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diff --git a/10150-h/10150-h.htm b/10150-h/10150-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7364332 --- /dev/null +++ b/10150-h/10150-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5641 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dracula's Guest, by Bram Stoker</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10150 ***</div> + +<h1>Dracula’s Guest</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Bram Stoker</h2> + +<h3>First published 1914</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h4>To MY SON</h4> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref01">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">Dracula’s Guest</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">The Judge’s House</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">The Squaw</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">The Secret of the Growing Gold</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">The Gipsy Prophecy</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">The Coming of Abel Behenna</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">The Burial of the Rats</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">A Dream of Red Hands</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">Crooken Sands</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="pref01"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<p> +A few months before the lamented death of my husband—I might say even +as the shadow of death was over him—he planned three series of short +stories for publication, and the present volume is one of them. To his +original list of stories in this book, I have added an hitherto +unpublished episode from <i>Dracula</i>. It was originally excised owing to +the length of the book, and may prove of interest to the many readers of +what is considered my husband’s most remarkable work. The other stories +have already been published in English and American periodicals. Had my +husband lived longer, he might have seen fit to revise this work, which +is mainly from the earlier years of his strenuous life. But, as fate has +entrusted to me the issuing of it, I consider it fitting and proper to +let it go forth practically as it was left by him.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 3em;">FLORENCE BRAM STOKER</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>Dracula’s Guest</h2> + +<p>When we started for our drive the sun was shining brightly on Munich, +and the air was full of the joyousness of early summer. Just as we were +about to depart, Herr Delbrück (the maître d’hôtel of the Quatre +Saisons, where I was staying) came down, bareheaded, to the carriage +and, after wishing me a pleasant drive, said to the coachman, still +holding his hand on the handle of the carriage door:</p> + +<p>“Remember you are back by nightfall. The sky looks bright but there is a +shiver in the north wind that says there may be a sudden storm. But I am +sure you will not be late.” Here he smiled, and added, “for you know +what night it is.”</p> + +<p>Johann answered with an emphatic, “Ja, mein Herr,” and, touching his +hat, drove off quickly. When we had cleared the town, I said, after +signalling to him to stop:</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Johann, what is tonight?”</p> + +<p>He crossed himself, as he answered laconically: “Walpurgis nacht.” Then +he took out his watch, a great, old-fashioned German silver thing as big +as a turnip, and looked at it, with his eyebrows gathered together and a +little impatient shrug of his shoulders. I realised that this was his +way of respectfully protesting against the unnecessary delay, and sank +back in the carriage, merely motioning him to proceed. He started off +rapidly, as if to make up for lost time. Every now and then the horses +seemed to throw up their heads and sniffed the air suspiciously. On such +occasions I often looked round in alarm. The road was pretty bleak, for +we were traversing a sort of high, wind-swept plateau. As we drove, I +saw a road that looked but little used, and which seemed to dip through +a little, winding valley. It looked so inviting that, even at the risk +of offending him, I called Johann to stop—and when he had pulled up, I +told him I would like to drive down that road. He made all sorts of +excuses, and frequently crossed himself as he spoke. This somewhat +piqued my curiosity, so I asked him various questions. He answered +fencingly, and repeatedly looked at his watch in protest. Finally I +said:</p> + +<p>“Well, Johann, I want to go down this road. I shall not ask you to come +unless you like; but tell me why you do not like to go, that is all I +ask.” For answer he seemed to throw himself off the box, so quickly did +he reach the ground. Then he stretched out his hands appealingly to me, +and implored me not to go. There was just enough of English mixed with +the German for me to understand the drift of his talk. He seemed always +just about to tell me something—the very idea of which evidently +frightened him; but each time he pulled himself up, saying, as he +crossed himself: “Walpurgis-Nacht!”</p> + +<p>I tried to argue with him, but it was difficult to argue with a man when +I did not know his language. The advantage certainly rested with him, +for although he began to speak in English, of a very crude and broken +kind, he always got excited and broke into his native tongue—and every +time he did so, he looked at his watch. Then the horses became restless +and sniffed the air. At this he grew very pale, and, looking around in a +frightened way, he suddenly jumped forward, took them by the bridles and +led them on some twenty feet. I followed, and asked why he had done +this. For answer he crossed himself, pointed to the spot we had left and +drew his carriage in the direction of the other road, indicating a +cross, and said, first in German, then in English: “Buried him—him what +killed themselves.”</p> + +<p>I remembered the old custom of burying suicides at cross-roads: “Ah! I +see, a suicide. How interesting!” But for the life of me I could not +make out why the horses were frightened.</p> + +<p>Whilst we were talking, we heard a sort of sound between a yelp and a +bark. It was far away; but the horses got very restless, and it took +Johann all his time to quiet them. He was pale, and said, “It sounds +like a wolf—but yet there are no wolves here now.”</p> + +<p>“No?” I said, questioning him; “isn’t it long since the wolves were so +near the city?”</p> + +<p>“Long, long,” he answered, “in the spring and summer; but with the snow +the wolves have been here not so long.”</p> + +<p>Whilst he was petting the horses and trying to quiet them, dark clouds +drifted rapidly across the sky. The sunshine passed away, and a breath +of cold wind seemed to drift past us. It was only a breath, however, and +more in the nature of a warning than a fact, for the sun came out +brightly again. Johann looked under his lifted hand at the horizon and +said:</p> + +<p>“The storm of snow, he comes before long time.” Then he looked at his +watch again, and, straightway holding his reins firmly—for the horses +were still pawing the ground restlessly and shaking their heads—he +climbed to his box as though the time had come for proceeding on our +journey.</p> + +<p>I felt a little obstinate and did not at once get into the carriage.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” I said, “about this place where the road leads,” and I +pointed down.</p> + +<p>Again he crossed himself and mumbled a prayer, before he answered, “It +is unholy.”</p> + +<p>“What is unholy?” I enquired.</p> + +<p>“The village.”</p> + +<p>“Then there is a village?”</p> + +<p>“No, no. No one lives there hundreds of years.” My curiosity was piqued, +“But you said there was a village.”</p> + +<p>“There was.”</p> + +<p>“Where is it now?”</p> + +<p>Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English, so mixed +up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said, but roughly I +gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been +buried in their graves; and sounds were heard under the clay, and when +the graves were opened, men and women were found rosy with life, and +their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives (aye, +and their souls!—and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled +away to other places, where the living lived, and the dead were dead and +not—not something. He was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As +he proceeded with his narration, he grew more and more excited. It +seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended in a +perfect paroxysm of fear—white-faced, perspiring, trembling and looking +round him, as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest +itself there in the bright sunshine on the open plain. Finally, in an +agony of desperation, he cried:</p> + +<p>“Walpurgis nacht!” and pointed to the carriage for me to get in. All my +English blood rose at this, and, standing back, I said:</p> + +<p>“You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid. Go home; I shall return alone; +the walk will do me good.” The carriage door was open. I took from the +seat my oak walking-stick—which I always carry on my holiday +excursions—and closed the door, pointing back to Munich, and said, “Go +home, Johann—Walpurgis-nacht doesn’t concern Englishmen.”</p> + +<p>The horses were now more restive than ever, and Johann was trying to +hold them in, while excitedly imploring me not to do anything so +foolish. I pitied the poor fellow, he was deeply in earnest; but all the +same I could not help laughing. His English was quite gone now. In his +anxiety he had forgotten that his only means of making me understand was +to talk my language, so he jabbered away in his native German. It began +to be a little tedious. After giving the direction, “Home!” I turned to +go down the cross-road into the valley.</p> + +<p>With a despairing gesture, Johann turned his horses towards Munich. I +leaned on my stick and looked after him. He went slowly along the road +for a while: then there came over the crest of the hill a man tall and +thin. I could see so much in the distance. When he drew near the horses, +they began to jump and kick about, then to scream with terror. Johann +could not hold them in; they bolted down the road, running away madly. I +watched them out of sight, then looked for the stranger, but I found +that he, too, was gone.</p> + +<p>With a light heart I turned down the side road through the deepening +valley to which Johann had objected. There was not the slightest reason, +that I could see, for his objection; and I daresay I tramped for a +couple of hours without thinking of time or distance, and certainly +without seeing a person or a house. So far as the place was concerned, +it was desolation itself. But I did not notice this particularly till, +on turning a bend in the road, I came upon a scattered fringe of wood; +then I recognised that I had been impressed unconsciously by the +desolation of the region through which I had passed.</p> + +<p>I sat down to rest myself, and began to look around. It struck me that +it was considerably colder than it had been at the commencement of my +walk—a sort of sighing sound seemed to be around me, with, now and +then, high overhead, a sort of muffled roar. Looking upwards I noticed +that great thick clouds were drifting rapidly across the sky from North +to South at a great height. There were signs of coming storm in some +lofty stratum of the air. I was a little chilly, and, thinking that it +was the sitting still after the exercise of walking, I resumed my +journey.</p> + +<p>The ground I passed over was now much more picturesque. There were no +striking objects that the eye might single out; but in all there was a +charm of beauty. I took little heed of time and it was only when the +deepening twilight forced itself upon me that I began to think of how I +should find my way home. The brightness of the day had gone. The air was +cold, and the drifting of clouds high overhead was more marked. They +were accompanied by a sort of far-away rushing sound, through which +seemed to come at intervals that mysterious cry which the driver had +said came from a wolf. For a while I hesitated. I had said I would see +the deserted village, so on I went, and presently came on a wide stretch +of open country, shut in by hills all around. Their sides were covered +with trees which spread down to the plain, dotting, in clumps, the +gentler slopes and hollows which showed here and there. I followed with +my eye the winding of the road, and saw that it curved close to one of +the densest of these clumps and was lost behind it.</p> + +<p>As I looked there came a cold shiver in the air, and the snow began to +fall. I thought of the miles and miles of bleak country I had passed, +and then hurried on to seek the shelter of the wood in front. Darker and +darker grew the sky, and faster and heavier fell the snow, till the +earth before and around me was a glistening white carpet the further +edge of which was lost in misty vagueness. The road was here but crude, +and when on the level its boundaries were not so marked, as when it +passed through the cuttings; and in a little while I found that I must +have strayed from it, for I missed underfoot the hard surface, and my +feet sank deeper in the grass and moss. Then the wind grew stronger and +blew with ever increasing force, till I was fain to run before it. The +air became icy-cold, and in spite of my exercise I began to suffer. The +snow was now falling so thickly and whirling around me in such rapid +eddies that I could hardly keep my eyes open. Every now and then the +heavens were torn asunder by vivid lightning, and in the flashes I could +see ahead of me a great mass of trees, chiefly yew and cypress all +heavily coated with snow.</p> + +<p>I was soon amongst the shelter of the trees, and there, in comparative +silence, I could hear the rush of the wind high overhead. Presently the +blackness of the storm had become merged in the darkness of the night. +By-and-by the storm seemed to be passing away: it now only came in +fierce puffs or blasts. At such moments the weird sound of the wolf +appeared to be echoed by many similar sounds around me.</p> + +<p>Now and again, through the black mass of drifting cloud, came a +straggling ray of moonlight, which lit up the expanse, and showed me +that I was at the edge of a dense mass of cypress and yew trees. As the +snow had ceased to fall, I walked out from the shelter and began to +investigate more closely. It appeared to me that, amongst so many old +foundations as I had passed, there might be still standing a house in +which, though in ruins, I could find some sort of shelter for a while. +As I skirted the edge of the copse, I found that a low wall encircled +it, and following this I presently found an opening. Here the cypresses +formed an alley leading up to a square mass of some kind of building. +Just as I caught sight of this, however, the drifting clouds obscured +the moon, and I passed up the path in darkness. The wind must have grown +colder, for I felt myself shiver as I walked; but there was hope of +shelter, and I groped my way blindly on.</p> + +<p>I stopped, for there was a sudden stillness. The storm had passed; and, +perhaps in sympathy with nature’s silence, my heart seemed to cease to +beat. But this was only momentarily; for suddenly the moonlight broke +through the clouds, showing me that I was in a graveyard, and that the +square object before me was a great massive tomb of marble, as white as +the snow that lay on and all around it. With the moonlight there came a +fierce sigh of the storm, which appeared to resume its course with a +long, low howl, as of many dogs or wolves. I was awed and shocked, and +felt the cold perceptibly grow upon me till it seemed to grip me by the +heart. Then while the flood of moonlight still fell on the marble tomb, +the storm gave further evidence of renewing, as though it was returning +on its track. Impelled by some sort of fascination, I approached the +sepulchre to see what it was, and why such a thing stood alone in such a +place. I walked around it, and read, over the Doric door, in German:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;">COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ<br /> +IN STYRIA<br /> +SOUGHT AND FOUND DEATH<br /> +1801</p> + +<p>On the top of the tomb, seemingly driven through the solid marble—for +the structure was composed of a few vast blocks of stone—was a great +iron spike or stake. On going to the back I saw, graven in great Russian +letters:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;">“The dead travel fast.”</p> + +<p>There was something so weird and uncanny about the whole thing that it +gave me a turn and made me feel quite faint. I began to wish, for the +first time, that I had taken Johann’s advice. Here a thought struck me, +which came under almost mysterious circumstances and with a terrible +shock. This was Walpurgis Night!</p> + +<p>Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people, +the devil was abroad—when the graves were opened and the dead came +forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held +revel. This very place the driver had specially shunned. This was the +depopulated village of centuries ago. This was where the suicide lay; +and this was the place where I was alone—unmanned, shivering with cold +in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again upon me! It took +all my philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all my courage, +not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright.</p> + +<p>And now a perfect tornado burst upon me. The ground shook as though +thousands of horses thundered across it; and this time the storm bore on +its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with such +violence that they might have come from the thongs of Balearic +slingers—hailstones that beat down leaf and branch and made the shelter +of the cypresses of no more avail than though their stems were +standing-corn. At the first I had rushed to the nearest tree; but I was +soon fain to leave it and seek the only spot that seemed to afford +refuge, the deep Doric doorway of the marble tomb. There, crouching +against the massive bronze door, I gained a certain amount of protection +from the beating of the hailstones, for now they only drove against me +as they ricocheted from the ground and the side of the marble.</p> + +<p>As I leaned against the door, it moved slightly and opened inwards. The +shelter of even a tomb was welcome in that pitiless tempest, and I was +about to enter it when there came a flash of forked-lightning that lit +up the whole expanse of the heavens. In the instant, as I am a living +man, I saw, as my eyes were turned into the darkness of the tomb, a +beautiful woman, with rounded cheeks and red lips, seemingly sleeping on +a bier. As the thunder broke overhead, I was grasped as by the hand of a +giant and hurled out into the storm. The whole thing was so sudden that, +before I could realise the shock, moral as well as physical, I found the +hailstones beating me down. At the same time I had a strange, dominating +feeling that I was not alone. I looked towards the tomb. Just then there +came another blinding flash, which seemed to strike the iron stake that +surmounted the tomb and to pour through to the earth, blasting and +crumbling the marble, as in a burst of flame. The dead woman rose for a +moment of agony, while she was lapped in the flame, and her bitter +scream of pain was drowned in the thundercrash. The last thing I heard +was this mingling of dreadful sound, as again I was seized in the +giant-grasp and dragged away, while the hailstones beat on me, and the +air around seemed reverberant with the howling of wolves. The last sight +that I remembered was a vague, white, moving mass, as if all the graves +around me had sent out the phantoms of their sheeted-dead, and that they +were closing in on me through the white cloudiness of the driving hail.