[From Shadowland in Ellan Vannin, 1880]

CHAPTER IV.

Mr. Cecil Morton's disappearance — The McInnis — Finding of Morton's body — McInnis's death — Mistress Rachel Looney's old coins and long journey — Conclusion.

'WITH the morning light came recollection of my friend Cecil, whom, in the pain and agitation I had been passing through, I had almost forgotten. " Very likely he got back all right last night to the inn, or else will return this morning," I tried to persuade myself, but could not shake off my fears as to his safety ; and, early as it was, I determined to send to the inn to inquire if they had had any intelligence. I accordingly summoned Mrs. Quayle.

' " Sendin' now this early!" she exclaimed. " Why, there'll not be none of them up!"

' " I think I'll walk there myself; it is better than sitting here with my unhappy thoughts."

'"Go yerself! Oh no, no, sir; there's no call for that at all. I'll sen' an' willin'; only I'm thinkin' it's no manner o' use; for Thomas won't get in, it's like."

' " I would really rather go myself ; the air will do me good," I added, as the kind-hearted landlady still demurred.

'"Oh, if that's how it's with ye, mebbe ye'd better take the road yerself ; but ye musn' think I'm not willin' to do that an' more for ye."

' I need not trouble you with all the details of my walk, or arrival at the Hibernia ; suffice it to say that neither Morton nor any message from him had come. So after leaving a few lines to be delivered to my friend immediately on his arrival, I at once prepared to make my way back to Maughold, where so much awaited me to do.

'I traversed the same road, passing Corna Bay. The morning was opening up into a bright one, that seemed to herald a fine day; the sea, as far as eye could reach, looked like a spread of glittering silver in the gleams of early sunrise. I neared ti-e cottage where Cecil had told me the Mclnnises lived : smoke was curling up from the solitary chimney. They had risen, then. I would make inquiries of the man whom Morton had said he would get to row him to Ramsey. How had not this occurred to me before ? He, perhaps, would be able to tell me of my friend-might even have been charged with a message that he had failed to deliver.

'As I was threading my way along the shingly beach, a man camc out of the hut. He carried what seemed a heavily-laden sack upon his shoulders, and made his way with difficulty (half staggering under the load) towards a boat that I saw in the distance, gently rising and falling on the shining water with every movement of the tide. This no doubt would be McInnis.

' " Hie-I say !" 1 shouted; but he either did not or would not hear-the latter I concluded, for he presently quickened his pace, and I saw for the first time that he limped badly. Of whom did he remind me ? My dream ! I now ran rapidly after him — he heard me ; and, turning for one second, and seeing I was pursuing, still further increased his speed. That momentary glimpse of his face showed me the counterpart of the murderer of my vision ! — nightmare ! — call it what you will. Good God! Then had all the horrors I had witnessed when in that mesmeric state been a true warning or prophecy of what had now been fulfilled ? A cold moisture broke out over my head, yet still I ran after the man; and he, perceiving I was swiftly gaining on hire, put the sack down on the beach, and seated himself on it, as though awaiting me.

' "Sure an' are ye wanting me, sorr?",he asked, as I arrived panting at his side.

' "Yes, I am wanting you," I replied angrily; "and why did you not stop when I shouted to you ?"

' " I did not hear, your honour, or av coorse I'd have waited ; I'm rayther hard of hearin'. And what might yer be wanting wid me, sorr ?"

You are named McInnis, are you not?"

' "Yis, sorr ; Pat McInnis at yer honour's sarvice."

' "Well, now, Pat McInnis, I happen to know that my friend Mr. Cecil Morton went out with you yesterday in your boat. He has not returned home, so I come to you for information about him."

'And I looked steadily and sternly at him. He moved his shifty eyes uneasily for a moment under my searching gaze, but soon recovered himself.

