Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth Light up the mansion, spread the festive board; Welcome the gay, the noble, and the fair! Through the bright hall in joyous concert poured, Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care! But ask thou not if happiness be there, If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe, Or if the brow the heart’s true livery wear; Lift not the festal mask!—enough to know No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe! —Walter Scott.

The whole front of Black Hall blazed with festive lights; and these lights were all reflected in the dark waters of the lake, and by the glowing foliage of the trees that clothed the mountains, and by the sparkling spray of the cascades that sprung from the rocks on the other side.

The space immediately before the house was crowded with carriages of every description, from the splendid open barouche to the comfortable family coach and the plain gig.

The portico and passages in front of the house were thronged with arriving guests and waiting attendants ready to show them to the dressing-rooms, which were lighted and warmed, and supplied with every convenience for the completion of the toilets.The drawing-room and dancing saloon brilliantly lighted by chandeliers, and beautifully decorated with festoons of dark bright evergreens and wreaths of gorgeous autumn leaves and bouquets of splendid autumn flowers, stood ready with wide open doors to welcome the company.

At the hall door, at the head of the servants, stood Mr. Joseph Joy the house steward, and Miss Tabitha Winterose the housekeeper, both disgusted with the heathenish costumes, distracted with the confusion, disapproving of the whole proceedings, yet determined to do their duty.

Their duty was to see that the men and maids did theirs, in showing the gentlemen and ladies to their dressing-rooms. They had both in turn been astonished, scandalized, and appalled by the grotesque figures that had passed them. But their manner of expressing their sentiments was quite different.

Joseph Joy stared, wondered, and shook his head.

Miss Tabby sighed, whimpered, and moralized.

“I feel as if I had been drinking for a week, and had a lively sort of a nightmare! Here comes another ghoul, in a false face and black gown and hood! Now, how is anybody to tell what it is? Whether it is a tall woman or a short man? Gentleman, or lady, if your honor pleases?” said Joseph Joy, addressing himself to a black domino that just then came up.

“Gentleman,” answered the unknown.

“Pass to the right, then, if you please, sir! Here Alick, show this gentleman in the black shroud to the gentlemen’s dressing-room.”

A trembling darky came forward and took charge of this terrific personage.

“Ah, my goodness! no good will ever come of this!” sighed Miss Tabby.

“No good? Yes there will too!” answered Joseph Joy, who was fond of contradiction. “All these bare-necked, bare-armed, and bare-legged people will get the pleurisy and be laid on the flat of their backs for three months, when they will have the opportunity of meditating on the iniquity of their ways! And won’t that be good?”

“Yes, it will; and I hope it will be sanctified to their souls,” sighed Miss Tabitha.

“And now here comes another bogie! Gentleman, or lady, please?” politely inquired the usher, as a red domino approached.

“Lady,” softly murmured the domino.

“Pass the lady on to your maids, Miss Winterose! And here’s another that certainly belongs to your department too! And another, and another, and a whole dozen of them!” exclaimed Mr. Joy, as a troupe of bayaderes, gipsies, peasants, court ladies, et cÆtera, filed up.

All these Miss Winterose passed on to Delia, with directions to show them to the ladies’ dressing-rooms. And then she turned to Mr. Joy with a deep sigh, whimpering:

“Ah! Joseph, where do all these people expect to die when they go to? I—I mean, to go to when they die?”

“They don’t trouble themselves about that, I reckon,” said contradictory Joe.

“Ah! but it is written that we shall not make to ourselves the likeness of anything that is in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. And here are all these people making of themselves—” Miss Tabby stopped and snivelled, and then stopped again to wipe a tear from the tip of her nose.

“Well, what?” demanded antagonistic Joe. “What are these people making of themselves? Nothing that breaks the first commandment, for surely you don’t mean to say that they make of themselves the image of anything in the heavens above, the earth below, or the waters under the earth, do you?”