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Gradually there came a sort of vague beginning of consciousness; then a +sense of weariness that was dreadful. For a time I remembered nothing; +but slowly my senses returned. My feet seemed positively racked with +pain, yet I could not move them. They seemed to be numbed. There was an +icy feeling at the back of my neck and all down my spine, and my ears, +like my feet, were dead, yet in torment; but there was in my breast a +sense of warmth which was, by comparison, delicious. It was as a +nightmare—a physical nightmare, if one may use such an expression; for +some heavy weight on my chest made it difficult for me to breathe.</p> + +<p>This period of semi-lethargy seemed to remain a long time, and as it +faded away I must have slept or swooned. Then came a sort of loathing, +like the first stage of sea-sickness, and a wild desire to be free from +something—I knew not what. A vast stillness enveloped me, as though all +the world were asleep or dead—only broken by the low panting as of some +animal close to me. I felt a warm rasping at my throat, then came a +consciousness of the awful truth, which chilled me to the heart and sent +the blood surging up through my brain. Some great animal was lying on me +and now licking my throat. I feared to stir, for some instinct of +prudence bade me lie still; but the brute seemed to realise that there +was now some change in me, for it raised its head. Through my eyelashes +I saw above me the two great flaming eyes of a gigantic wolf. Its sharp +white teeth gleamed in the gaping red mouth, and I could feel its hot +breath fierce and acrid upon me.</p> + +<p>For another spell of time I remembered no more. Then I became conscious +of a low growl, followed by a yelp, renewed again and again. Then, +seemingly very far away, I heard a “Holloa! holloa!” as of many voices +calling in unison. Cautiously I raised my head and looked in the +direction whence the sound came; but the cemetery blocked my view. The +wolf still continued to yelp in a strange way, and a red glare began to +move round the grove of cypresses, as though following the sound. As the +voices drew closer, the wolf yelped faster and louder. I feared to make +either sound or motion. Nearer came the red glow, over the white pall +which stretched into the darkness around me. Then all at once from +beyond the trees there came at a trot a troop of horsemen bearing +torches. The wolf rose from my breast and made for the cemetery. I saw +one of the horsemen (soldiers by their caps and their long military +cloaks) raise his carbine and take aim. A companion knocked up his arm, +and I heard the ball whizz over my head. He had evidently taken my body +for that of the wolf. Another sighted the animal as it slunk away, and a +shot followed. Then, at a gallop, the troop rode forward—some towards +me, others following the wolf as it disappeared amongst the snow-clad +cypresses.</p> + +<p>As they drew nearer I tried to move, but was powerless, although I could +see and hear all that went on around me. Two or three of the soldiers +jumped from their horses and knelt beside me. One of them raised my +head, and placed his hand over my heart.</p> + +<p>“Good news, comrades!” he cried. “His heart still beats!”</p> + +<p>Then some brandy was poured down my throat; it put vigour into me, and I +was able to open my eyes fully and look around. Lights and shadows were +moving among the trees, and I heard men call to one another. They drew +together, uttering frightened exclamations; and the lights flashed as +the others came pouring out of the cemetery pell-mell, like men +possessed. When the further ones came close to us, those who were around +me asked them eagerly:</p> + +<p>“Well, have you found him?”</p> + +<p>The reply rang out hurriedly:</p> + +<p>“No! no! Come away quick—quick! This is no place to stay, and on this +of all nights!”</p> + +<p>“What was it?” was the question, asked in all manner of keys. The answer +came variously and all indefinitely as though the men were moved by some +common impulse to speak, yet were restrained by some common fear from +giving their thoughts.</p> + +<p>“It—it—indeed!” gibbered one, whose wits had plainly given out for the +moment.</p> + +<p>“A wolf—and yet not a wolf!” another put in shudderingly.</p> + +<p>“No use trying for him without the sacred bullet,” a third remarked in a +more ordinary manner.</p> + +<p>“Serve us right for coming out on this night! Truly we have earned our +thousand marks!” were the ejaculations of a fourth.</p> + +<p>“There was blood on the broken marble,” another said after a pause—“the +lightning never brought that there. And for him—is he safe? Look at his +throat! See, comrades, the wolf has been lying on him and keeping his +blood warm.”</p> + +<p>The officer looked at my throat and replied:</p> + +<p>“He is all right; the skin is not pierced. What does it all mean? We +should never have found him but for the yelping of the wolf.”</p> + +<p>“What became of it?” asked the man who was holding up my head, and who +seemed the least panic-stricken of the party, for his hands were steady +and without tremor. On his sleeve was the chevron of a petty officer.</p> + +<p>“It went to its home,” answered the man, whose long face was pallid, and +who actually shook with terror as he glanced around him fearfully. +“There are graves enough there in which it may lie. Come, comrades—come +quickly! Let us leave this cursed spot.”</p> + +<p>The officer raised me to a sitting posture, as he uttered a word of +command; then several men placed me upon a horse. He sprang to the +saddle behind me, took me in his arms, gave the word to advance; and, +turning our faces away from the cypresses, we rode away in swift, +military order.</p> + +<p>As yet my tongue refused its office, and I was perforce silent. I must +have fallen asleep; for the next thing I remembered was finding myself +standing up, supported by a soldier on each side of me. It was almost +broad daylight, and to the north a red streak of sunlight was reflected, +like a path of blood, over the waste of snow. The officer was telling +the men to say nothing of what they had seen, except that they found an +English stranger, guarded by a large dog.</p> + +<p>“Dog! that was no dog,” cut in the man who had exhibited such fear. “I +think I know a wolf when I see one.”</p> + +<p>The young officer answered calmly: “I said a dog.”</p> + +<p>“Dog!” reiterated the other ironically. It was evident that his courage +was rising with the sun; and, pointing to me, he said, “Look at his +throat. Is that the work of a dog, master?”</p> + +<p>Instinctively I raised my hand to my throat, and as I touched it I cried +out in pain. The men crowded round to look, some stooping down from +their saddles; and again there came the calm voice of the young officer:</p> + +<p>“A dog, as I said. If aught else were said we should only be laughed +at.”</p> + +<p>I was then mounted behind a trooper, and we rode on into the suburbs of +Munich. Here we came across a stray carriage, into which I was lifted, +and it was driven off to the Quatre Saisons—the young officer +accompanying me, whilst a trooper followed with his horse, and the +others rode off to their barracks.</p> + +<p>When we arrived, Herr Delbrück rushed so quickly down the steps to meet +me, that it was apparent he had been watching within. Taking me by both +hands he solicitously led me in. The officer saluted me and was turning +to withdraw, when I recognised his purpose, and insisted that he should +come to my rooms. Over a glass of wine I warmly thanked him and his +brave comrades for saving me. He replied simply that he was more than +glad, and that Herr Delbrück had at the first taken steps to make all +the searching party pleased; at which ambiguous utterance the maître +d’hôtel smiled, while the officer pleaded duty and withdrew.</p> + +<p>“But Herr Delbrück,” I enquired, “how and why was it that the soldiers +searched for me?”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, as if in depreciation of his own deed, as he +replied:</p> + +<p>“I was so fortunate as to obtain leave from the commander of the +regiment in which I served, to ask for volunteers.”</p> + +<p>“But how did you know I was lost?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The driver came hither with the remains of his carriage, which had been +upset when the horses ran away.”</p> + +<p>“But surely you would not send a search-party of soldiers merely on this +account?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” he answered; “but even before the coachman arrived, I had this +telegram from the Boyar whose guest you are,” and he took from his +pocket a telegram which he handed to me, and I read:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p style="text-align: right; padding-right: 2.5em;"><i>Bistritz</i>.</p> +<p>Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught +happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure +his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often +dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect +harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune.—<i>Dracula</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p>As I held the telegram in my hand, the room seemed to whirl around me; +and, if the attentive maître d’hôtel had not caught me, I think I should +have fallen. There was something so strange in all this, something so +weird and impossible to imagine, that there grew on me a sense of my +being in some way the sport of opposite forces—the mere vague idea of +which seemed in a way to paralyse me. I was certainly under some form of +mysterious protection. From a distant country had come, in the very nick +of time, a message that took me out of the danger of the snow-sleep and +the jaws of the wolf. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>The Judge’s House</h2> + +<p>When the time for his examination drew near Malcolm Malcolmson made up +his mind to go somewhere to read by himself. He feared the attractions +of the seaside, and also he feared completely rural isolation, for of +old he knew it charms, and so he determined to find some unpretentious +little town where there would be nothing to distract him. He refrained +from asking suggestions from any of his friends, for he argued that each +would recommend some place of which he had knowledge, and where he had +already acquaintances. As Malcolmson wished to avoid friends he had no +wish to encumber himself with the attention of friends’ friends, and so +he determined to look out for a place for himself. He packed a +portmanteau with some clothes and all the books he required, and then +took ticket for the first name on the local time-table which he did not +know.</p> + +<p>When at the end of three hours’ journey he alighted at Benchurch, he +felt satisfied that he had so far obliterated his tracks as to be sure +of having a peaceful opportunity of pursuing his studies. He went +straight to the one inn which the sleepy little place contained, and put +up for the night. Benchurch was a market town, and once in three weeks +was crowded to excess, but for the remainder of the twenty-one days it +was as attractive as a desert. Malcolmson looked around the day after +his arrival to try to find quarters more isolated than even so quiet an +inn as “The Good Traveller” afforded. There was only one place which +took his fancy, and it certainly satisfied his wildest ideas regarding +quiet; in fact, quiet was not the proper word to apply to it—desolation +was the only term conveying any suitable idea of its isolation. It was +an old rambling, heavy-built house of the Jacobean style, with heavy +gables and windows, unusually small, and set higher than was customary +in such houses, and was surrounded with a high brick wall massively +built. Indeed, on examination, it looked more like a fortified house +than an ordinary dwelling. But all these things pleased Malcolmson. +“Here,” he thought, “is the very spot I have been looking for, and if I +can get opportunity of using it I shall be happy.” His joy was increased +when he realised beyond doubt that it was not at present inhabited.</p> + +<p>From the post-office he got the name of the agent, who was rarely +surprised at the application to rent a part of the old house. Mr. +Carnford, the local lawyer and agent, was a genial old gentleman, and +frankly confessed his delight at anyone being willing to live in the +house.</p> + +<p>“To tell you the truth,” said he, “I should be only too happy, on behalf +of the owners, to let anyone have the house rent free for a term of +years if only to accustom the people here to see it inhabited. It has +been so long empty that some kind of absurd prejudice has grown up about +it, and this can be best put down by its occupation—if only,” he added +with a sly glance at Malcolmson, “by a scholar like yourself, who wants +its quiet for a time.”</p> + +<p>Malcolmson thought it needless to ask the agent about the “absurd +prejudice”; he knew he would get more information, if he should require +it, on that subject from other quarters. He paid his three months’ rent, +got a receipt, and the name of an old woman who would probably undertake +to “do” for him, and came away with the keys in his pocket. He then went +to the landlady of the inn, who was a cheerful and most kindly person, +and asked her advice as to such stores and provisions as he would be +likely to require. She threw up her hands in amazement when he told her +where he was going to settle himself.</p> + +<p>“Not in the Judge’s House!” she said, and grew pale as she spoke. He +explained the locality of the house, saying that he did not know its +name. When he had finished she answered:</p> + +<p>“Aye, sure enough—sure enough the very place! It is the Judge’s House +sure enough.” He asked her to tell him about the place, why so called, +and what there was against it. She told him that it was so called +locally because it had been many years before—how long she could not +say, as she was herself from another part of the country, but she +thought it must have been a hundred years or more—the abode of a judge +who was held in great terror on account of his harsh sentences and his +hostility to prisoners at Assizes. As to what there was against the +house itself she could not tell. She had often asked, but no one could +inform her; but there was a general feeling that there was <i>something</i>, +and for her own part she would not take all the money in Drinkwater’s +Bank and stay in the house an hour by herself. Then she apologised to +Malcolmson for her disturbing talk.</p> + +<p>“It is too bad of me, sir, and you—and a young gentlemen, too—if you +will pardon me saying it, going to live there all alone. If you were my +boy—and you’ll excuse me for saying it—you wouldn’t sleep there a +night, not if I had to go there myself and pull the big alarm bell +that’s on the roof!” The good creature was so manifestly in earnest, and +was so kindly in her intentions, that Malcolmson, although amused, was +touched. He told her kindly how much he appreciated her interest in him, +and added:</p> + +<p>“But, my dear Mrs. Witham, indeed you need not be concerned about me! A +man who is reading for the Mathematical Tripos has too much to think of +to be disturbed by any of these mysterious ‘somethings’, and his work is +of too exact and prosaic a kind to allow of his having any corner in his +mind for mysteries of any kind. Harmonical Progression, Permutations and +Combinations, and Elliptic Functions have sufficient mysteries for me!” +Mrs. Witham kindly undertook to see after his commissions, and he went +himself to look for the old woman who had been recommended to him. When +he returned to the Judge’s House with her, after an interval of a couple +of hours, he found Mrs. Witham herself waiting with several men and boys +carrying parcels, and an upholsterer’s man with a bed in a car, for she +said, though tables and chairs might be all very well, a bed that hadn’t +been aired for mayhap fifty years was not proper for young bones to lie +on. She was evidently curious to see the inside of the house; and though +manifestly so afraid of the “somethings” that at the slightest sound she +clutched on to Malcolmson, whom she never left for a moment, went over +the whole place.</p> + +<p>After his examination of the house, Malcolmson decided to take up his +abode in the great dining-room, which was big enough to serve for all +his requirements; and Mrs. Witham, with the aid of the charwoman, Mrs. +Dempster, proceeded to arrange matters. When the hampers were brought in +and unpacked, Malcolmson saw that with much kind forethought she had +sent from her own kitchen sufficient provisions to last for a few days. +Before going she expressed all sorts of kind wishes; and at the door +turned and said:</p> + +<p>“And perhaps, sir, as the room is big and draughty it might be well to +have one of those big screens put round your bed at night—though, truth +to tell, I would die myself if I were to be so shut in with all kinds +of—of ‘things’, that put their heads round the sides, or over the top, +and look on me!” The image which she had called up was too much for her +nerves, and she fled incontinently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dempster sniffed in a superior manner as the landlady disappeared, +and remarked that for her own part she wasn’t afraid of all the bogies +in the kingdom.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what it is, sir,” she said; “bogies is all kinds and +sorts of things—except bogies! Rats and mice, and beetles; and creaky +doors, and loose slates, and broken panes, and stiff drawer handles, +that stay out when you pull them and then fall down in the middle of the +night. Look at the wainscot of the room! It is old—hundreds of years +old! Do you think there’s no rats and beetles there! And do you imagine, +sir, that you won’t see none of them? Rats is bogies, I tell you, and +bogies is rats; and don’t you get to think anything else!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Dempster,” said Malcolmson gravely, making her a polite bow, “you +know more than a Senior Wrangler! And let me say, that, as a mark of +esteem for your indubitable soundness of head and heart, I shall, when I +go, give you possession of this house, and let you stay here by yourself +for the last two months of my tenancy, for four weeks will serve my +purpose.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you kindly, sir!” she answered, “but I couldn’t sleep away from +home a night. I am in Greenhow’s Charity, and if I slept a night away +from my rooms I should lose all I have got to live on. The rules is very +strict; and there’s too many watching for a vacancy for me to run any +risks in the matter. Only for that, sir, I’d gladly come here and attend +on you altogether during your stay.”</p> + +<p>“My good woman,” said Malcolmson hastily, “I have come here on purpose +to obtain solitude; and believe me that I am grateful to the late +Greenhow for having so organised his admirable charity—whatever it +is—that I am perforce denied the opportunity of suffering from such a +form of temptation! Saint Anthony himself could not be more rigid on the +point!”