'"So yer honour's a frind of the dear young gintleman's ?" he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his grimy-looking hand ; "an' it's proud I am to hear that same, for it's meself didn't know what to do about him at all, at all. He didn't go in the boat yestherday, yer honour, but he came for me, sorr, and I wint wid him to the rocks beyant, and his fut slipt, and his head is hurted-badly, I'm thinking ; for he's not spaking nor moving, and what he does say there isn't no sinse in; and it's meself is just going in the boat to get a docther from town to come to see himindade, the quicker I go the betther. Maybe yer honour would not be above helping me wid this sack to the little craft, for I'se got to fetch it , an' then, sorr, if yer'll go back to that cottage there, you'll find Misthriss McInnis and the young gintleman."

'Then Cecil was alive ! and, bad as the news was as to his state, how relieved I felt ! I gladly helped the man with his load. He rowed briskly away, and presently disappeared round the nearest headland. I turned with a lightened heart to the little thatched cabin, and knocked at the door, but no one answered, nor did I hear any sound to indicate that it was inhabited. What was the meaning of this ? I tried the latch, but found that entrance was barred from within. There was a place for a window, but innocent of frame or glass ; in their stead was a strong wooden shutter. On trying this, I found it also was securely fastened inside ! My fears revived with redoubled force. The man's tale, could it have been concocted on the instant, to send me back, and gain time to effect his escape ? Alas ! I feared so.

' "Mrs. McInnis ' Mrs. McInnis !" I shouted, rattling the latch furiously at the same time.

' No answer ; but as I listened, I could distinguish cautious movements inside.

' " I implore you, tell me," I cried, " whoever you may be, is there a gentleman in this hut, who has been badly hurt by a fall from the rocks ?"

' " No, no, no !" wailed a female voice ; and then a low moan fell upon my ear. " Go away! go away ! for the love of heaven !"

' "I will not go away, so open the door, or I will break it down ;" and I threw myself frantically against it ; the wood cracked in places, I could hear, but did not otherwise yield to my desperate onslaught. " Very well, then, unless you at once admit me, I will make my way to the police station, and have you and your husband arrested, and that without delay."

'Again a faint movement inside, and then I heard the bolts being hesitatingly and slowly withdrawn; the door opened, and there stood the woman of my vision — tall and thin, and clad in long, black, clinging garments, the same dark, crape-like covering enveloping her head. A chill of dread and fear crept over me. For a few seconds I could not speak, but gazed in astonishment at the strange figure.

' "Is there a gentleman concealed in this cottage, badly injured from a fall ?" I tremblingly asked,

' " No, no, no," again wailed the woman ; " go away! go away!"

" Not till I have searched every hole and corner of this place. Stand out of the way, and let me pass ;" for she had tried to bar my entrance.

' I put her to one side, and as I crossed the threshold she glided past me, wringing her hands like the dream-woman, and moved swiftly away in the direction of the beach. I did not wait to detain her, but took a hasty survey of the but ; but, save a tailless red cat that sprang from the hearth on to a large sea-chest near, from whence it growled and spit at me, no other living thing was in the place.

' I had been tricked, deceived, and had actually helped the murderer, as I now believed him to be, to escape — the thief — with what he had stolen from his victim. I was now fully persuaded that all I had witnessed a week before was a marvellous premonition, or " warning." I had for the time been vested with the power of " second- sight;" perhaps the "gift," as some call it, was latent in me. I had suffered myself to be laughed out of all faith in the revelation. For this I should suffer a life-long repentance. Grief, every other thought or feeling, was now in abeyance to the one burning desire for vengeance. He who had done this deed should not escape me. Full of this idea, and dreading that the villain might escape, I made all haste to Ramsey, not even pausing to enter the cottage where my dear grandmother lay. I ran rather than walked — my blood was in a fever; but why should I trouble you with the feelings of that time? I must confine myself to the bare details, and these I shall give as succinctly as possible.

' I went at once to the police-station on arriving in the town. I need hardly say I did not subject myself to ridicule by relating what I have told you. All that could be done was done, and with wonderful expedition, notwithstanding the slowness with which the Manx police force are sometimes charged; but neither the man nor woman McInnis, or any trace of them, could be found.