“No, Joseph; but I was mistrusting as they had made themselves up into images of something in t’ other place.”“With the Evil One for a pattern, eh? And here he comes, sure enough. Talk of the d—— and you know what happens,” muttered Joe Joy, as a most appalling apparition approached. It was a tall, thin figure, clad in a tight-fitting black suit, that clung close to the skin from the crown of the head to the soles of the feet and the palms of the hands; skull-cap, mask, jacket, sleeves, trousers, shoes and gloves seeming to be knit all of one piece, or else very artistically joined together. Crowning the black brows were two tall white horns; tipping the black fingers were long white talons; terminating the black feet were cloven white hoofs. Crimson glass goggles over the eyes gave the look of burning coals; and by some “devilish cantrap strange,” some trick in chemistry, at least, little jets of flame appeared to issue from the mouth and nostrils of the mask.

“Heaven save us! There’s no mistaking his sex, or identity either,” gasped Mr. Joe, backing himself away from this diabolical figure until he was stopped by the wall, from which he cried out, “Here, Jerry, show the—Enemy—into the gentleman’s dressing-room.”

The shuddering boy, shaking in every limb, shrank away and merely pointed out the door of the dressing-room.

Miss Tabby had merely time to raise her hands and eyes in mute appeal to heaven, before a shoal of new arrivals—“flower girls,” “strawberry girls,” “match girls,” “morning stars,” “evening stars,” “springs,” “summers,” “nuns,” “bacchantes,” etc., claimed her attention; while a troupe of “brigands,” “monks,” “troubadours,” “clowns,” “harlequin,” “kings,” “crusaders,” et cÆtera, demanded the guidance of Mr. Joy.

And after this thicker and faster they came, crowding one group behind another, until the ushers were nearly demented. When drove after drove had divided and passed to the right or the left, that is, to the ladies’ or gentlemen’s dressing-rooms, and the stream began to slacken a little, so that they could distinguish individuals, Mr. Joy in turn received and passed a “puritan preacher,” a “cavalier soldier,” a “Highlander,” a “knight,” a “minstrel,” the “vailed prophet,” a “Switzer,” a “Chinese mandarin,” a “Russian serf,” and black, white, and gray, red, yellow, and blue dominoes, he suddenly exclaimed:

“Good Lord deliver us! What’s that?”

Miss Tabby, who, to her infinite disgust, had been receiving and passing any number of “fairies,” “fisher girls,” “soubrettes,” “sultanas,” et cÆtera, turned around, and in a quavering voice, inquired:

“What’s what?”

“Why, that!” shuddered Joe, pointing to a ghastly figure that was standing quite still, a few paces from where they stood, trembling.

“It’s a skeleton! Oh, my goodness! how did ever it get here?”

“Yes, it is a skeleton! Oh, this is too horrible!” gasped Joe, shrinking up against the wall. And his female companion clung close to him.

Meanwhile the “skeleton” stalked towards them.

We, reader, have seen the figure before. But so distinctly was the skeleton of the human body painted in white upon that tight-fitting black suit, that the illusion was perfect; and the wonder was not great that the two poor ignorant servants trembled and gasped, and shrank back.

“Why, if you were not afraid of the Devil, why should you shrink from Death?” demanded the stranger:

“Grinning horribly a ghastly smile.”

“I—was not—afraid; only it gives one such a turn!” replied Joe, with chattering teeth.

“Then direct me to a dressing-room,” ordered the stranger.

“But—are you—a gentleman’s skeleton, or a lady’s?” gasped Joe.“I am neither. I am Death,” curtly replied the stranger.

“Lord save us!” ejaculated Miss Tabby.

“Are you going to direct me to a dressing-room?”

“Yes, sure, as soon as I know what sort of a one you want. Are you a gentleman’s death, or a lady’s?” faltered Joe, who could by no means command his nerves.

“I am a lady’s death!” replied the stranger, in a tone so grim that Miss Tabby ejaculated:

“Heaven have mercy on us!”

Joe was about to direct the stranger to the ladies’ dressing-rooms, when his attention was suddenly diverted by the arrival of a crowd of “knights,” “Indians,” “Welsh bards,” “grisettes,” “Greek slaves,” et cÆtera, who demanded immediate service. The usher divided them according to their sexes, and then noticed that the ghastly figure of “Death” joined the gentlemen’s party and accompanied them to their dressing-room.