</p> + +<p>The old woman laughed harshly. “Ah, you young gentlemen,” she said, “you +don’t fear for naught; and belike you’ll get all the solitude you want +here.” She set to work with her cleaning; and by nightfall, when +Malcolmson returned from his walk—he always had one of his books to +study as he walked—he found the room swept and tidied, a fire burning +in the old hearth, the lamp lit, and the table spread for supper with +Mrs. Witham’s excellent fare. “This is comfort, indeed,” he said, as he +rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>When he had finished his supper, and lifted the tray to the other end of +the great oak dining-table, he got out his books again, put fresh wood +on the fire, trimmed his lamp, and set himself down to a spell of real +hard work. He went on without pause till about eleven o’clock, when he +knocked off for a bit to fix his fire and lamp, and to make himself a +cup of tea. He had always been a tea-drinker, and during his college +life had sat late at work and had taken tea late. The rest was a great +luxury to him, and he enjoyed it with a sense of delicious, voluptuous +ease. The renewed fire leaped and sparkled, and threw quaint shadows +through the great old room; and as he sipped his hot tea he revelled in +the sense of isolation from his kind. Then it was that he began to +notice for the first time what a noise the rats were making.</p> + +<p>“Surely,” he thought, “they cannot have been at it all the time I was +reading. Had they been, I must have noticed it!” Presently, when the +noise increased, he satisfied himself that it was really new. It was +evident that at first the rats had been frightened at the presence of a +stranger, and the light of fire and lamp; but that as the time went on +they had grown bolder and were now disporting themselves as was their +wont.</p> + +<p>How busy they were! and hark to the strange noises! Up and down behind +the old wainscot, over the ceiling and under the floor they raced, and +gnawed, and scratched! Malcolmson smiled to himself as he recalled to +mind the saying of Mrs. Dempster, “Bogies is rats, and rats is bogies!” +The tea began to have its effect of intellectual and nervous stimulus, +he saw with joy another long spell of work to be done before the night +was past, and in the sense of security which it gave him, he allowed +himself the luxury of a good look round the room. He took his lamp in +one hand, and went all around, wondering that so quaint and beautiful an +old house had been so long neglected. The carving of the oak on the +panels of the wainscot was fine, and on and round the doors and windows +it was beautiful and of rare merit. There were some old pictures on the +walls, but they were coated so thick with dust and dirt that he could +not distinguish any detail of them, though he held his lamp as high as +he could over his head. Here and there as he went round he saw some +crack or hole blocked for a moment by the face of a rat with its bright +eyes glittering in the light, but in an instant it was gone, and a +squeak and a scamper followed. The thing that most struck him, however, +was the rope of the great alarm bell on the roof, which hung down in a +corner of the room on the right-hand side of the fireplace. He pulled up +close to the hearth a great high-backed carved oak chair, and sat down +to his last cup of tea. When this was done he made up the fire, and went +back to his work, sitting at the corner of the table, having the fire to +his left. For a little while the rats disturbed him somewhat with their +perpetual scampering, but he got accustomed to the noise as one does to +the ticking of a clock or to the roar of moving water; and he became so +immersed in his work that everything in the world, except the problem +which he was trying to solve, passed away from him.</p> + +<p>He suddenly looked up, his problem was still unsolved, and there was in +the air that sense of the hour before the dawn, which is so dread to +doubtful life. The noise of the rats had ceased. Indeed it seemed to him +that it must have ceased but lately and that it was the sudden cessation +which had disturbed him. The fire had fallen low, but still it threw out +a deep red glow. As he looked he started in spite of his <i>sang froid</i>.</p> + +<p>There on the great high-backed carved oak chair by the right side of the +fireplace sat an enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with baleful +eyes. He made a motion to it as though to hunt it away, but it did not +stir. Then he made the motion of throwing something. Still it did not +stir, but showed its great white teeth angrily, and its cruel eyes shone +in the lamplight with an added vindictiveness.</p> + +<p>Malcolmson felt amazed, and seizing the poker from the hearth ran at it +to kill it. Before, however, he could strike it, the rat, with a squeak +that sounded like the concentration of hate, jumped upon the floor, and, +running up the rope of the alarm bell, disappeared in the darkness +beyond the range of the green-shaded lamp. Instantly, strange to say, +the noisy scampering of the rats in the wainscot began again.</p> + +<p>By this time Malcolmson’s mind was quite off the problem; and as a +shrill cock-crow outside told him of the approach of morning, he went to +bed and to sleep.</p> + +<p>He slept so sound that he was not even waked by Mrs. Dempster coming in +to make up his room. It was only when she had tidied up the place and +got his breakfast ready and tapped on the screen which closed in his bed +that he woke. He was a little tired still after his night’s hard work, +but a strong cup of tea soon freshened him up and, taking his book, he +went out for his morning walk, bringing with him a few sandwiches lest +he should not care to return till dinner time. He found a quiet walk +between high elms some way outside the town, and here he spent the +greater part of the day studying his Laplace. On his return he looked in +to see Mrs. Witham and to thank her for her kindness. When she saw him +coming through the diamond-paned bay window of her sanctum she came out +to meet him and asked him in. She looked at him searchingly and shook +her head as she said:</p> + +<p>“You must not overdo it, sir. You are paler this morning than you should +be. Too late hours and too hard work on the brain isn’t good for any +man! But tell me, sir, how did you pass the night? Well, I hope? But my +heart! sir, I was glad when Mrs. Dempster told me this morning that you +were all right and sleeping sound when she went in.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I was all right,” he answered smiling, “the ‘somethings’ didn’t +worry me, as yet. Only the rats; and they had a circus, I tell you, all +over the place. There was one wicked looking old devil that sat up on my +own chair by the fire, and wouldn’t go till I took the poker to him, and +then he ran up the rope of the alarm bell and got to somewhere up the +wall or the ceiling—I couldn’t see where, it was so dark.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy on us,” said Mrs. Witham, “an old devil, and sitting on a chair +by the fireside! Take care, sir! take care! There’s many a true word +spoken in jest.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean? Pon my word I don’t understand.”</p> + +<p>“An old devil! The old devil, perhaps. There! sir, you needn’t laugh,” +for Malcolmson had broken into a hearty peal. “You young folks thinks it +easy to laugh at things that makes older ones shudder. Never mind, sir! +never mind! Please God, you’ll laugh all the time. It’s what I wish you +myself!” and the good lady beamed all over in sympathy with his +enjoyment, her fears gone for a moment.</p> + +<p>“Oh, forgive me!” said Malcolmson presently. “Don’t think me rude; but +the idea was too much for me—that the old devil himself was on the +chair last night!” And at the thought he laughed again. Then he went home +to dinner.</p> + +<p> +This evening the scampering of the rats began earlier; indeed it had been going +on before his arrival, and only ceased whilst his presence by its freshness +disturbed them. After dinner he sat by the fire for a while and had a smoke; +and then, having cleared his table, began to work as before. Tonight the rats +disturbed him more than they had done on the previous night. How they scampered +up and down and under and over! How they squeaked, and scratched, and gnawed! +How they, getting bolder by degrees, came to the mouths of their holes and to +the chinks and cracks and crannies in the wainscoting till their eyes shone +like tiny lamps as the firelight rose and fell. But to him, now doubtless +accustomed to them, their eyes were not wicked; only their playfulness touched +him. Sometimes the boldest of them made sallies out on the floor or along the +mouldings of the wainscot. Now and again as they disturbed him Malcolmson made +a sound to frighten them, smiting the table with his hand or giving a fierce +“Hsh, hsh,” so that they fled straightway to their holes. +</p> + +<p>And so the early part of the night wore on; and despite the noise +Malcolmson got more and more immersed in his work.</p> + +<p>All at once he stopped, as on the previous night, being overcome by a +sudden sense of silence. There was not the faintest sound of gnaw, or +scratch, or squeak. The silence was as of the grave. He remembered the +odd occurrence of the previous night, and instinctively he looked at the +chair standing close by the fireside. And then a very odd sensation +thrilled through him.</p> + +<p>There, on the great old high-backed carved oak chair beside the +fireplace sat the same enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with +baleful eyes.</p> + +<p>Instinctively he took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of +logarithms, and flung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat did +not stir, so again the poker performance of the previous night was +repeated; and again the rat, being closely pursued, fled up the rope of +the alarm bell. Strangely too, the departure of this rat was instantly +followed by the renewal of the noise made by the general rat community. +On this occasion, as on the previous one, Malcolmson could not see at +what part of the room the rat disappeared, for the green shade of his +lamp left the upper part of the room in darkness, and the fire had +burned low.</p> + +<p>On looking at his watch he found it was close on midnight; and, not +sorry for the <i>divertissement</i>, he made up his fire and made himself his +nightly pot of tea. He had got through a good spell of work, and thought +himself entitled to a cigarette; and so he sat on the great oak chair +before the fire and enjoyed it. Whilst smoking he began to think that he +would like to know where the rat disappeared to, for he had certain +ideas for the morrow not entirely disconnected with a rat-trap. +Accordingly he lit another lamp and placed it so that it would shine +well into the right-hand corner of the wall by the fireplace. Then he +got all the books he had with him, and placed them handy to throw at the +vermin. Finally he lifted the rope of the alarm bell and placed the end +of it on the table, fixing the extreme end under the lamp. As he handled +it he could not help noticing how pliable it was, especially for so +strong a rope, and one not in use. “You could hang a man with it,” he +thought to himself. When his preparations were made he looked around, +and said complacently:</p> + +<p>“There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this +time!” He began his work again, and though as before somewhat disturbed +at first by the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in his propositions +and problems.</p> + +<p>Again he was called to his immediate surroundings suddenly. This time it +might not have been the sudden silence only which took his attention; +there was a slight movement of the rope, and the lamp moved. Without +stirring, he looked to see if his pile of books was within range, and +then cast his eye along the rope. As he looked he saw the great rat drop +from the rope on the oak arm-chair and sit there glaring at him. He +raised a book in his right hand, and taking careful aim, flung it at the +rat. The latter, with a quick movement, sprang aside and dodged the +missile. He then took another book, and a third, and flung them one +after another at the rat, but each time unsuccessfully. At last, as he +stood with a book poised in his hand to throw, the rat squeaked and +seemed afraid. This made Malcolmson more than ever eager to strike, and +the book flew and struck the rat a resounding blow. It gave a terrified +squeak, and turning on his pursuer a look of terrible malevolence, ran +up the chair-back and made a great jump to the rope of the alarm bell +and ran up it like lightning. The lamp rocked under the sudden strain, +but it was a heavy one and did not topple over. Malcolmson kept his eyes +on the rat, and saw it by the light of the second lamp leap to a +moulding of the wainscot and disappear through a hole in one of the +great pictures which hung on the wall, obscured and invisible through +its coating of dirt and dust.</p> + +<p>“I shall look up my friend’s habitation in the morning,” said the +student, as he went over to collect his books. “The third picture from +the fireplace; I shall not forget.” He picked up the books one by one, +commenting on them as he lifted them. “<i>Conic Sections</i> he does not +mind, nor <i>Cycloidal Oscillations</i>, nor the <i>Principia</i>, nor +<i>Quaternions</i>, nor <i>Thermodynamics</i>. Now for the book that fetched him!” +Malcolmson took it up and looked at it. As he did so he started, and a +sudden pallor overspread his face. He looked round uneasily and shivered +slightly, as he murmured to himself:</p> + +<p>“The Bible my mother gave me! What an odd coincidence.” He sat down to +work again, and the rats in the wainscot renewed their gambols. They did +not disturb him, however; somehow their presence gave him a sense of +companionship. But he could not attend to his work, and after striving +to master the subject on which he was engaged gave it up in despair, and +went to bed as the first streak of dawn stole in through the eastern +window.</p> + +<p>He slept heavily but uneasily, and dreamed much; and when Mrs. Dempster +woke him late in the morning he seemed ill at ease, and for a few +minutes did not seem to realise exactly where he was. His first request +rather surprised the servant.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Dempster, when I am out to-day I wish you would get the steps and +dust or wash those pictures—specially that one the third from the +fireplace—I want to see what they are.”</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon Malcolmson worked at his books in the shaded walk, +and the cheerfulness of the previous day came back to him as the day +wore on, and he found that his reading was progressing well. He had +worked out to a satisfactory conclusion all the problems which had as +yet baffled him, and it was in a state of jubilation that he paid a +visit to Mrs. Witham at “The Good Traveller”. He found a stranger in the +cosy sitting-room with the landlady, who was introduced to him as Dr. +Thornhill. She was not quite at ease, and this, combined with the +doctor’s plunging at once into a series of questions, made Malcolmson +come to the conclusion that his presence was not an accident, so without +preliminary he said:</p> + +<p>“Dr. Thornhill, I shall with pleasure answer you any question you may +choose to ask me if you will answer me one question first.”</p> + +<p>The doctor seemed surprised, but he smiled and answered at once, “Done! +What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Did Mrs. Witham ask you to come here and see me and advise me?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Thornhill for a moment was taken aback, and Mrs. Witham got fiery +red and turned away; but the doctor was a frank and ready man, and he +answered at once and openly.</p> + +<p>“She did: but she didn’t intend you to know it. I suppose it was my +clumsy haste that made you suspect. She told me that she did not like +the idea of your being in that house all by yourself, and that she +thought you took too much strong tea. In fact, she wants me to advise +you if possible to give up the tea and the very late hours. I was a keen +student in my time, so I suppose I may take the liberty of a college +man, and without offence, advise you not quite as a stranger.”</p> + +<p>Malcolmson with a bright smile held out his hand. “Shake! as they say in +America,” he said. “I must thank you for your kindness and Mrs. Witham +too, and your kindness deserves a return on my part. I promise to take +no more strong tea—no tea at all till you let me—and I shall go to bed +tonight at one o’clock at latest. Will that do?”</p> + +<p>“Capital,” said the doctor. “Now tell us all that you noticed in the old +house,” and so Malcolmson then and there told in minute detail all that +had happened in the last two nights. He was interrupted every now and +then by some exclamation from Mrs. Witham, till finally when he told of +the episode of the Bible the landlady’s pent-up emotions found vent in a +shriek; and it was not till a stiff glass of brandy and water had been +administered that she grew composed again. Dr. Thornhill listened with a +face of growing gravity, and when the narrative was complete and Mrs. +Witham had been restored he asked:</p> + +<p>“The rat always went up the rope of the alarm bell?”</p> + +<p>“Always.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you know,” said the Doctor after a pause, “what the rope is?”</p> + +<p>“No!”</p> + +<p>“It is,” said the Doctor slowly, “the very rope which the hangman used +for all the victims of the Judge’s judicial rancour!” Here he was +interrupted by another scream from Mrs. Witham, and steps had to be +taken for her recovery. Malcolmson having looked at his watch, and found +that it was close to his dinner hour, had gone home before her complete +recovery.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Witham was herself again she almost assailed the Doctor with +angry questions as to what he meant by putting such horrible ideas into +the poor young man’s mind. “He has quite enough there already to upset +him,” she added. Dr. Thornhill replied:</p> + +<p>“My dear madam, I had a distinct purpose in it! I wanted to draw his +attention to the bell rope, and to fix it there. It may be that he is in +a highly overwrought state, and has been studying too much, although I +am bound to say that he seems as sound and healthy a young man, mentally +and bodily, as ever I saw—but then the rats—and that suggestion of the +devil.” The doctor shook his head and went on. “I would have offered to +go and stay the first night with him but that I felt sure it would have +been a cause of offence. He may get in the night some strange fright or +hallucination; and if he does I want him to pull that rope. All alone as +he is it will give us warning, and we may reach him in time to be of +service. I shall be sitting up pretty late tonight and shall keep my +ears open. Do not be alarmed if Benchurch gets a surprise before +morning.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Doctor, what do you mean? What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean this; that possibly—nay, more probably—we shall hear the great +alarm bell from the Judge’s House tonight,” and the Doctor made about as +effective an exit as could be thought of.</p> + +<p>When Malcolmson arrived home he found that it was a little after his +usual time, and Mrs. Dempster had gone away—the rules of Greenhow’s +Charity were not to be neglected. He was glad to see that the place was +bright and tidy with a cheerful fire and a well-trimmed lamp. The +evening was colder than might have been expected in April, and a heavy +wind was blowing with such rapidly-increasing strength that there was +every promise of a storm during the night. For a few minutes after his +entrance the noise of the rats ceased; but so soon as they became +accustomed to his presence they began again. He was glad to hear them, +for he felt once more the feeling of companionship in their noise, and +his mind ran back to the strange fact that they only ceased to manifest +themselves when that other—the great rat with the baleful eyes—came +upon the scene. The reading-lamp only was lit and its green shade kept +the ceiling and the upper part of the room in darkness, so that the +cheerful light from the hearth spreading over the floor and shining on +the white cloth laid over the end of the table was warm and cheery. +Malcolmson sat down to his dinner with a good appetite and a buoyant +spirit. After his dinner and a cigarette he sat steadily down to work, +determined not to let anything disturb him, for he remembered his +promise to the doctor, and made up his mind to make the best of the time +at his disposal.