'The next thing I did was to write to Mr. Haynes, telling him of Morton's mysterious disappearance, my encounter with the McInnises, and stating also that I had every reason to fear there had been foul play on the part of the Irishman. This Mr. Haynes was married to Morton's sister. She was your uncle's favourite of the few remaining to him of his relatives. By the way, is she alive now?'

Mr. Parker paused to inquire. Having informed him that she and her husband had years ago joined the great majority, he proceeded

My next movement was to remove all my belong ings from the inn to Mrs. Quayle's cottage at Maughold, where my dear grandmother had spent so many years of her life.

Mr. Haynes arrived the day after I had followed my much-loved relative to her last resting-place. He had started immediately on receipt of my letter. He was, as, of course, you are aware, a solicitor, a selfpossessed, business-like man, who questioned me very calmly, and without any display of emotion, as to all the particulars of his brother-in-law's disappearance, his general habits, and so on. He considered what I related of the Irishman very damning evidence against him, and, like myself, was inclined to believe the worst. Before driving out to me, he had, he told me ordered posters, offering a reward of £100 for any information respecting Morton. He returned that evening to Ramsey, where he had put up at the __ Hotel.

'Thoroughly weary, I retired early to bed, and soon forgot everything in the sound sleep of exhaustion. Towards six o'clock next morning, I was roused by loud knocking at my door. In answer to a rather drowsy " Come in," Mrs. Quayle called to me in frightened tones

' " Oh, sir ! please get up ; yer wanted."

' I jumped out of bed at once. ' " What is it?" I cried.

' " Loss-a-me, I don't know rightly how to tell ye, an' that's the thruth; but, sir, the poor young gentleman, he's-he's-"

'All this time I had been hastily donning my garments.

'"He's what?" and I opened the door. '"He's found — "

'"He's found, thank God!" ' " Oh, but he's "

' " Where-where ? Speak, can't you ?" for the terrified woman seemed hardly able to utter a word.

" Oh, tell me, Mrs. Quayle ; pray collect yourself. He is lying badly injured somewhere, perhaps."

' I asked this, though from the poor landlady's agitated appearance I anticipated what she found so difficult to say.

' "Injured ! The Lord be good to us ! No, no, sir; but dead he is. Picked up, the corpse was, by Jemmy Kinraid and Charley Fell this mornin'. They were goin' out early to the fishin', an' some boy with them, an' they seen something floating; an' when they come near, they seen it was a body, and they took it into the boat-a terrible sight, they're sayin'. But they foun' out who he was with letters an' writin' in his pockets; an' then they took the poor lad to the Hibernia, an' they wasn' willin' there for to take him in. But there he is, anyways, poor young falla

Och, och ! an' sorry enough I am that the like should happen to him."

'My distress, all the painful after-details, I spare you, and at once turn to the time, five years later, when I again visited the Isle of Man. I pass over the intervening visits, as they were quite uneventful. I was now a married man, and doing very well in the business in which I and my son are now partners; but I had never forgotten my friend Cecil Morton, or ceased to think, with deep pain, of his tragic end, nor had years weakened my faith in my having had revealed by second-sight how this dreadful tragedy had been brought about. I always put up at Mrs. Quayle's in Maughold, and each time inquired whether anything had been heard of the McInnises. They had totally disappeared-had not even tried to reclaim their goods and chattels at the cottage. An elderly woman of the name of Kneale, who, I was informed, was aunt to Mrs. McInnis, went in, and took possession; and as she paid the owner of the little place the trifling rent regularly, she stayed there unopposed. The time of my visit to the island of which I am about to speak was in the beginning of October. The weather was anything but pleasant — gusty and cold, with occasional heavy downpours of rain. The sky kept up a dull, leaden-gray appearance, through which the sun shed only watery beams; whilst the sea came rolling in, in huge, dark, threatening waves, crested here and there with white foam that either broke with sullen roar upon the beach, or dashed with impotent fury against the rocky coast that impeded its progress.

