`` Oh , Jervase Helwyse , '' said the voice -- and as it spoke the figure contorted itself , struggling to hide its blasted face -- `` look not now on the woman you once loved . The curse of Heaven hath stricken me because I would not call man my brother nor woman sister . I wrapped myself in pride as in a mantle and scorned the sympathies of nature , and therefore has Nature made this wretched body the medium of a dreadful sympathy . You are avenged , they are all avenged , Nature is avenged ; for I am Eleanore Rochcliffe . '' The malice of his mental disease , the bitterness lurking at the bottom of his heart , mad as he was , for a blighted and ruined life and love that had been paid with cruel scorn , awoke within the breast of Jervase Helwyse . He shook his finger at the wretched girl , and the chamber echoed , the curtains of the bed were shaken , with his outburst of insane merriment . `` Another triumph for the Lady Eleanore ! '' he cried . `` All have been her victims ; who so worthy to be the final victim as herself ? '' Impelled by some new fantasy of his crazed intellect , he snatched the fatal mantle and rushed from the chamber and the house . That night a procession passed by torchlight through the streets , bearing in the midst the figure of a woman enveloped with a richly-embroidered mantle , while in advance stalked Jervase Helwyse waving the red flag of the pestilence . Arriving opposite the province-house , the mob burned the effigy , and a strong wind came and swept away the ashes . It was said that from that very hour the pestilence abated , as if its sway had some mysterious connection , from the first plague-stroke to the last , with Lady Elcanore 's mantle . A remarkable uncertainty broods over that unhappy lady 's fate . There is a belief , however , that in a certain chamber of this mansion a female form may sometimes be duskily discerned shrinking into the darkest corner and muffling her face within an embroidered mantle . Supposing the legend true , can this be other than the once proud Lady Eleanore ? * * * * * Mine host and the old loyalist and I bestowed no little Warmth of applause upon this narrative , in which we had all been deeply interested ; for the reader can scarcely conceive how unspeakably the effect of such a tale is heightened when , as in the present case , we may repose perfect confidence in the veracity of him who tells it . For my own part , knowing how scrupulous is Mr. Tiffany to settle the foundation of his facts , I could not have believed him one whit the more faithfully had he professed himself an eyewitness of the doings and sufferings of poor Lady Eleanore . Some sceptics , it is true , might demand documentary evidence , or even require him to produce the embroidered mantle , forgetting that -- Heaven be praised ! -- it was consumed to ashes .
But now the old loyalist , whose blood was warmed XXXXX the good cheer , began to talk , in his turn , about the traditions of the Province House , and hinted that he , if it were agreeable , might add a few reminiscences to our legendary stock .
as at because by from of than to with within