</p> + +<p>For an hour or so he worked all right, and then his thoughts began to +wander from his books. The actual circumstances around him, the calls on +his physical attention, and his nervous susceptibility were not to be +denied. By this time the wind had become a gale, and the gale a storm. +The old house, solid though it was, seemed to shake to its foundations, +and the storm roared and raged through its many chimneys and its queer +old gables, producing strange, unearthly sounds in the empty rooms and +corridors. Even the great alarm bell on the roof must have felt the +force of the wind, for the rope rose and fell slightly, as though the +bell were moved a little from time to time and the limber rope fell on +the oak floor with a hard and hollow sound.</p> + +<p>As Malcolmson listened to it he bethought himself of the doctor’s words, +“It is the rope which the hangman used for the victims of the Judge’s +judicial rancour,” and he went over to the corner of the fireplace and +took it in his hand to look at it. There seemed a sort of deadly +interest in it, and as he stood there he lost himself for a moment in +speculation as to who these victims were, and the grim wish of the Judge +to have such a ghastly relic ever under his eyes. As he stood there the +swaying of the bell on the roof still lifted the rope now and again; but +presently there came a new sensation—a sort of tremor in the rope, as +though something was moving along it.</p> + +<p>Looking up instinctively Malcolmson saw the great rat coming slowly down +towards him, glaring at him steadily. He dropped the rope and started +back with a muttered curse, and the rat turning ran up the rope again +and disappeared, and at the same instant Malcolmson became conscious +that the noise of the rats, which had ceased for a while, began again.</p> + +<p>All this set him thinking, and it occurred to him that he had not +investigated the lair of the rat or looked at the pictures, as he had +intended. He lit the other lamp without the shade, and, holding it up +went and stood opposite the third picture from the fireplace on the +right-hand side where he had seen the rat disappear on the previous +night.</p> + +<p>At the first glance he started back so suddenly that he almost dropped +the lamp, and a deadly pallor overspread his face. His knees shook, and +heavy drops of sweat came on his forehead, and he trembled like an +aspen. But he was young and plucky, and pulled himself together, and +after the pause of a few seconds stepped forward again, raised the lamp, +and examined the picture which had been dusted and washed, and now stood +out clearly.</p> + +<p>It was of a judge dressed in his robes of scarlet and ermine. His face +was strong and merciless, evil, crafty, and vindictive, with a sensual +mouth, hooked nose of ruddy colour, and shaped like the beak of a bird +of prey. The rest of the face was of a cadaverous colour. The eyes were +of peculiar brilliance and with a terribly malignant expression. As he +looked at them, Malcolmson grew cold, for he saw there the very +counterpart of the eyes of the great rat. The lamp almost fell from his +hand, he saw the rat with its baleful eyes peering out through the hole +in the corner of the picture, and noted the sudden cessation of the +noise of the other rats. However, he pulled himself together, and went +on with his examination of the picture.</p> + +<p>The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carved oak chair, on the +right-hand side of a great stone fireplace where, in the corner, a rope +hung down from the ceiling, its end lying coiled on the floor. With a +feeling of something like horror, Malcolmson recognised the scene of the +room as it stood, and gazed around him in an awestruck manner as though +he expected to find some strange presence behind him. Then he looked +over to the corner of the fireplace—and with a loud cry he let the lamp +fall from his hand.</p> + +<p>There, in the Judge’s arm-chair, with the rope hanging behind, sat the +rat with the Judge’s baleful eyes, now intensified and with a fiendish +leer. Save for the howling of the storm without there was silence.</p> + +<p>The fallen lamp recalled Malcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was of +metal, and so the oil was not spilt. However, the practical need of +attending to it settled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he had +turned it out, he wiped his brow and thought for a moment.</p> + +<p>“This will not do,” he said to himself. “If I go on like this I shall +become a crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor I would not +take tea. Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have been getting +into a queer state. Funny I did not notice it. I never felt better in my +life. However, it is all right now, and I shall not be such a fool +again.”</p> + +<p>Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and +resolutely sat down to his work.</p> + +<p>It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book, disturbed by the +sudden stillness. Without, the wind howled and roared louder than ever, +and the rain drove in sheets against the windows, beating like hail on +the glass; but within there was no sound whatever save the echo of the +wind as it roared in the great chimney, and now and then a hiss as a few +raindrops found their way down the chimney in a lull of the storm. The +fire had fallen low and had ceased to flame, though it threw out a red +glow. Malcolmson listened attentively, and presently heard a thin, +squeaking noise, very faint. It came from the corner of the room where +the rope hung down, and he thought it was the creaking of the rope on +the floor as the swaying of the bell raised and lowered it. Looking up, +however, he saw in the dim light the great rat clinging to the rope and +gnawing it. The rope was already nearly gnawed through—he could see the +lighter colour where the strands were laid bare. As he looked the job +was completed, and the severed end of the rope fell clattering on the +oaken floor, whilst for an instant the great rat remained like a knob or +tassel at the end of the rope, which now began to sway to and fro. +Malcolmson felt for a moment another pang of terror as he thought that +now the possibility of calling the outer world to his assistance was cut +off, but an intense anger took its place, and seizing the book he was +reading he hurled it at the rat. The blow was well aimed, but before the +missile could reach him the rat dropped off and struck the floor with a +soft thud. Malcolmson instantly rushed over towards him, but it darted +away and disappeared in the darkness of the shadows of the room. +Malcolmson felt that his work was over for the night, and determined +then and there to vary the monotony of the proceedings by a hunt for the +rat, and took off the green shade of the lamp so as to insure a wider +spreading light. As he did so the gloom of the upper part of the room +was relieved, and in the new flood of light, great by comparison with +the previous darkness, the pictures on the wall stood out boldly. From +where he stood, Malcolmson saw right opposite to him the third picture +on the wall from the right of the fireplace. He rubbed his eyes in +surprise, and then a great fear began to come upon him.</p> + +<p>In the centre of the picture was a great irregular patch of brown +canvas, as fresh as when it was stretched on the frame. The background +was as before, with chair and chimney-corner and rope, but the figure of +the Judge had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Malcolmson, almost in a chill of horror, turned slowly round, and then +he began to shake and tremble like a man in a palsy. His strength seemed +to have left him, and he was incapable of action or movement, hardly +even of thought. He could only see and hear.</p> + +<p>There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair sat the Judge in his +robes of scarlet and ermine, with his baleful eyes glaring vindictively, +and a smile of triumph on the resolute, cruel mouth, as he lifted with +his hands a <i>black cap</i>. Malcolmson felt as if the blood was running +from his heart, as one does in moments of prolonged suspense. There was +a singing in his ears. Without, he could hear the roar and howl of the +tempest, and through it, swept on the storm, came the striking of +midnight by the great chimes in the market place. He stood for a space +of time that seemed to him endless still as a statue, and with +wide-open, horror-struck eyes, breathless. As the clock struck, so the +smile of triumph on the Judge’s face intensified, and at the last stroke +of midnight he placed the black cap on his head.</p> + +<p>Slowly and deliberately the Judge rose from his chair and picked up the +piece of the rope of the alarm bell which lay on the floor, drew it +through his hands as if he enjoyed its touch, and then deliberately +began to knot one end of it, fashioning it into a noose. This he +tightened and tested with his foot, pulling hard at it till he was +satisfied and then making a running noose of it, which he held in his +hand. Then he began to move along the table on the opposite side to +Malcolmson keeping his eyes on him until he had passed him, when with a +quick movement he stood in front of the door. Malcolmson then began to +feel that he was trapped, and tried to think of what he should do. There +was some fascination in the Judge’s eyes, which he never took off him, +and he had, perforce, to look. He saw the Judge approach—still keeping +between him and the door—and raise the noose and throw it towards him +as if to entangle him. With a great effort he made a quick movement to +one side, and saw the rope fall beside him, and heard it strike the +oaken floor. Again the Judge raised the noose and tried to ensnare him, +ever keeping his baleful eyes fixed on him, and each time by a mighty +effort the student just managed to evade it. So this went on for many +times, the Judge seeming never discouraged nor discomposed at failure, +but playing as a cat does with a mouse. At last in despair, which had +reached its climax, Malcolmson cast a quick glance round him. The lamp +seemed to have blazed up, and there was a fairly good light in the room. +At the many rat-holes and in the chinks and crannies of the wainscot he +saw the rats’ eyes; and this aspect, that was purely physical, gave him +a gleam of comfort. He looked around and saw that the rope of the great +alarm bell was laden with rats. Every inch of it was covered with them, +and more and more were pouring through the small circular hole in the +ceiling whence it emerged, so that with their weight the bell was +beginning to sway.</p> + +<p>Hark! it had swayed till the clapper had touched the bell. The sound was +but a tiny one, but the bell was only beginning to sway, and it would +increase.</p> + +<p>At the sound the Judge, who had been keeping his eyes fixed on +Malcolmson, looked up, and a scowl of diabolical anger overspread his +face. His eyes fairly glowed like hot coals, and he stamped his foot +with a sound that seemed to make the house shake. A dreadful peal of +thunder broke overhead as he raised the rope again, whilst the rats kept +running up and down the rope as though working against time. This time, +instead of throwing it, he drew close to his victim, and held open the +noose as he approached. As he came closer there seemed something +paralysing in his very presence, and Malcolmson stood rigid as a corpse. +He felt the Judge’s icy fingers touch his throat as he adjusted the +rope. The noose tightened—tightened. Then the Judge, taking the rigid +form of the student in his arms, carried him over and placed him +standing in the oak chair, and stepping up beside him, put his hand up +and caught the end of the swaying rope of the alarm bell. As he raised +his hand the rats fled squeaking, and disappeared through the hole in +the ceiling. Taking the end of the noose which was round Malcolmson’s +neck he tied it to the hanging-bell rope, and then descending pulled +away the chair.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>When the alarm bell of the Judge’s House began to sound a crowd soon +assembled. Lights and torches of various kinds appeared, and soon a +silent crowd was hurrying to the spot. They knocked loudly at the door, +but there was no reply. Then they burst in the door, and poured into the +great dining-room, the doctor at the head.</p> + +<p>There at the end of the rope of the great alarm bell hung the body of +the student, and on the face of the Judge in the picture was a malignant +smile. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>The Squaw</h2> + +<p> +Nurnberg at the time was not so much exploited as it has been since +then. Irving had not been playing <i>Faust</i>, and the very name of the old +town was hardly known to the great bulk of the travelling public. My +wife and I being in the second week of our honeymoon, naturally wanted +someone else to join our party, so that when the cheery stranger, Elias +P. Hutcheson, hailing from Isthmian City, Bleeding Gulch, Maple Tree +County, Neb. turned up at the station at Frankfort, and casually +remarked that he was going on to see the most all-fired old Methuselah +of a town in Yurrup, and that he guessed that so much travelling alone +was enough to send an intelligent, active citizen into the melancholy +ward of a daft house, we took the pretty broad hint and suggested that +we should join forces. We found, on comparing notes afterwards, that we +had each intended to speak with some diffidence or hesitation so as not +to appear too eager, such not being a good compliment to the success of +our married life; but the effect was entirely marred by our both +beginning to speak at the same instant—stopping simultaneously and then +going on together again. Anyhow, no matter how, it was done; and Elias +P. Hutcheson became one of our party. Straightway Amelia and I found the +pleasant benefit; instead of quarrelling, as we had been doing, we found +that the restraining influence of a third party was such that we now +took every opportunity of spooning in odd corners. Amelia declares that +ever since she has, as the result of that experience, advised all her +friends to take a friend on the honeymoon. Well, we “did” Nurnberg +together, and much enjoyed the racy remarks of our Transatlantic friend, +who, from his quaint speech and his wonderful stock of adventures, might +have stepped out of a novel. We kept for the last object of interest in +the city to be visited the Burg, and on the day appointed for the visit +strolled round the outer wall of the city by the eastern side.</p> + +<p>The Burg is seated on a rock dominating the town and an immensely deep +fosse guards it on the northern side. Nurnberg has been happy in that it +was never sacked; had it been it would certainly not be so spick and +span perfect as it is at present. The ditch has not been used for +centuries, and now its base is spread with tea-gardens and orchards, of +which some of the trees are of quite respectable growth. As we wandered +round the wall, dawdling in the hot July sunshine, we often paused to +admire the views spread before us, and in especial the great plain +covered with towns and villages and bounded with a blue line of hills, +like a landscape of Claude Lorraine. From this we always turned with new +delight to the city itself, with its myriad of quaint old gables and +acre-wide red roofs dotted with dormer windows, tier upon tier. A little +to our right rose the towers of the Burg, and nearer still, standing +grim, the Torture Tower, which was, and is, perhaps, the most +interesting place in the city. For centuries the tradition of the Iron +Virgin of Nurnberg has been handed down as an instance of the horrors of +cruelty of which man is capable; we had long looked forward to seeing +it; and here at last was its home.</p> + +<p>In one of our pauses we leaned over the wall of the moat and looked +down. The garden seemed quite fifty or sixty feet below us, and the sun +pouring into it with an intense, moveless heat like that of an oven. +Beyond rose the grey, grim wall seemingly of endless height, and losing +itself right and left in the angles of bastion and counterscarp. Trees +and bushes crowned the wall, and above again towered the lofty houses on +whose massive beauty Time has only set the hand of approval. The sun was +hot and we were lazy; time was our own, and we lingered, leaning on the +wall. Just below us was a pretty sight—a great black cat lying +stretched in the sun, whilst round her gambolled prettily a tiny black +kitten. The mother would wave her tail for the kitten to play with, or +would raise her feet and push away the little one as an encouragement to +further play. They were just at the foot of the wall, and Elias P. +Hutcheson, in order to help the play, stooped and took from the walk a +moderate sized pebble.</p> + +<p>“See!” he said, “I will drop it near the kitten, and they will both +wonder where it came from.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, be careful,” said my wife; “you might hit the dear little thing!”</p> + +<p>“Not me, ma’am,” said Elias P. “Why, I’m as tender as a Maine +cherry-tree. Lor, bless ye. I wouldn’t hurt the poor pooty little +critter more’n I’d scalp a baby. An’ you may bet your variegated socks +on that! See, I’ll drop it fur away on the outside so’s not to go near +her!” Thus saying, he leaned over and held his arm out at full length +and dropped the stone. It may be that there is some attractive force +which draws lesser matters to greater; or more probably that the wall +was not plump but sloped to its base—we not noticing the inclination +from above; but the stone fell with a sickening thud that came up to us +through the hot air, right on the kitten’s head, and shattered out its +little brains then and there. The black cat cast a swift upward glance, +and we saw her eyes like green fire fixed an instant on Elias P. +Hutcheson; and then her attention was given to the kitten, which lay +still with just a quiver of her tiny limbs, whilst a thin red stream +trickled from a gaping wound. With a muffled cry, such as a human being +might give, she bent over the kitten licking its wounds and moaning. +Suddenly she seemed to realise that it was dead, and again threw her +eyes up at us. I shall never forget the sight, for she looked the +perfect incarnation of hate. Her green eyes blazed with lurid fire, and +the white, sharp teeth seemed to almost shine through the blood which +dabbled her mouth and whiskers. She gnashed her teeth, and her claws +stood out stark and at full length on every paw. Then she made a wild +rush up the wall as if to reach us, but when the momentum ended fell +back, and further added to her horrible appearance for she fell on the +kitten, and rose with her black fur smeared with its brains and blood. +Amelia turned quite faint, and I had to lift her back from the wall. +There was a seat close by in shade of a spreading plane-tree, and here I +placed her whilst she composed herself. Then I went back to Hutcheson, +who stood without moving, looking down on the angry cat below.