'The third day after my arrival at Mrs. Quayle's a storm of unusual severity set in. The wind howled and shrieked round the little cottage, shaking it to the foundations, as though bent upon its destruction. A threatening gloom hung over the whole landscape, while the loud boom of the sea sounded out in sonorous tone above the raging wind and beating rain. This tempest continued with unabated violence throughout the night, but towards morning began to moderate, and by eight o'clock the sun broke through, and at last dispersed the overhanging clouds. A faint breeze only stirred the air, or shook the glistening raindrops from the laden trees. No trace of the previous night's hurricane remained, save the wet ground and deep pools that overflowed, sending tiny rivulets down hedges and paths in all directions.

"'There was a wreck off Maughold Head las' night, sir," said my landlady as she was removing my breakfast things.

' " Indeed ! No lives lost, I hope ?"

' "I can't say for sure, but one man, I hear, got ashore — jus' by yonther steep rocks by Corna Bay; an' it's a wonder if he got up so far as he was tellin', for he was jus' at the top, when down he fell to the bottom ; an' his back is broke, an' Docther Christian says there isn' no hopes of him. He was took to Misthress Kneale's cottage by them as foun' him., it bein' the neares'. Quayle has gone over now to see how is he. He's talkin'-the man, I mean, that's hurted — of two others as was wis him in the smack. They, it seems, were left on her, but he was swep' off by a heavy sea that washed her decks."

' " I'll go and see if I can do anything for the poor fellow ;" and I at once started for the cottage where the unfortunate man lay.

' Some half dozen people were congregated near the door, talking, who touched their hats civilly to me as I passed into the hut.

'" He's been ramblin' a bit, sir," said Mrs. Kneale, " an' mus' be kep' quite (quiet). He's not to see no one ;" and she tried to bar my further progress towards the bed by placing her broad rotund figure between me and it in an almost threatening attitude that surprised me.

'I was about to retire quietly, when, by a sudden restless movement of his arm, the man threw down a curtain that had hung from the ceiling, and before the bed, and had completely concealed it and him from my view; but now he lay clearly revealed before me — no other than McInnis !

'Mrs. Kneale picked up and tried hastily to replace the fallen drapery, but before she could interfere I pushed past her to the side of the bed.

' " Is that a priest ?" asked the man. " Oh, for the love of Heaven, get me a priest ! Oh ! the saints be good to me ! What did all the goold, and the watch, and the things-what did they bring me?" he moaned; " nothing but ill luck, and misfortin', and mortial fear night and day-night and day! And he niver doubtin' but going wid me, the craythur-and me to strike him down like that ! What divil put yonder bit of leaded stick into my hand? Blissid Virgin, pray for me! Jesus, pray for me ! Oh, that I could remimber the words good Father Hamilton used to tache me! It was the just judgment of God upon me — that I should be kilt — aff av the same rocks as I sint — him ! Oh, will I be ha'nted for iver and always — with him falling — falling — "

'"Come away, sir - ye'd betther," said Mrs. Kneale, taking hold of my arm; "it's ravin' the poor falla is."

"' It is McInnis, and you know it;" and I shook myself free of her. " He is now beyond the reach of human justice, so you need be in no fear at my recognising him, or of anyone else; but is there no priest to be got for the poor creature?" for the dying man was again petitioning imploringly in the midst of his delirium for "a priest-a priest."

' " Pries'," said Mrs. Kneale contemptuously; "what good would the like do him, or anyone else ? I've sent for a neighbour man. He's a local preacher, too, an' he'll put up a bit of a prayer with him. I'm pityin' him enough, poor sowl, though he was a rale bad man to my niece-his wife, she was. She was drove out of her right sinses with him, an' that fond of him, too, for all, that she'd be followin' him about everywhere, for fear he'd be took for smugglin', or some of his bad doin's-watchin' him-watchin' him-still she was; an' she could climb up-up an' down the highest places, and the roughest, like a goat. She took a quare notion to wear a long black dhress, an' she was puttin' a wisp of crape on her head — down to her knees nearly-when she'd be goin' out, instead of a decent bonnet. I'm wondtherin' where'll she be now."

