IV.—WHAT HAPPENED IN THE CHAPEL AT DAGENHAM PARK.
Not till the second night after the earl's body had been brought to Dagenham Park did the countess commence her journey to Dilston.
During the interval the coffin was placed upon a catafalque in the chapel attached to the mansion, and tapers were lighted around it—masses being said for the repose of the soul of the departed by Father Norham.
The head had now been replaced by the body, but the countess would not allow the coffin to be closed, and at night she was left alone in the chapel.
After praying for some time she arose and gazing at her dead lord, invoked him either to appear to her, or give her some sign that he was conscious of her presence.
But the pale features retained their fixed expression.
After awhile, she sat down, and despite all her efforts to resist it, sleep stole over he.
Then she dreamed that the earl stood beside her, looking as he had done in life.
After contemplating her for a few minutes with a look that seemed to fascinate her, he said in low solemn accents:
“Weep no more for me, Anna! weep no more! my suffering is over. But let my last wishes be fulfilled. Till my body is laid where I have desired, my spirit will wander near its earthly tabernacle. Then it will rest.”
“Give me some token that I have really beheld you, my lord,” she said.
“Look at my right hand, and you will be satisfied,” was the reply.
Thereupon the phantom vanished.
Not for some hours could she rouse herself from the heavy slumber into which she had fallen. She then recalled the vision, but thought it must have been a dream.
To convince herself of the truth she went to the coffin, and raised the right hand of the corpse.
On one of the fingers was a ring which she had not observed before. Removing it, she placed it on her own finger.
Reluctant to allude to the mysterious occurrence, she did not even mention it to Father Norham.
Next day she was joined by Dorothy Forster, who desired to accompany her to Dilston.
V.—THE JOURNEY TO DILSTON.
A t the head of the funeral procession rode the faithful Newbiggin.
Then followed the hearse drawn by four horses, with the coachman and two assistants, and lastly came the countess in a carriage likewise drawn by four horses. With her were Dorothy Forster, and Father Norham.
The night was dark on which they set forth, and they tracked many weary miles through country roads, making slow progress, but meeting, with no hindrance, till towards dawn, they halted at a large mansion near Chelmsford belonging to a Roman Catholic gentleman, where they halted and remained during the day—the coffin being removed from the hearse, and placed in a small private chapel, where tapers were lighted, and masses said as at Dagenham.
Here the day was passed.
On the second night, they proceeded to Cambridge—and on the third to a mansion near Saint Ives, in Huntingdonshire.
Thence they moved on to Peterborough.
In this manner they pursued the road towards Newcastle, journeying entirely by night, and halting during the day at some Roman Catholic mansion, where hospitality was afforded them, and where religious rites could be performed.
It was a long, long journey. But the countess did not find it wearisome. Rather she grieved to think it must soon be ended.
She derived great solace from the affectionate companionship of Dorothy Forster.
Seven nights had thus been passed in travel, and they were proceeding on the eighth night from Thirsk towards Darlington, when a horseman rode up to the carriage.
At first his appearance caused alarm, but fear quickly gave way to surprise when they found it was Charles Radclyffe. They knew he had escaped from prison, but supposed he was in France.
He entered into no explanation then, but contented himself with saying that he should accompany them to Dilston, and rode on with Newbiggin.
At Darlington he had a private interview with Dorothy, and told her that he could not leave England without seeing her again, and besought her to accompany him in his flight.
“This is not the moment to urge my suit,” he said; “but I have no option. Will you fly with me? Will you embrace the fortunes of a ruined man?”
“I cannot decide now,” she replied. “You shall have an answer at Dilston.”
From her grave manner Charles had very little hope of a favourable response.
The journey occupied two more nights, but on the third morning, they came in sight of Dilston.
Newbiggin had ridden on to prepare the household, and Charles Radclyffe did not think it safe to accompany the procession, though fully intending to be present at the interment.
VI.—THE INTERMENT.
THOUGH it was known that the earl's estates were forfeited, the confiscation had not yet taken place, and, consequently, the household still remained at Dilston.
Ever since the execution they had been filled with superstitious dread.
On the evening of that terrible day, most remarkable Northern Lights were seen, and the reflection of the crimson sky seemed to turn the water of the brook in the haunted glen to blood.
Next day, a violent tempest occurred, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
Several trees were blown down, and the finest oak in the park was struck—the trunk being completely shattered.
All the household was now assembled to watch the funeral procession as it made its way slowly up the avenue.
Groans and lamentations were heard when the hearse arrived at the gate, and the coffin was taken out, and conveyed to the little chapel.
Not till this had been done did the countess and Dorothy enter the mansion.
Completely prostrated, they strove to prepare themselves for the closing ceremonial that was to take place at midnight.
A doleful place was Dilston during that day. Its inmates were bowed down with grief, and moved about like ghosts.
All needful preparations for the interment were made by Newbiggin.
The vault was opened. The coffin was laid upon a bier not far from the altar; and tapers were lighted around it.
Many of the old servants and dependents, among whom were Nicholas Ribbleton and Nathan Blacklaw, went to the chapel to pray beside the body of their lord.
Not till night did Charles Radclyffe appear at the castle.
He sought out Dorothy and said to her:
“I shall quit Dilston immediately after the interment. Will you go with me?”
“I cannot leave Lady Derwentwater,” she replied.
Nothing more was said.
At midnight the little chapel was filled with the late earl's retainers.
The countess and Dorothy knelt in front of the altar, and Charles Radclyffe and Newbiggin were stationed near the coffin.
The solemn service was performed by Father Norham, and amid the tears of all present the last Lord of Derwentwater was laid with his ancestors.
Tantum valet Amor Regis et Patriæ.