</p> + +<p>As I joined him, he said:</p> + +<p>“Wall, I guess that air the savagest beast I ever see—’cept once when +an Apache squaw had an edge on a half-breed what they nicknamed +‘Splinters’ “cos of the way he fixed up her papoose which he stole on a +raid just to show that he appreciated the way they had given his mother +the fire torture. She got that kinder look so set on her face that it +jest seemed to grow there. She followed Splinters mor’n three year till +at last the braves got him and handed him over to her. They did say that +no man, white or Injun, had ever been so long a-dying under the tortures +of the Apaches. The only time I ever see her smile was when I wiped her +out. I kem on the camp just in time to see Splinters pass in his checks, +and he wasn’t sorry to go either. He was a hard citizen, and though I +never could shake with him after that papoose business—for it was +bitter bad, and he should have been a white man, for he looked like +one—I see he had got paid out in full. Durn me, but I took a piece of +his hide from one of his skinnin’ posts an’ had it made into a +pocket-book. It’s here now!” and he slapped the breast pocket of his +coat.</p> + +<p>Whilst he was speaking the cat was continuing her frantic efforts to get +up the wall. She would take a run back and then charge up, sometimes +reaching an incredible height. She did not seem to mind the heavy fall +which she got each time but started with renewed vigour; and at every +tumble her appearance became more horrible. Hutcheson was a kind-hearted +man—my wife and I had both noticed little acts of kindness to animals +as well as to persons—and he seemed concerned at the state of fury to +which the cat had wrought herself.</p> + +<p>“Wall, now!” he said, “I du declare that that poor critter seems quite +desperate. There! there! poor thing, it was all an accident—though that +won’t bring back your little one to you. Say! I wouldn’t have had such a +thing happen for a thousand! Just shows what a clumsy fool of a man can +do when he tries to play! Seems I’m too darned slipperhanded to even +play with a cat. Say Colonel!” it was a pleasant way he had to bestow +titles freely—“I hope your wife don’t hold no grudge against me on +account of this unpleasantness? Why, I wouldn’t have had it occur on no +account.”</p> + +<p>He came over to Amelia and apologised profusely, and she with her usual +kindness of heart hastened to assure him that she quite understood that +it was an accident. Then we all went again to the wall and looked over.</p> + +<p>The cat missing Hutcheson’s face had drawn back across the moat, and was +sitting on her haunches as though ready to spring. Indeed, the very +instant she saw him she did spring, and with a blind unreasoning fury, +which would have been grotesque, only that it was so frightfully real. +She did not try to run up the wall, but simply launched herself at him +as though hate and fury could lend her wings to pass straight through +the great distance between them. Amelia, womanlike, got quite concerned, +and said to Elias P. in a warning voice:</p> + +<p>“Oh! you must be very careful. That animal would try to kill you if she +were here; her eyes look like positive murder.”</p> + +<p>He laughed out jovially. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, “but I can’t help +laughin’. Fancy a man that has fought grizzlies an’ Injuns bein’ careful +of bein’ murdered by a cat!”</p> + +<p>When the cat heard him laugh, her whole demeanour seemed to change. She +no longer tried to jump or run up the wall, but went quietly over, and +sitting again beside the dead kitten began to lick and fondle it as +though it were alive.</p> + +<p>“See!” said I, “the effect of a really strong man. Even that animal in +the midst of her fury recognises the voice of a master, and bows to +him!”</p> + +<p>“Like a squaw!” was the only comment of Elias P. Hutcheson, as we moved +on our way round the city fosse. Every now and then we looked over the +wall and each time saw the cat following us. At first she had kept going +back to the dead kitten, and then as the distance grew greater took it +in her mouth and so followed. After a while, however, she abandoned +this, for we saw her following all alone; she had evidently hidden the +body somewhere. Amelia’s alarm grew at the cat’s persistence, and more +than once she repeated her warning; but the American always laughed with +amusement, till finally, seeing that she was beginning to be worried, he +said:</p> + +<p>“I say, ma’am, you needn’t be skeered over that cat. I go heeled, I du!” +Here he slapped his pistol pocket at the back of his lumbar region. “Why +sooner’n have you worried, I’ll shoot the critter, right here, an’ risk +the police interferin’ with a citizen of the United States for carryin’ +arms contrairy to reg’lations!” As he spoke he looked over the wall, but +the cat on seeing him, retreated, with a growl, into a bed of tall +flowers, and was hidden. He went on: “Blest if that ar critter ain’t got +more sense of what’s good for her than most Christians. I guess we’ve +seen the last of her! You bet, she’ll go back now to that busted kitten +and have a private funeral of it, all to herself!”</p> + +<p>Amelia did not like to say more, lest he might, in mistaken kindness to +her, fulfil his threat of shooting the cat: and so we went on and +crossed the little wooden bridge leading to the gateway whence ran the +steep paved roadway between the Burg and the pentagonal Torture Tower. +As we crossed the bridge we saw the cat again down below us. When she +saw us her fury seemed to return, and she made frantic efforts to get up +the steep wall. Hutcheson laughed as he looked down at her, and said:</p> + +<p>“Goodbye, old girl. Sorry I injured your feelin’s, but you’ll get over +it in time! So long!” And then we passed through the long, dim archway +and came to the gate of the Burg.</p> + +<p>When we came out again after our survey of this most beautiful old place +which not even the well-intentioned efforts of the Gothic restorers of +forty years ago have been able to spoil—though their restoration was +then glaring white—we seemed to have quite forgotten the unpleasant +episode of the morning. The old lime tree with its great trunk gnarled +with the passing of nearly nine centuries, the deep well cut through the +heart of the rock by those captives of old, and the lovely view from the +city wall whence we heard, spread over almost a full quarter of an hour, +the multitudinous chimes of the city, had all helped to wipe out from +our minds the incident of the slain kitten.</p> + +<p>We were the only visitors who had entered the Torture Tower that +morning—so at least said the old custodian—and as we had the place all +to ourselves were able to make a minute and more satisfactory survey +than would have otherwise been possible. The custodian, looking to us as +the sole source of his gains for the day, was willing to meet our wishes +in any way. The Torture Tower is truly a grim place, even now when many +thousands of visitors have sent a stream of life, and the joy that +follows life, into the place; but at the time I mention it wore its +grimmest and most gruesome aspect. The dust of ages seemed to have +settled on it, and the darkness and the horror of its memories seem to +have become sentient in a way that would have satisfied the Pantheistic +souls of Philo or Spinoza. The lower chamber where we entered was +seemingly, in its normal state, filled with incarnate darkness; even the +hot sunlight streaming in through the door seemed to be lost in the vast +thickness of the walls, and only showed the masonry rough as when the +builder’s scaffolding had come down, but coated with dust and marked +here and there with patches of dark stain which, if walls could speak, +could have given their own dread memories of fear and pain. We were glad +to pass up the dusty wooden staircase, the custodian leaving the outer +door open to light us somewhat on our way; for to our eyes the one +long-wick’d, evil-smelling candle stuck in a sconce on the wall gave an +inadequate light. When we came up through the open trap in the corner of +the chamber overhead, Amelia held on to me so tightly that I could +actually feel her heart beat. I must say for my own part that I was not +surprised at her fear, for this room was even more gruesome than that +below. Here there was certainly more light, but only just sufficient to +realise the horrible surroundings of the place. The builders of the +tower had evidently intended that only they who should gain the top +should have any of the joys of light and prospect. There, as we had +noticed from below, were ranges of windows, albeit of mediaeval +smallness, but elsewhere in the tower were only a very few narrow slits +such as were habitual in places of mediaeval defence. A few of these +only lit the chamber, and these so high up in the wall that from no part +could the sky be seen through the thickness of the walls. In racks, and +leaning in disorder against the walls, were a number of headsmen’s +swords, great double-handed weapons with broad blade and keen edge. Hard +by were several blocks whereon the necks of the victims had lain, with +here and there deep notches where the steel had bitten through the guard +of flesh and shored into the wood. Round the chamber, placed in all +sorts of irregular ways, were many implements of torture which made +one’s heart ache to see—chairs full of spikes which gave instant and +excruciating pain; chairs and couches with dull knobs whose torture was +seemingly less, but which, though slower, were equally efficacious; +racks, belts, boots, gloves, collars, all made for compressing at will; +steel baskets in which the head could be slowly crushed into a pulp if +necessary; watchmen’s hooks with long handle and knife that cut at +resistance—this a speciality of the old Nurnberg police system; and +many, many other devices for man’s injury to man. Amelia grew quite pale +with the horror of the things, but fortunately did not faint, for being +a little overcome she sat down on a torture chair, but jumped up again +with a shriek, all tendency to faint gone. We both pretended that it was +the injury done to her dress by the dust of the chair, and the rusty +spikes which had upset her, and Mr. Hutcheson acquiesced in accepting +the explanation with a kind-hearted laugh.</p> + +<p>But the central object in the whole of this chamber of horrors was the +engine known as the Iron Virgin, which stood near the centre of the +room. It was a rudely-shaped figure of a woman, something of the bell +order, or, to make a closer comparison, of the figure of Mrs. Noah in +the children’s Ark, but without that slimness of waist and perfect +<i>rondeur</i> of hip which marks the aesthetic type of the Noah family. One +would hardly have recognised it as intended for a human figure at all +had not the founder shaped on the forehead a rude semblance of a woman’s +face. This machine was coated with rust without, and covered with dust; +a rope was fastened to a ring in the front of the figure, about where +the waist should have been, and was drawn through a pulley, fastened on +the wooden pillar which sustained the flooring above. The custodian +pulling this rope showed that a section of the front was hinged like a +door at one side; we then saw that the engine was of considerable +thickness, leaving just room enough inside for a man to be placed. The +door was of equal thickness and of great weight, for it took the +custodian all his strength, aided though he was by the contrivance of +the pulley, to open it. This weight was partly due to the fact that the +door was of manifest purpose hung so as to throw its weight downwards, +so that it might shut of its own accord when the strain was released. +The inside was honeycombed with rust—nay more, the rust alone that +comes through time would hardly have eaten so deep into the iron walls; +the rust of the cruel stains was deep indeed! It was only, however, when +we came to look at the inside of the door that the diabolical intention +was manifest to the full. Here were several long spikes, square and +massive, broad at the base and sharp at the points, placed in such a +position that when the door should close the upper ones would pierce the +eyes of the victim, and the lower ones his heart and vitals. The sight +was too much for poor Amelia, and this time she fainted dead off, and I +had to carry her down the stairs, and place her on a bench outside till +she recovered. That she felt it to the quick was afterwards shown by the +fact that my eldest son bears to this day a rude birthmark on his +breast, which has, by family consent, been accepted as representing the +Nurnberg Virgin.</p> + +<p>When we got back to the chamber we found Hutcheson still opposite the +Iron Virgin; he had been evidently philosophising, and now gave us the +benefit of his thought in the shape of a sort of exordium.</p> + +<p>“Wall, I guess I’ve been learnin’ somethin’ here while madam has been +gettin’ over her faint. “Pears to me that we’re a long way behind the +times on our side of the big drink. We uster think out on the plains +that the Injun could give us points in tryin’ to make a man +uncomfortable; but I guess your old mediaeval law-and-order party could +raise him every time. Splinters was pretty good in his bluff on the +squaw, but this here young miss held a straight flush all high on him. +The points of them spikes air sharp enough still, though even the edges +air eaten out by what uster be on them. It’d be a good thing for our +Indian section to get some specimens of this here play-toy to send round +to the Reservations jest to knock the stuffin’ out of the bucks, and the +squaws too, by showing them as how old civilisation lays over them at +their best. Guess but I’ll get in that box a minute jest to see how it +feels!”</p> + +<p>“Oh no! no!” said Amelia. “It is too terrible!”</p> + +<p>“Guess, ma’am, nothin’s too terrible to the explorin’ mind. I’ve been in +some queer places in my time. Spent a night inside a dead horse while a +prairie fire swept over me in Montana Territory—an’ another time +slept inside a dead buffler when the Comanches was on the war path an’ I +didn’t keer to leave my kyard on them. I’ve been two days in a caved-in +tunnel in the Billy Broncho gold mine in New Mexico, an’ was one of the +four shut up for three parts of a day in the caisson what slid over on +her side when we was settin’ the foundations of the Buffalo Bridge. I’ve +not funked an odd experience yet, an’ I don’t propose to begin now!”</p> + +<p>We saw that he was set on the experiment, so I said: “Well, hurry up, +old man, and get through it quick!”</p> + +<p>“All right, General,” said he, “but I calculate we ain’t quite ready +yet. The gentlemen, my predecessors, what stood in that thar canister, +didn’t volunteer for the office—not much! And I guess there was some +ornamental tyin’ up before the big stroke was made. I want to go into +this thing fair and square, so I must get fixed up proper first. I dare +say this old galoot can rise some string and tie me up accordin’ to +sample?”</p> + +<p>This was said interrogatively to the old custodian, but the latter, who +understood the drift of his speech, though perhaps not appreciating to +the full the niceties of dialect and imagery, shook his head. His +protest was, however, only formal and made to be overcome. The American +thrust a gold piece into his hand, saying: “Take it, pard! it’s your +pot; and don’t be skeer’d. This ain’t no necktie party that you’re asked +to assist in!” He produced some thin frayed rope and proceeded to bind +our companion with sufficient strictness for the purpose. When the upper +part of his body was bound, Hutcheson said:</p> + +<p>“Hold on a moment, Judge. Guess I’m too heavy for you to tote into the +canister. You jest let me walk in, and then you can wash up regardin’ my +legs!”</p> + +<p>Whilst speaking he had backed himself into the opening which was just +enough to hold him. It was a close fit and no mistake. Amelia looked on +with fear in her eyes, but she evidently did not like to say anything. +Then the custodian completed his task by tying the American’s feet +together so that he was now absolutely helpless and fixed in his +voluntary prison. He seemed to really enjoy it, and the incipient smile +which was habitual to his face blossomed into actuality as he said:</p> + +<p>“Guess this here Eve was made out of the rib of a dwarf! There ain’t +much room for a full-grown citizen of the United States to hustle. We +uster make our coffins more roomier in Idaho territory. Now, Judge, you +jest begin to let this door down, slow, on to me. I want to feel the +same pleasure as the other jays had when those spikes began to move +toward their eyes!”</p> + +<p>“Oh no! no! no!” broke in Amelia hysterically. “It is too terrible! I +can’t bear to see it!—I can’t! I can’t!” But the American was obdurate. +“Say, Colonel,” said he, “why not take Madame for a little promenade? I +wouldn’t hurt her feelin’s for the world; but now that I am here, havin’ +kem eight thousand miles, wouldn’t it be too hard to give up the very +experience I’ve been pinin’ an’ pantin’ fur? A man can’t get to feel +like canned goods every time! Me and the Judge here’ll fix up this thing +in no time, an’ then you’ll come back, an’ we’ll all laugh together!”</p> + +<p>Once more the resolution that is born of curiosity triumphed, and Amelia +stayed holding tight to my arm and shivering whilst the custodian began +to slacken slowly inch by inch the rope that held back the iron door. +Hutcheson’s face was positively radiant as his eyes followed the first +movement of the spikes.</p> + +<p>“Wall!” he said, “I guess I’ve not had enjoyment like this since I left +Noo York. Bar a scrap with a French sailor at Wapping—an’ that warn’t +much of a picnic neither—I’ve not had a show fur real pleasure in this +dod-rotted Continent, where there ain’t no b’ars nor no Injuns, an’ +wheer nary man goes heeled. Slow there, Judge! Don’t you rush this +business! I want a show for my money this game—I du!”</p> + +<p>The custodian must have had in him some of the blood of his predecessors +in that ghastly tower, for he worked the engine with a deliberate and +excruciating slowness which after five minutes, in which the outer edge +of the door had not moved half as many inches, began to overcome Amelia. +I saw her lips whiten, and felt her hold upon my arm relax. I looked +around an instant for a place whereon to lay her, and when I looked at +her again found that her eye had become fixed on the side of the Virgin. +Following its direction I saw the black cat crouching out of sight. Her +green eyes shone like danger lamps in the gloom of the place, and their +colour was heightened by the blood which still smeared her coat and +reddened her mouth. I cried out:</p> + +<p>“The cat! look out for the cat!” for even then she sprang out before the +engine. At this moment she looked like a triumphant demon. Her eyes +blazed with ferocity, her hair bristled out till she seemed twice her +normal size, and her tail lashed about as does a tiger’s when the quarry +is before it. Elias P. Hutcheson when he saw her was amused, and his +eyes positively sparkled with fun as he said:</p> + +<p>“Darned if the squaw hain’t got on all her war paint! Jest give her a +shove off if she comes any of her tricks on me, for I’m so fixed +everlastingly by the boss, that durn my skin if I can keep my eyes from +her if she wants them! Easy there, Judge! don’t you slack that ar rope +or I’m euchered!”</p> + +<p>At this moment Amelia completed her faint, and I had to clutch hold of +her round the waist or she would have fallen to the floor. Whilst +attending to her I saw the black cat crouching for a spring, and jumped +up to turn the creature out.