscriminate censure.
Bob, who prided himself upon his enlightened opinions, pompously declared that a belief in such chimeras was the offspring of a weak or ignorant mind.