Catherine's Quest Page #4

"Catherine's Quest" is a captivating novella by Joseph Thomas Sheridan Le Fanu, revolving around the titular character, Catherine. The story explores themes of love, identity, and the supernatural as Catherine embarks on a journey marked by mystery and intrigue. Set against a backdrop of rich Gothic elements, the narrative delves into her encounters with enigmatic figures and the struggles she faces in her search for truth and fulfillment. Le Fanu's evocative prose and gripping storytelling create an engaging tale that combines romance with an exploration of the darker facets of human nature.

• Horror

								

evidently making love to the girl. Both were standing by the old
window-seat, but her face was resolutely turned away from him, and when
she at last looked at him it was with an expression of uncontrollable
horror and dislike.

"Again this scene changed as those before it had done; the young man was
gone, and only the light of a grated lantern illumined the room, or
rather made darkness visible. The wicked woman was the only occupant of
the laundry; she was kneeling by the oaken chest, trying to raise the
heavy lid. In her left hand she held a piece of parchment, with large
red seals pendent from it. I knew it to be the old man's will which she
was hiding, thus defrauding the just claimants of their rights.

"Her hands trembled, and her whole appearance denoted guilty
trepidation. At length, however, the lid was raised, but just as she was
about to replace the parchment in the chest, a figure glided silently
from a dark corner of the window-seat and confronted her. It was the
fair girl, pale, resolute, and extending her hand to claim the will.

"After the first guilty start, which caused her to drop the parchment
into the chest, the wicked woman hurriedly tried to close the lid. Her
efforts were frustrated, however, by the girl, who leaned with all her
force upon it, keeping it back, and still held out her hand as before.

"There followed a pause, which seemed to me very long, but which could
in reality have only lasted a minute.

"It was broken by the wicked woman, who, hastily casting a glance behind
her into the gloom of the darkened chamber, then seized the girl by the
arm and dragged her with all her force into the chest. It was but the
work of a moment, for the woman was much the more powerful of the two,
and the poor victim was too much taken by surprise to make much
resistance. I saw one despairing look in her face as her murderess
flashed the lantern before it with a hideous gleam of triumph.

"Then the lid was pressed down upon her, and I saw no more, only I felt
an unutterable terror, and tried in vain to scream.

"This was not all the vision, however, for before I had mastered my
terror the scene was superseded by another.

"This time it was twilight, and the wicked woman and her son were
together. The son seemed to be talking eagerly, and grew more and more
excited, while the mother stood still and erect, with a malicious smile
upon her lips. Presently she moved toward the chest with a fell purpose
in her eyes, unlocked it with a key which hung from her girdle, raised
the lid and disclosed the contents.

"I understood it all now: the son was asking for the girl whom he had
loved, and whom on his return home he missed, and the wicked woman,
enraged at hearing for the first time that he had loved her, was
determined to have her revenge.

"He should see her again.

"On beholding the dread contents of the chest, the man staggered back
horrified; then, doubtless comprehending the case, he turned suddenly
upon the murderess, and threw his arm around her, and there ensued a
struggle terrible to witness.

"Her proud triumphant glance of malice was now succeeded by one of
abject fear, and, as his strength began to gain the mastery, of despair.

"His iron frame heaved for a moment with the violence of his efforts,
the next he had forced her down into the chest upon the mouldering body
of her victim. I saw her eyes light up with the terror of death for one
second, and then her screams were stifled forever beneath the massive
lid.

"The horror of this scene was too much for me; I found voice to scream
at last, and I suppose it was my cry which alarmed you all."

When Catherine ceased speaking there was a profound silence for a
minute, which Mr. Fanshawe was the first to break as he said with a
peculiar intonation in his voice, "It is very strange, very
unaccountable," reëchoing all our thoughts.

Now it happened that Mr. Fleet, our family lawyer, was among our guests
that Christmas-time, and since the discovery of the chest and bones had
taken a great interest in the whole affair. He now questioned and
cross-questioned Catherine, and seemed quite satisfied with the result.

"This would have made a fine case," said he, "if only it had been a
question of the right of succession, for any lawyer to make out; but
unfortunately the events are too long past to have any bearing upon the
present." (There Mr. Fleet was wrong, though we none of us knew it at
the time.)

We now all launched forth into conjectures and opinions, during which
Catherine lay still and weary upon the sofa. I saw this, and thought it
quite time to put an end to the day's adventures by suggesting a
retirement for the night, and we were soon all dispersed to dream of the
mysterious vision and discovery.

       *       *       *       *       *

I think we were none of us sorry when morning dawned without any further
tragedy (by us, I mean the female part of the establishment).

When I came down to breakfast I found Mr. Fleet very active on the
subject of the night before.

"A surgeon ought to be immediately sent for to pronounce an opinion on
the contents of the chest," he said; and Dr. Driscoll presently came,
and after examining the bones minutely, decided that they were, as we
thought, those of two females, who might have been from one to two
hundred years dead.

Mr. Fleet next offered to decipher the will, for such he imagined the
parchment to be, and he and Mr. Fanshawe were closeted together for some
time.

When they at last appeared again, they looked much interested and
excited, and led me away to inform me of the result of their
examination.

They told me that the document had proved to be a will, but that there
was a circumstance connected with it which greatly added to the mystery
of the whole business. This was the mention of the name of L'Estrange. I
was, of course, as much surprised as they, and heard the will read with
great interest.

I cannot remember the technical terms in which it was expressed. Mr.
Fleet read me the translation he had made, for the original was in old
English; but it was to this effect:

It purported to be the will of Reginald, Viscount St. Aubyn, in which he
bequeathed all his inheritance to his lawful son Francis St.
Aubyn--commonly known by the name of Francis l'Estrange--and to his
heirs forever. It was signed Reginald, Viscount St. Aubyn, and the
witnesses were John Murray and Phoebe Brett, who in the old copy had
each affixed their mark.

Mr. Fleet affirmed that it was a perfectly legal document, but this was
not all it contained.

There was an appendix which our lawyer translated as follows:

"In order to avoid all disputes and doubts which might otherwise arise,
I do hereby declare that my lawful wife was Editha, youngest daughter of
Francis l'Estrange, Baronet, and that the register of our marriage may
be seen in the church of St. Andrew, Haslet. By this marriage we had two
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