</p> + +<p>But at that instant, with a sort of hellish scream, she hurled herself, +not as we expected at Hutcheson, but straight at the face of the +custodian. Her claws seemed to be tearing wildly as one sees in the +Chinese drawings of the dragon rampant, and as I looked I saw one of +them light on the poor man’s eye, and actually tear through it and down +his cheek, leaving a wide band of red where the blood seemed to spurt +from every vein.</p> + +<p>With a yell of sheer terror which came quicker than even his sense of +pain, the man leaped back, dropping as he did so the rope which held +back the iron door. I jumped for it, but was too late, for the cord ran +like lightning through the pulley-block, and the heavy mass fell forward +from its own weight.</p> + +<p>As the door closed I caught a glimpse of our poor companion’s face. He +seemed frozen with terror. His eyes stared with a horrible anguish as if +dazed, and no sound came from his lips.</p> + +<p>And then the spikes did their work. Happily the end was quick, for when +I wrenched open the door they had pierced so deep that they had locked +in the bones of the skull through which they had crushed, and actually +tore him—it—out of his iron prison till, bound as he was, he fell at +full length with a sickly thud upon the floor, the face turning upward +as he fell.</p> + +<p>I rushed to my wife, lifted her up and carried her out, for I feared for +her very reason if she should wake from her faint to such a scene. I +laid her on the bench outside and ran back. Leaning against the wooden +column was the custodian moaning in pain whilst he held his reddening +handkerchief to his eyes. And sitting on the head of the poor American +was the cat, purring loudly as she licked the blood which trickled +through the gashed socket of his eyes.</p> + +<p>I think no one will call me cruel because I seized one of the old +executioner’s swords and shore her in two as she sat. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>The Secret of the Growing Gold</h2> + +<p> +When Margaret Delandre went to live at Brent’s Rock the whole +neighbourhood awoke to the pleasure of an entirely new scandal. Scandals +in connection with either the Delandre family or the Brents of Brent’s +Rock, were not few; and if the secret history of the county had been +written in full both names would have been found well represented. It is +true that the status of each was so different that they might have +belonged to different continents—or to different worlds for the matter +of that—for hitherto their orbits had never crossed. The Brents were +accorded by the whole section of the country a unique social dominance, +and had ever held themselves as high above the yeoman class to which +Margaret Delandre belonged, as a blue-blooded Spanish hidalgo out-tops +his peasant tenantry.</p> + +<p>The Delandres had an ancient record and were proud of it in their way as +the Brents were of theirs. But the family had never risen above +yeomanry; and although they had been once well-to-do in the good old +times of foreign wars and protection, their fortunes had withered under +the scorching of the free trade sun and the “piping times of peace.” +They had, as the elder members used to assert, “stuck to the land”, with +the result that they had taken root in it, body and soul. In fact, they, +having chosen the life of vegetables, had flourished as vegetation +does—blossomed and thrived in the good season and suffered in the bad. +Their holding, Dander’s Croft, seemed to have been worked out, and to be +typical of the family which had inhabited it. The latter had declined +generation after generation, sending out now and again some abortive +shoot of unsatisfied energy in the shape of a soldier or sailor, who had +worked his way to the minor grades of the services and had there +stopped, cut short either from unheeding gallantry in action or from +that destroying cause to men without breeding or youthful care—the +recognition of a position above them which they feel unfitted to fill. +So, little by little, the family dropped lower and lower, the men +brooding and dissatisfied, and drinking themselves into the grave, the +women drudging at home, or marrying beneath them—or worse. In process +of time all disappeared, leaving only two in the Croft, Wykham Delandre +and his sister Margaret. The man and woman seemed to have inherited in +masculine and feminine form respectively the evil tendency of their +race, sharing in common the principles, though manifesting them in +different ways, of sullen passion, voluptuousness and recklessness.</p> + +<p>The history of the Brents had been something similar, but showing the +causes of decadence in their aristocratic and not their plebeian forms. +They, too, had sent their shoots to the wars; but their positions had +been different and they had often attained honour—for without flaw they +were gallant, and brave deeds were done by them before the selfish +dissipation which marked them had sapped their vigour.</p> + +<p>The present head of the family—if family it could now be called when +one remained of the direct line—was Geoffrey Brent. He was almost a +type of worn out race, manifesting in some ways its most brilliant +qualities, and in others its utter degradation. He might be fairly +compared with some of those antique Italian nobles whom the painters +have preserved to us with their courage, their unscrupulousness, their +refinement of lust and cruelty—the voluptuary actual with the fiend +potential. He was certainly handsome, with that dark, aquiline, +commanding beauty which women so generally recognise as dominant. With +men he was distant and cold; but such a bearing never deters womankind. +The inscrutable laws of sex have so arranged that even a timid woman is +not afraid of a fierce and haughty man. And so it was that there was +hardly a woman of any kind or degree, who lived within view of Brent’s +Rock, who did not cherish some form of secret admiration for the +handsome wastrel. The category was a wide one, for Brent’s Rock rose up +steeply from the midst of a level region and for a circuit of a hundred +miles it lay on the horizon, with its high old towers and steep roofs +cutting the level edge of wood and hamlet, and far-scattered mansions.</p> + +<p>So long as Geoffrey Brent confined his dissipations to London and Paris +and Vienna—anywhere out of sight and sound of his home—opinion was +silent. It is easy to listen to far off echoes unmoved, and we can treat +them with disbelief, or scorn, or disdain, or whatever attitude of +coldness may suit our purpose. But when the scandal came close home it +was another matter; and the feelings of independence and integrity which +is in people of every community which is not utterly spoiled, asserted +itself and demanded that condemnation should be expressed. Still there +was a certain reticence in all, and no more notice was taken of the +existing facts than was absolutely necessary. Margaret Delandre bore +herself so fearlessly and so openly—she accepted her position as the +justified companion of Geoffrey Brent so naturally that people came to +believe that she was secretly married to him, and therefore thought it +wiser to hold their tongues lest time should justify her and also make +her an active enemy.</p> + +<p>The one person who, by his interference, could have settled all doubts +was debarred by circumstances from interfering in the matter. Wykham +Delandre had quarrelled with his sister—or perhaps it was that she had +quarrelled with him—and they were on terms not merely of armed +neutrality but of bitter hatred. The quarrel had been antecedent to +Margaret going to Brent’s Rock. She and Wykham had almost come to blows. +There had certainly been threats on one side and on the other; and in +the end Wykham, overcome with passion, had ordered his sister to leave +his house. She had risen straightway, and, without waiting to pack up +even her own personal belongings, had walked out of the house. On the +threshold she had paused for a moment to hurl a bitter threat at Wykham +that he would rue in shame and despair to the last hour of his life his +act of that day. Some weeks had since passed; and it was understood in +the neighbourhood that Margaret had gone to London, when she suddenly +appeared driving out with Geoffrey Brent, and the entire neighbourhood +knew before nightfall that she had taken up her abode at the Rock. It +was no subject of surprise that Brent had come back unexpectedly, for +such was his usual custom. Even his own servants never knew when to +expect him, for there was a private door, of which he alone had the key, +by which he sometimes entered without anyone in the house being aware of +his coming. This was his usual method of appearing after a long absence.</p> + +<p>Wykham Delandre was furious at the news. He vowed vengeance—and to keep +his mind level with his passion drank deeper than ever. He tried several +times to see his sister, but she contemptuously refused to meet him. He +tried to have an interview with Brent and was refused by him also. Then +he tried to stop him in the road, but without avail, for Geoffrey was +not a man to be stopped against his will. Several actual encounters took +place between the two men, and many more were threatened and avoided. At +last Wykham Delandre settled down to a morose, vengeful acceptance of +the situation.</p> + +<p>Neither Margaret nor Geoffrey was of a pacific temperament, and it was +not long before there began to be quarrels between them. One thing would +lead to another, and wine flowed freely at Brent’s Rock. Now and again +the quarrels would assume a bitter aspect, and threats would be +exchanged in uncompromising language that fairly awed the listening +servants. But such quarrels generally ended where domestic altercations +do, in reconciliation, and in a mutual respect for the fighting +qualities proportionate to their manifestation. Fighting for its own +sake is found by a certain class of persons, all the world over, to be a +matter of absorbing interest, and there is no reason to believe that +domestic conditions minimise its potency. Geoffrey and Margaret made +occasional absences from Brent’s Rock, and on each of these occasions +Wykham Delandre also absented himself; but as he generally heard of the +absence too late to be of any service, he returned home each time in a +more bitter and discontented frame of mind than before.</p> + +<p>At last there came a time when the absence from Brent’s Rock became +longer than before. Only a few days earlier there had been a quarrel, +exceeding in bitterness anything which had gone before; but this, too, +had been made up, and a trip on the Continent had been mentioned before +the servants. After a few days Wykham Delandre also went away, and it +was some weeks before he returned. It was noticed that he was full of +some new importance—satisfaction, exaltation—they hardly knew how to +call it. He went straightway to Brent’s Rock, and demanded to see +Geoffrey Brent, and on being told that he had not yet returned, said, +with a grim decision which the servants noted:</p> + +<p>“I shall come again. My news is solid—it can wait!” and turned away. +Week after week went by, and month after month; and then there came a +rumour, certified later on, that an accident had occurred in the Zermatt +valley. Whilst crossing a dangerous pass the carriage containing an +English lady and the driver had fallen over a precipice, the gentleman +of the party, Mr. Geoffrey Brent, having been fortunately saved as he +had been walking up the hill to ease the horses. He gave information, +and search was made. The broken rail, the excoriated roadway, the marks +where the horses had struggled on the decline before finally pitching +over into the torrent—all told the sad tale. It was a wet season, and +there had been much snow in the winter, so that the river was swollen +beyond its usual volume, and the eddies of the stream were packed with +ice. All search was made, and finally the wreck of the carriage and the +body of one horse were found in an eddy of the river. Later on the body +of the driver was found on the sandy, torrent-swept waste near Täsch; +but the body of the lady, like that of the other horse, had quite +disappeared, and was—what was left of it by that time—whirling amongst +the eddies of the Rhone on its way down to the Lake of Geneva.</p> + +<p>Wykham Delandre made all the enquiries possible, but could not find any +trace of the missing woman. He found, however, in the books of the +various hotels the name of “Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey Brent”. And he had a +stone erected at Zermatt to his sister’s memory, under her married name, +and a tablet put up in the church at Bretten, the parish in which both +Brent’s Rock and Dander’s Croft were situated.</p> + +<p>There was a lapse of nearly a year, after the excitement of the matter +had worn away, and the whole neighbourhood had gone on its accustomed +way. Brent was still absent, and Delandre more drunken, more morose, and +more revengeful than before.</p> + +<p>Then there was a new excitement. Brent’s Rock was being made ready for a +new mistress. It was officially announced by Geoffrey himself in a +letter to the Vicar, that he had been married some months before to an +Italian lady, and that they were then on their way home. Then a small +army of workmen invaded the house; and hammer and plane sounded, and a +general air of size and paint pervaded the atmosphere. One wing of the +old house, the south, was entirely re-done; and then the great body of +the workmen departed, leaving only materials for the doing of the old +hall when Geoffrey Brent should have returned, for he had directed that +the decoration was only to be done under his own eyes. He had brought +with him accurate drawings of a hall in the house of his bride’s father, +for he wished to reproduce for her the place to which she had been +accustomed. As the moulding had all to be re-done, some scaffolding +poles and boards were brought in and laid on one side of the great hall, +and also a great wooden tank or box for mixing the lime, which was laid +in bags beside it.</p> + +<p>When the new mistress of Brent’s Rock arrived the bells of the church +rang out, and there was a general jubilation. She was a beautiful +creature, full of the poetry and fire and passion of the South; and the +few English words which she had learned were spoken in such a sweet and +pretty broken way that she won the hearts of the people almost as much +by the music of her voice as by the melting beauty of her dark eyes.</p> + +<p>Geoffrey Brent seemed more happy than he had ever before appeared; but +there was a dark, anxious look on his face that was new to those who +knew him of old, and he started at times as though at some noise that +was unheard by others.</p> + +<p>And so months passed and the whisper grew that at last Brent’s Rock was +to have an heir. Geoffrey was very tender to his wife, and the new bond +between them seemed to soften him. He took more interest in his tenants +and their needs than he had ever done; and works of charity on his part +as well as on his sweet young wife’s were not lacking. He seemed to have +set all his hopes on the child that was coming, and as he looked deeper +into the future the dark shadow that had come over his face seemed to +die gradually away.</p> + +<p>All the time Wykham Delandre nursed his revenge. Deep in his heart had +grown up a purpose of vengeance which only waited an opportunity to +crystallise and take a definite shape. His vague idea was somehow +centred in the wife of Brent, for he knew that he could strike him best +through those he loved, and the coming time seemed to hold in its womb +the opportunity for which he longed. One night he sat alone in the +living-room of his house. It had once been a handsome room in its way, +but time and neglect had done their work and it was now little better +than a ruin, without dignity or picturesqueness of any kind. He had been +drinking heavily for some time and was more than half stupefied. He +thought he heard a noise as of someone at the door and looked up. Then +he called half savagely to come in; but there was no response. With a +muttered blasphemy he renewed his potations. Presently he forgot all +around him, sank into a daze, but suddenly awoke to see standing before +him someone or something like a battered, ghostly edition of his sister. +For a few moments there came upon him a sort of fear. The woman before +him, with distorted features and burning eyes seemed hardly human, and +the only thing that seemed a reality of his sister, as she had been, was +her wealth of golden hair, and this was now streaked with grey. She eyed +her brother with a long, cold stare; and he, too, as he looked and began +to realise the actuality of her presence, found the hatred of her which +he had had, once again surging up in his heart. All the brooding passion +of the past year seemed to find a voice at once as he asked her:</p> + +<p>“Why are you here? You’re dead and buried.”</p> + +<p>“I am here, Wykham Delandre, for no love of you, but because I hate +another even more than I do you!” A great passion blazed in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Him?” he asked, in so fierce a whisper that even the woman was for an +instant startled till she regained her calm.</p> + +<p>“Yes, him!” she answered. “But make no mistake, my revenge is my own; +and I merely use you to help me to it.” Wykham asked suddenly:</p> + +<p>“Did he marry you?”</p> + +<p>The woman’s distorted face broadened out in a ghastly attempt at a +smile. It was a hideous mockery, for the broken features and seamed +scars took strange shapes and strange colours, and queer lines of white +showed out as the straining muscles pressed on the old cicatrices.</p> + +<p>“So you would like to know! It would please your pride to feel that your +sister was truly married! Well, you shall not know. That was my revenge +on you, and I do not mean to change it by a hair’s breadth. I have come +here tonight simply to let you know that I am alive, so that if any +violence be done me where I am going there may be a witness.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” demanded her brother.</p> + +<p>“That is my affair! and I have not the least intention of letting you +know!” Wykham stood up, but the drink was on him and he reeled and fell. +As he lay on the floor he announced his intention of following his +sister; and with an outburst of splenetic humour told her that he would +follow her through the darkness by the light of her hair, and of her +beauty. At this she turned on him, and said that there were others +beside him that would rue her hair and her beauty too. “As he will,” she +hissed; “for the hair remains though the beauty be gone. When he +withdrew the lynch-pin and sent us over the precipice into the torrent, +he had little thought of my beauty. Perhaps his beauty would be scarred +like mine were he whirled, as I was, among the rocks of the Visp, and +frozen on the ice pack in the drift of the river. But let him beware! +His time is coming!” and with a fierce gesture she flung open the door +and passed out into the night.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Later on that night, Mrs. Brent, who was but half-asleep, became +suddenly awake and spoke to her husband:</p> + +<p>“Geoffrey, was not that the click of a lock somewhere below our window?”</p> + +<p>But Geoffrey—though she thought that he, too, had started at the +noise—seemed sound asleep, and breathed heavily. Again Mrs. Brent +dozed; but this time awoke to the fact that her husband had arisen and +was partially dressed. He was deadly pale, and when the light of the +lamp which he had in his hand fell on his face, she was frightened at +the look in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Geoffrey? What dost thou?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Hush! little one,” he answered, in a strange, hoarse voice. “Go to +sleep. I am restless, and wish to finish some work I left undone.”