' " A priest ! — a priest!" again moaned the wretched man.

Presently his mood changed; he tried to raise himself in the bed, shrieking in agonized tones: " Take him away ! I'm seeing him always and iver, with the look-he turned on me when he was falling-falling." His voice then sank to a low murmur. " Hide it hide it, wife. Ned Dougherty and me — in the fishing lugger — Gipsy Queen. I rowed out-Ned was drunk.

I waited till night-threw the body overboard. Wake up, Ned — we must get under way — for Whitehaven. Ned mustn't know the goold I've got hid away in the Gipsy Queen — and in the cave off Maughold Head. No one knows that cave but you-and me — Janie !"

' "Could you not find out from him before he becomes quite unconscious what has become of his unfortunate wife?" I said to Mrs. Kneale.

' "I've been thryin', but I'll thry him agen;" and she bent over McInnis, putting her mouth close to his ear, asked slowly and clearly: "Where's Janie ?"

' He turned his dazed eyes apprehensively upon her for a moment.

'" Janie ?-yis, sure-where is she ? Poor Janie !" he muttered, moving his head restlessly backwards and forwards upon the pillow, as if endeavouring to recall something. "Why, Janie, yer not going to die and lave me all alone?" and his voice became wonderfully soft and gentle. He was evidently in imagination living over again the scene of his wife's deaththeir parting. " I've not been what I ought to ye, asthore, but you were the good faithful woman to me, and ivery crass word and ivery blow that I gave you I'm regritting now. Sorrow a wan will ye git from Pat agin if ye'll git betther. What's that yer saying, mavourneen. Spake up ! Ye can't ? Ah, well, don't throuble. I'm clear now in my head. 'Pat, dear' (yis, that's what she's saying), 'my brain was clouded for long, but I've loved you through all, Pat, an' am only thinkin' of what a good man ye wor to me-afore you got into bad company; an' now-now I'm leaving ye, promise me ye'll thry to lead a betther life.' An' is that what yer sayin', asthore. Arrah, but I've that on my sowl that'll niver be forgotten night nor day waking nor slaping ! Go on my knees and pray-me is it? Who'd listen to me? He that died for me and all the wurrold-'ready to pardon and recave the pinitent sinner.' An' sure, mavourneen, how could the likes of me git to Him widout the priest; but I'll go to his riverence and-oh, Janie !-mavourneen !wife !-it's not dead ye are-ay, dead-dead!-poor girl!-buried- far away-in America-where his money-took us-Janie. Send for Father Hamilton -quick! -quick !" again he cried in agonized tones.

'Just then the doctor came in, accompanied — as his dress proclaimed him — by a priest, and I at once withdrew.

'Did I want further confirmation of the truth of the vision ? What fills me with undying regret is, that I had been laughed out of heeding and acting on the warning given me by second-sight.'

And so ended this strange history. I had been much struck with Mr. Parker's clear recollection, not only of all the incidents, but of even the words spoken so many years past, and also that he seemed to fall naturally-when relating dialogue-from his very pure English to the vernacular of the Manx or Irish, as the case might be.

The acquaintanceship I had made in the little wayside inn with father and son ripened into a warm friendship. The old man has now for years been gathered to his rest, and his grand-daughter, the child of ' Masther George,' is now my wife.

Mrs. Rachel Looney — the eccentric landlady — I heard, had not long after undertaken the journey to Adelaide, there to remain with some relatives. She had been enriched, report said, by the discovery of some valuable coins on her property at Ballabarna, in Maughold. These coins, I was also informed, she sent out of the island-lest they might be claimed and sold in England-with the exception of four. These a Mr. Wallace, of Dissington, near Whitehaven, who happened to be in the island about that time, bought from a jeweller in Douglas. Only two of the four could be deciphered — both Anglo-Saxon — one a Sihtric, the other an Ethelred. This was about the year 1834. But many people now living remember the strange landlady of the Hibernia, though the sad tragedy is forgotten that occurred off Maughold Head.