</p> + +<p>“Bring it here, my husband,” she said; “I am lonely and I fear when thou +art away.”</p> + +<p>For reply he merely kissed her and went out, closing the door behind +him. She lay awake for awhile, and then nature asserted itself, and she +slept.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she started broad awake with the memory in her ears of a +smothered cry from somewhere not far off. She jumped up and ran to the +door and listened, but there was no sound. She grew alarmed for her +husband, and called out: “Geoffrey! Geoffrey!”</p> + +<p>After a few moments the door of the great hall opened, and Geoffrey +appeared at it, but without his lamp.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he said, in a sort of whisper, and his voice was harsh and +stern. “Hush! Get to bed! I am working, and must not be disturbed. Go to +sleep, and do not wake the house!”</p> + +<p>With a chill in her heart—for the harshness of her husband’s voice was +new to her—she crept back to bed and lay there trembling, too +frightened to cry, and listened to every sound. There was a long pause +of silence, and then the sound of some iron implement striking muffled +blows! Then there came a clang of a heavy stone falling, followed by a +muffled curse. Then a dragging sound, and then more noise of stone on +stone. She lay all the while in an agony of fear, and her heart beat +dreadfully. She heard a curious sort of scraping sound; and then there +was silence. Presently the door opened gently, and Geoffrey appeared. +His wife pretended to be asleep; but through her eyelashes she saw him +wash from his hands something white that looked like lime.</p> + +<p>In the morning he made no allusion to the previous night, and she was +afraid to ask any question.</p> + +<p>From that day there seemed some shadow over Geoffrey Brent. He neither +ate nor slept as he had been accustomed, and his former habit of turning +suddenly as though someone were speaking from behind him revived. The +old hall seemed to have some kind of fascination for him. He used to go +there many times in the day, but grew impatient if anyone, even his +wife, entered it. When the builder’s foreman came to inquire about +continuing his work Geoffrey was out driving; the man went into the +hall, and when Geoffrey returned the servant told him of his arrival and +where he was. With a frightful oath he pushed the servant aside and +hurried up to the old hall. The workman met him almost at the door; and +as Geoffrey burst into the room he ran against him. The man apologised:</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, sir, but I was just going out to make some enquiries. I +directed twelve sacks of lime to be sent here, but I see there are only +ten.”</p> + +<p>“Damn the ten sacks and the twelve too!” was the ungracious and +incomprehensible rejoinder.</p> + +<p>The workman looked surprised, and tried to turn the conversation.</p> + +<p>“I see, sir, there is a little matter which our people must have done; +but the governor will of course see it set right at his own cost.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“That “ere “arth-stone, sir: Some idiot must have put a scaffold pole on +it and cracked it right down the middle, and it’s thick enough you’d +think to stand hanythink.” Geoffrey was silent for quite a minute, and +then said in a constrained voice and with much gentler manner:</p> + +<p>“Tell your people that I am not going on with the work in the hall at +present. I want to leave it as it is for a while longer.”</p> + +<p>“All right sir. I’ll send up a few of our chaps to take away these poles +and lime bags and tidy the place up a bit.”</p> + +<p>“No! No!” said Geoffrey, “leave them where they are. I shall send and +tell you when you are to get on with the work.” So the foreman went +away, and his comment to his master was:</p> + +<p>“I’d send in the bill, sir, for the work already done. “Pears to me that +money’s a little shaky in that quarter.”</p> + +<p>Once or twice Delandre tried to stop Brent on the road, and, at last, +finding that he could not attain his object rode after the carriage, +calling out:</p> + +<p>“What has become of my sister, your wife?” Geoffrey lashed his horses +into a gallop, and the other, seeing from his white face and from his +wife’s collapse almost into a faint that his object was attained, rode +away with a scowl and a laugh.</p> + +<p>That night when Geoffrey went into the hall he passed over to the great +fireplace, and all at once started back with a smothered cry. Then with +an effort he pulled himself together and went away, returning with a +light. He bent down over the broken hearth-stone to see if the moonlight +falling through the storied window had in any way deceived him. Then +with a groan of anguish he sank to his knees.</p> + +<p>There, sure enough, through the crack in the broken stone were +protruding a multitude of threads of golden hair just tinged with grey!</p> + +<p>He was disturbed by a noise at the door, and looking round, saw his wife +standing in the doorway. In the desperation of the moment he took action +to prevent discovery, and lighting a match at the lamp, stooped down and +burned away the hair that rose through the broken stone. Then rising +nonchalantly as he could, he pretended surprise at seeing his wife +beside him.</p> + +<p>For the next week he lived in an agony; for, whether by accident or +design, he could not find himself alone in the hall for any length of +time. At each visit the hair had grown afresh through the crack, and he +had to watch it carefully lest his terrible secret should be discovered. +He tried to find a receptacle for the body of the murdered woman outside +the house, but someone always interrupted him; and once, when he was +coming out of the private doorway, he was met by his wife, who began to +question him about it, and manifested surprise that she should not have +before noticed the key which he now reluctantly showed her. Geoffrey +dearly and passionately loved his wife, so that any possibility of her +discovering his dread secrets, or even of doubting him, filled him with +anguish; and after a couple of days had passed, he could not help coming +to the conclusion that, at least, she suspected something.</p> + +<p>That very evening she came into the hall after her drive and found him +there sitting moodily by the deserted fireplace. She spoke to him +directly.</p> + +<p>“Geoffrey, I have been spoken to by that fellow Delandre, and he says +horrible things. He tells to me that a week ago his sister returned to +his house, the wreck and ruin of her former self, with only her golden +hair as of old, and announced some fell intention. He asked me where she +is—and oh, Geoffrey, she is dead, she is dead! So how can she have +returned? Oh! I am in dread, and I know not where to turn!”</p> + +<p>For answer, Geoffrey burst into a torrent of blasphemy which made her +shudder. He cursed Delandre and his sister and all their kind, and in +especial he hurled curse after curse on her golden hair.</p> + +<p>“Oh, hush! hush!” she said, and was then silent, for she feared her +husband when she saw the evil effect of his humour. Geoffrey in the +torrent of his anger stood up and moved away from the hearth; but +suddenly stopped as he saw a new look of terror in his wife’s eyes. He +followed their glance, and then he too, shuddered—for there on the +broken hearth-stone lay a golden streak as the point of the hair rose +though the crack.</p> + +<p>“Look, look!” she shrieked. “Is it some ghost of the dead! Come +away—come away!” and seizing her husband by the wrist with the frenzy +of madness, she pulled him from the room.</p> + +<p>That night she was in a raging fever. The doctor of the district +attended her at once, and special aid was telegraphed for to London. +Geoffrey was in despair, and in his anguish at the danger of his young +wife almost forgot his own crime and its consequences. In the evening +the doctor had to leave to attend to others; but he left Geoffrey in +charge of his wife. His last words were:</p> + +<p>“Remember, you must humour her till I come in the morning, or till some +other doctor has her case in hand. What you have to dread is another +attack of emotion. See that she is kept warm. Nothing more can be done.”</p> + +<p>Late in the evening, when the rest of the household had retired, +Geoffrey’s wife got up from her bed and called to her husband.</p> + +<p>“Come!” she said. “Come to the old hall! I know where the gold comes +from! I want to see it grow!”</p> + +<p>Geoffrey would fain have stopped her, but he feared for her life or +reason on the one hand, and lest in a paroxysm she should shriek out her +terrible suspicion, and seeing that it was useless to try to prevent +her, wrapped a warm rug around her and went with her to the old hall. +When they entered, she turned and shut the door and locked it.</p> + +<p>“We want no strangers amongst us three tonight!” she whispered with a +wan smile.</p> + +<p>“We three! nay we are but two,” said Geoffrey with a shudder; he feared +to say more.</p> + +<p>“Sit here,” said his wife as she put out the light. “Sit here by the +hearth and watch the gold growing. The silver moonlight is jealous! See, +it steals along the floor towards the gold—our gold!” Geoffrey looked +with growing horror, and saw that during the hours that had passed the +golden hair had protruded further through the broken hearth-stone. He +tried to hide it by placing his feet over the broken place; and his +wife, drawing her chair beside him, leant over and laid her head on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Now do not stir, dear,” she said; “let us sit still and watch. We shall +find the secret of the growing gold!” He passed his arm round her and +sat silent; and as the moonlight stole along the floor she sank to +sleep.</p> + +<p>He feared to wake her; and so sat silent and miserable as the hours +stole away.</p> + +<p>Before his horror-struck eyes the golden-hair from the broken stone grew +and grew; and as it increased, so his heart got colder and colder, till +at last he had not power to stir, and sat with eyes full of terror +watching his doom.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In the morning when the London doctor came, neither Geoffrey nor his +wife could be found. Search was made in all the rooms, but without +avail. As a last resource the great door of the old hall was broken +open, and those who entered saw a grim and sorry sight.</p> + +<p>There by the deserted hearth Geoffrey Brent and his young wife sat cold +and white and dead. Her face was peaceful, and her eyes were closed in +sleep; but his face was a sight that made all who saw it shudder, for +there was on it a look of unutterable horror. The eyes were open and +stared glassily at his feet, which were twined with tresses of golden +hair, streaked with grey, which came through the broken hearth-stone. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>The Gipsy Prophecy</h2> + +<p> +“I really think,” said the Doctor, “that, at any rate, one of us should +go and try whether or not the thing is an imposture.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” said Considine. “After dinner we will take our cigars and stroll +over to the camp.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, when the dinner was over, and the <i>La Tour</i> finished, +Joshua Considine and his friend, Dr Burleigh, went over to the east side +of the moor, where the gipsy encampment lay. As they were leaving, Mary +Considine, who had walked as far as the end of the garden where it +opened into the laneway, called after her husband:</p> + +<p>“Mind, Joshua, you are to give them a fair chance, but don’t give them +any clue to a fortune—and don’t you get flirting with any of the gipsy +maidens—and take care to keep Gerald out of harm.”</p> + +<p> +For answer Considine held up his hand, as if taking a stage oath, and whistled +the air of the old song, “The Gipsy Countess.” Gerald joined in the strain, and +then, breaking into merry laughter, the two men passed along the laneway to the +common, turning now and then to wave their hands to Mary, who leaned over the +gate, in the twilight, looking after them. +</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening in the summer; the very air was full of rest and +quiet happiness, as though an outward type of the peacefulness and joy +which made a heaven of the home of the young married folk. Considine’s +life had not been an eventful one. The only disturbing element which he +had ever known was in his wooing of Mary Winston, and the long-continued +objection of her ambitious parents, who expected a brilliant match for +their only daughter. When Mr. and Mrs. Winston had discovered the +attachment of the young barrister, they had tried to keep the young +people apart by sending their daughter away for a long round of visits, +having made her promise not to correspond with her lover during her +absence. Love, however, had stood the test. Neither absence nor neglect +seemed to cool the passion of the young man, and jealousy seemed a thing +unknown to his sanguine nature; so, after a long period of waiting, the +parents had given in, and the young folk were married.</p> + +<p>They had been living in the cottage a few months, and were just +beginning to feel at home. Gerald Burleigh, Joshua’s old college chum, +and himself a sometime victim of Mary’s beauty, had arrived a week +before, to stay with them for as long a time as he could tear himself +away from his work in London.</p> + +<p>When her husband had quite disappeared Mary went into the house, and, +sitting down at the piano, gave an hour to Mendelssohn.</p> + +<p>It was but a short walk across the common, and before the cigars +required renewing the two men had reached the gipsy camp. The place was +as picturesque as gipsy camps—when in villages and when business is +good—usually are. There were some few persons round the fire, investing +their money in prophecy, and a large number of others, poorer or more +parsimonious, who stayed just outside the bounds but near enough to see +all that went on.</p> + +<p>As the two gentlemen approached, the villagers, who knew Joshua, made +way a little, and a pretty, keen-eyed gipsy girl tripped up and asked to +tell their fortunes. Joshua held out his hand, but the girl, without +seeming to see it, stared at his face in a very odd manner. Gerald +nudged him:</p> + +<p>“You must cross her hand with silver,” he said. “It is one of the most +important parts of the mystery.” Joshua took from his pocket a +half-crown and held it out to her, but, without looking at it, she +answered:</p> + +<p>“You have to cross the gipsy’s hand with gold.”</p> + +<p>Gerald laughed. “You are at a premium as a subject,” he said. Joshua was +of the kind of man—the universal kind—who can tolerate being stared at +by a pretty girl; so, with some little deliberation, he answered:</p> + +<p>“All right; here you are, my pretty girl; but you must give me a real +good fortune for it,” and he handed her a half sovereign, which she +took, saying:</p> + +<p>“It is not for me to give good fortune or bad, but only to read what the +Stars have said.” She took his right hand and turned it palm upward; but +the instant her eyes met it she dropped it as though it had been red +hot, and, with a startled look, glided swiftly away. Lifting the curtain +of the large tent, which occupied the centre of the camp, she +disappeared within.</p> + +<p>“Sold again!” said the cynical Gerald. Joshua stood a little amazed, and +not altogether satisfied. They both watched the large tent. In a few +moments there emerged from the opening not the young girl, but a stately +looking woman of middle age and commanding presence.</p> + +<p>The instant she appeared the whole camp seemed to stand still. The +clamour of tongues, the laughter and noise of the work were, for a +second or two, arrested, and every man or woman who sat, or crouched, or +lay, stood up and faced the imperial looking gipsy.</p> + +<p>“The Queen, of course,” murmured Gerald. “We are in luck tonight.” The +gipsy Queen threw a searching glance around the camp, and then, without +hesitating an instant, came straight over and stood before Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Hold out your hand,” she said in a commanding tone.</p> + +<p>Again Gerald spoke, <i>sotto voce</i>: “I have not been spoken to in that way +since I was at school.”</p> + +<p>“Your hand must be crossed with gold.”</p> + +<p>“A hundred per cent. at this game,” whispered Gerald, as Joshua laid +another half sovereign on his upturned palm.</p> + +<p>The gipsy looked at the hand with knitted brows; then suddenly looking +up into his face, said:</p> + +<p>“Have you a strong will—have you a true heart that can be brave for one +you love?”</p> + +<p>“I hope so; but I am afraid I have not vanity enough to say ‘yes’.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will answer for you; for I read resolution in your +face—resolution desperate and determined if need be. You have a wife +you love?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” emphatically.</p> + +<p>“Then leave her at once—never see her face again. Go from her now, +while love is fresh and your heart is free from wicked intent. Go +quick—go far, and never see her face again!”</p> + +<p>Joshua drew away his hand quickly, and said, “Thank you!” stiffly but +sarcastically, as he began to move away.</p> + +<p>“I say!” said Gerald, “you’re not going like that, old man; no use in +being indignant with the Stars or their prophet—and, moreover, your +sovereign—what of it? At least, hear the matter out.”</p> + +<p>“Silence, ribald!” commanded the Queen, “you know not what you do. Let +him go—and go ignorant, if he will not be warned.”</p> + +<p>Joshua immediately turned back. “At all events, we will see this thing +out,” he said. “Now, madam, you have given me advice, but I paid for a +fortune.”</p> + +<p>“Be warned!” said the gipsy. “The Stars have been silent for long; let +the mystery still wrap them round.”</p> + +<p>“My dear madam, I do not get within touch of a mystery every day, and I +prefer for my money knowledge rather than ignorance. I can get the +latter commodity for nothing when I want any of it.”</p> + +<p>Gerald echoed the sentiment. “As for me I have a large and unsaleable +stock on hand.”</p> + +<p>The gipsy Queen eyed the two men sternly, and then said: “As you wish. +You have chosen for yourself, and have met warning with scorn, and +appeal with levity. On your own heads be the doom!”</p> + +<p>“Amen!” said Gerald.</p> + +<p>With an imperious gesture the Queen took Joshua’s hand again, and began +to tell his fortune.</p> + +<p>“I see here the flowing of blood; it will flow before long; it is +running in my sight. It flows through the broken circle of a severed +ring.”</p> + +<p>“Go on!” said Joshua, smiling. Gerald was silent.</p> + +<p>“Must I speak plainer?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; we commonplace mortals want something definite. The Stars +are a long way off, and their words get somewhat dulled in the message.”</p> + +<p>The gipsy shuddered, and then spoke impressively. “This is the hand of a +murderer—the murderer of his wife!” She dropped the hand and turned +away.</p> + +<p>Joshua laughed. “Do you know,” said he, “I think if I were you I should +prophesy some jurisprudence into my system. For instance, you say ‘this +hand is the hand of a murderer.’ Well, whatever it may be in the +future—or potentially—it is at present not one. You ought to give your +prophecy in such terms as ‘the hand which will be a murderer’s’, or, +rather, ‘the hand of one who will be the murderer of his wife’. The +Stars are really not good on technical questions.”</p> + +<p>The gipsy made no reply of any kind, but, with drooping head and +despondent mien, walked slowly to her tent, and, lifting the curtain, +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Without speaking the two men turned homewards, and walked across the +moor. Presently, after some little hesitation, Gerald spoke.</p> + +<p>“Of course, old man, this is all a joke; a ghastly one, but still a +joke. But would it not be well to keep it to ourselves?”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Well, not tell your wife. It might alarm her.”</p> + +<p> +“Alarm her! My dear Gerald, what are you thinking of? Why, she would not +be alarmed or afraid of me if all the gipsies that ever didn’t come from +Bohemia agreed that I was to murder her, or even to have a hard thought +of her, whilst so long as she was saying ‘Jack Robinson.’” +</p> + +<p>Gerald remonstrated. “Old fellow, women are superstitious—far more than +we men are; and, also they are blessed—or cursed—with a nervous system +to which we are strangers. I see too much of it in my work not to +realise it. Take my advice and do not let her know, or you will frighten +her.”</p> + +<p>Joshua’s lips unconsciously hardened as he answered: “My dear fellow, I +would not have a secret from my wife. Why, it would be the beginning of +a new order of things between us. We have no secrets from each other. If +we ever have, then you may begin to look out for something odd between +us.”</p> + +<p>“Still,” said Gerald, “at the risk of unwelcome interference, I say +again be warned in time.”</p> + +<p>“The gipsy’s very words,” said Joshua. “You and she seem quite of one +accord. Tell me, old man, is this a put-up thing? You told me of the +gipsy camp—did you arrange it all with Her Majesty?” This was said with +an air of bantering earnestness. Gerald assured him that he only heard +of the camp that morning; but he made fun of every answer of his friend, +and, in the process of this raillery, the time passed, and they entered +the cottage.</p> + +<p>Mary was sitting at the piano but not playing. The dim twilight had +waked some very tender feelings in her breast, and her eyes were full of +gentle tears. When the men came in she stole over to her husband’s side +and kissed him. Joshua struck a tragic attitude.</p> + +<p>“Mary,” he said in a deep voice, “before you approach me, listen to the +words of Fate. The Stars have spoken and the doom is sealed.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, dear? Tell me the fortune, but do not frighten me.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, my dear; but there is a truth which it is well that you +should know. Nay, it is necessary so that all your arrangements can be +made beforehand, and everything be decently done and in order.”</p> + +<p>“Go on, dear; I am listening.”</p> + +<p>“Mary Considine, your effigy may yet be seen at Madame Tussaud’s. The +juris-imprudent Stars have announced their fell tidings that this hand +is red with blood—your blood. Mary! Mary! my God!” He sprang forward, +but too late to catch her as she fell fainting on the floor.</p> + +<p>“I told you,” said Gerald. “You don’t know them as well as I do.”</p> + +<p>After a little while Mary recovered from her swoon, but only to fall +into strong hysterics, in which she laughed and wept and raved and +cried, “Keep him from me—from me, Joshua, my husband,” and many other +words of entreaty and of fear.</p> + +<p>Joshua Considine was in a state of mind bordering on agony, and when at +last Mary became calm he knelt by her and kissed her feet and hands and +hair and called her all the sweet names and said all the tender things +his lips could frame. All that night he sat by her bedside and held her +hand. Far through the night and up to the early morning she kept waking +from sleep and crying out as if in fear, till she was comforted by the +consciousness that her husband was watching beside her.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was late the next morning, but during it Joshua received a +telegram which required him to drive over to Withering, nearly twenty +miles. He was loth to go; but Mary would not hear of his remaining, and +so before noon he drove off in his dog-cart alone.</p> + +<p>When he was gone Mary retired to her room. She did not appear at lunch, +but when afternoon tea was served on the lawn under the great weeping +willow, she came to join her guest. She was looking quite recovered from +her illness of the evening before. After some casual remarks, she said +to Gerald: “Of course it was very silly about last night, but I could +not help feeling frightened. Indeed I would feel so still if I let +myself think of it. But, after all these people may only imagine things, +and I have got a test that can hardly fail to show that the prediction +is false—if indeed it be false,” she added sadly.</p> + +<p>“What is your plan?” asked Gerald.</p> + +<p>“I shall go myself to the gipsy camp, and have my fortune told by the +Queen.”</p> + +<p>“Capital. May I go with you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! That would spoil it. She might know you and guess at me, and +suit her utterance accordingly. I shall go alone this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>When the afternoon was gone Mary Considine took her way to the gipsy +encampment. Gerald went with her as far as the near edge of the common, +and returned alone.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour had hardly elapsed when Mary entered the drawing-room, +where he lay on a sofa reading. She was ghastly pale and was in a state +of extreme excitement. Hardly had she passed over the threshold when she +collapsed and sank moaning on the carpet. Gerald rushed to aid her, but +by a great effort she controlled herself and motioned him to be silent. +He waited, and his ready attention to her wish seemed to be her best +help, for, in a few minutes, she had somewhat recovered, and was able to +tell him what had passed.</p> + +<p>“When I got to the camp,” she said, “there did not seem to be a soul +about, I went into the centre and stood there. Suddenly a tall woman +stood beside me. ‘Something told me I was wanted!’ she said. I held out +my hand and laid a piece of silver on it. She took from her neck a small +golden trinket and laid it there also; and then, seizing the two, threw +them into the stream that ran by. Then she took my hand in hers and +spoke: ‘Naught but blood in this guilty place,’ and turned away. I +caught hold of her and asked her to tell me more. After some hesitation, +she said: ‘Alas! alas! I see you lying at your husband’s feet, and his +hands are red with blood.’”</p> + +<p>Gerald did not feel at all at ease, and tried to laugh it off. “Surely,” +he said, “this woman has a craze about murder.”</p> + +<p>“Do not laugh,” said Mary, “I cannot bear it,” and then, as if with a +sudden impulse, she left the room.</p> + +<p>Not long after Joshua returned, bright and cheery, and as hungry as a +hunter after his long drive. His presence cheered his wife, who seemed +much brighter, but she did not mention the episode of the visit to the +gipsy camp, so Gerald did not mention it either. As if by tacit consent +the subject was not alluded to during the evening. But there was a +strange, settled look on Mary’s face, which Gerald could not but +observe.</p> + +<p>In the morning Joshua came down to breakfast later than usual. Mary had +been up and about the house from an early hour; but as the time drew on +she seemed to get a little nervous and now and again threw around an +anxious look.</p> + +<p>Gerald could not help noticing that none of those at breakfast could get +on satisfactorily with their food. It was not altogether that the chops +were tough, but that the knives were all so blunt. Being a guest, he, of +course, made no sign; but presently saw Joshua draw his thumb across the +edge of his knife in an unconscious sort of way. At the action Mary +turned pale and almost fainted.</p> + +<p>After breakfast they all went out on the lawn. Mary was making up a +bouquet, and said to her husband, “Get me a few of the tea-roses, dear.”</p> + +<p>Joshua pulled down a cluster from the front of the house. The stem bent, +but was too tough to break. He put his hand in his pocket to get his +knife; but in vain. “Lend me your knife, Gerald,” he said. But Gerald +had not got one, so he went into the breakfast room and took one from +the table. He came out feeling its edge and grumbling. “What on earth +has happened to all the knives—the edges seem all ground off?” Mary +turned away hurriedly and entered the house.</p> + +<p>Joshua tried to sever the stalk with the blunt knife as country cooks +sever the necks of fowl—as schoolboys cut twine. With a little effort +he finished the task. The cluster of roses grew thick, so he determined +to gather a great bunch.</p> + +<p>He could not find a single sharp knife in the sideboard where the +cutlery was kept, so he called Mary, and when she came, told her the +state of things. She looked so agitated and so miserable that he could +not help knowing the truth, and, as if astounded and hurt, asked her:</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say that <i>you</i> have done it?”</p> + +<p>She broke in, “Oh, Joshua, I was so afraid.”</p> + +<p>He paused, and a set, white look came over his face. “Mary!” said he, +“is this all the trust you have in me? I would not have believed it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Joshua! Joshua!” she cried entreatingly, “forgive me,” and wept +bitterly.</p> + +<p>Joshua thought a moment and then said: “I see how it is. We shall better +end this or we shall all go mad.”</p> + +<p>He ran into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” almost screamed Mary.</p> + +<p>Gerald saw what he meant—that he would not be tied to blunt instruments +by the force of a superstition, and was not surprised when he saw him +come out through the French window, bearing in his hand a large Ghourka +knife, which usually lay on the centre table, and which his brother had +sent him from Northern India. It was one of those great hunting-knives +which worked such havoc, at close quarters with the enemies of the loyal +Ghourkas during the mutiny, of great weight but so evenly balanced in +the hand as to seem light, and with an edge like a razor. With one of +these knives a Ghourka can cut a sheep in two.</p> + +<p>When Mary saw him come out of the room with the weapon in his hand she +screamed in an agony of fright, and the hysterics of last night were +promptly renewed.</p> + +<p>Joshua ran toward her, and, seeing her falling, threw down the knife and +tried to catch her.</p> + +<p>However, he was just a second too late, and the two men cried out in +horror simultaneously as they saw her fall upon the naked blade.</p> + +<p>When Gerald rushed over he found that in falling her left hand had +struck the blade, which lay partly upwards on the grass. Some of the +small veins were cut through, and the blood gushed freely from the +wound. As he was tying it up he pointed out to Joshua that the wedding +ring was severed by the steel.</p> + +<p>They carried her fainting to the house. When, after a while, she came +out, with her arm in a sling, she was peaceful in her mind and happy. +She said to her husband:</p> + +<p>“The gipsy was wonderfully near the truth; too near for the real thing +ever to occur now, dear.”</p> + +<p>Joshua bent over and kissed the wounded hand. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>The Coming of Abel Behenna</h2> + +<p> +The little Cornish port of Pencastle was bright in the early April, when +the sun had seemingly come to stay after a long and bitter winter. +Boldly and blackly the rock stood out against a background of shaded +blue, where the sky fading into mist met the far horizon. The sea was of +true Cornish hue—sapphire, save where it became deep emerald green in +the fathomless depths under the cliffs, where the seal caves opened +their grim jaws. On the slopes the grass was parched and brown. The +spikes of furze bushes were ashy grey, but the golden yellow of their +flowers streamed along the hillside, dipping out in lines as the rock +cropped up, and lessening into patches and dots till finally it died +away all together where the sea winds swept round the jutting cliffs and +cut short the vegetation as though with an ever-working aerial shears. +The whole hillside, with its body of brown and flashes of yellow, was +just like a colossal yellow-hammer.</p> + +<p>The little harbour opened from the sea between towering cliffs, and +behind a lonely rock, pierced with many caves and blow-holes through +which the sea in storm time sent its thunderous voice, together with a +fountain of drifting spume. Hence, it wound westwards in a serpentine +course, guarded at its entrance by two little curving piers to left and +right. These were roughly built of dark slates placed endways and held +together with great beams bound with iron bands. Thence, it flowed up +the rocky bed of the stream whose winter torrents had of old cut out its +way amongst the hills. This stream was deep at first, with here and +there, where it widened, patches of broken rock exposed at low water, +full of holes where crabs and lobsters were to be found at the ebb of +the tide. From amongst the rocks rose sturdy posts, used for warping in +the little coasting vessels which frequented the port. Higher up, the +stream still flowed deeply, for the tide ran far inland, but always +calmly for all the force of the wildest storm was broken below. Some +quarter mile inland the stream was deep at high water, but at low tide +there were at each side patches of the same broken rock as lower down, +through the chinks of which the sweet water of the natural stream +trickled and murmured after the tide had ebbed away. Here, too, rose +mooring posts for the fishermen’s boats. At either side of the river was +a row of cottages down almost on the level of high tide. They were +pretty cottages, strongly and snugly built, with trim narrow gardens in +front, full of old-fashioned plants, flowering currants, coloured +primroses, wallflower, and stonecrop. Over the fronts of many of them +climbed clematis and wisteria. The window sides and door posts of all +were as white as snow, and the little pathway to each was paved with +light coloured stones. At some of the doors were tiny porches, whilst at +others were rustic seats cut from tree trunks or from old barrels; in +nearly every case the window ledges were filled with boxes or pots of +flowers or foliage plants.</p> + +<p>Two men lived in cottages exactly opposite each other across the stream. +Two men, both young, both good-looking, both prosperous, and who had +been companions and rivals from their boyhood. Abel Behenna was dark +with the gypsy darkness which the Phœnician mining wanderers left in +their track; Eric Sanson—which the local antiquarian said was a +corruption of Sagamanson—was fair, with the ruddy hue which marked the +path of the wild Norseman. These two seemed to have singled out each +other from the very beginning to work and strive together, to fight for +each other and to stand back to back in all endeavours. They had now put +the coping-stone on their Temple of Unity by falling in love with the +same girl. Sarah Trefusis was certainly the prettiest girl in Pencastle, +and there was many a young man who would gladly have tried his fortune +with her, but that there were two to contend against, and each of these +the strongest and most resolute man in the port—except the other. The +average young man thought that this was very hard, and on account of it +bore no good will to either of the three principals: whilst the average +young woman who had, lest worse should befall, to put up with the +grumbling of her sweetheart, and the sense of being only second best +which it implied, did not either, be sure, regard Sarah with friendly +eye. Thus it came, in the course of a year or so, for rustic courtship +is a slow process, that the two men and woman found themselves thrown +much together. They were all satisfied, so it did not matter, and Sarah, +who was vain and something frivolous, took care to have her revenge on +both men and women in a quiet way. When a young woman in her “walking +out” can only boast one not-quite-satisfied young man, it is no +particular pleasure to her to see her escort cast sheep’s eyes at a +better-looking girl supported by two devoted swains.</p> + +<p>At length there came a time which Sarah dreaded, and which she had tried +to keep distant—the time when she had to make her choice between the +two men. She liked them both, and, indeed, either of them might have +satisfied the ideas of even a more exacting girl. But her mind was so +constituted that she thought more of what she might lose, than of what +she might gain; and whenever she thought she had made up her mind she +became instantly assailed with doubts as to the wisdom of her choice. +Always the man whom she had presumably lost became endowed afresh with a +newer and more bountiful crop of advantages than had ever arisen from +the possibility of his acceptance. She promised each man that on her +birthday she would give him his answer, and that day, the 11th of April, +had now arrived. The promises had been given singly and confidentially, +but each was given to a man who was not likely to forget. Early in the +morning she found both men hovering round her door. Neither had taken +the other into his confidence, and each was simply seeking an early +opportunity of getting his answer, and advancing his suit if necessary. +Damon, as a rule, does not take Pythias with him when making a proposal; +and in the heart of each man his own affairs had a claim far above any +requirements of friendship. So, throughout the day, they kept seeing +each other out. The position was doubtless somewhat embarrassing to +Sarah, and though the satisfaction of her vanity that she should be thus +adored was very pleasing, yet there were moments when she was annoyed +with both men for being so persistent. Her only consolation at such +moments was that she saw, through the elaborate smiles of the other +girls when in passing they noticed her door thus doubly guarded, the +jealousy which filled their hearts. Sarah’s mother was a person of +commonplace and sordid ideas, and, seeing all along the state of +affairs, her one intention, persistently expressed to her daughter in +the plainest words, was to so arrange matters that Sarah should get all +that was possible out of both men. With this purpose she had cunningly +kept herself as far as possible in the background in the matter of her +daughter’s wooings, and watched in silence. At first Sarah had been +indignant with her for her sordid views; but, as usual, her weak nature +gave way before persistence, and she had now got to the stage of +acceptance. She was not surprised when her mother whispered to her in +the little yard behind the house:—</p> + +<p>“Go up the hillside for a while; I want to talk to these two. They’re +both red-hot for ye, and now’s the time to get things fixed!” Sarah +began a feeble remonstrance, but her mother cut her short.</p> + +<p>“I tell ye, girl, that my mind is made up! Both these men want ye, and +only one can have ye, but before ye choose it’ll be so arranged that +ye’ll have all that both have got! Don’t argy, child! Go up the +hillside, and when ye come back I’ll have it fixed—I see a way quite +easy!” So Sarah went up the hillside through the narrow paths between +the golden furze, and Mrs. Trefusis joined the two men in the +living-room of the little house.</p> + +<p>She opened the attack with the desperate courage which is in all mothers +when they think for their children, howsoever mean the thoughts may be.</p> + +<p>“Ye two men, ye’re both in love with my Sarah!”</p> + +<p>Their bashful silence gave consent to the barefaced proposition. She +went on.</p> + +<p>“Neither of ye has much!” Again they tacitly acquiesced in the soft +impeachment.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that either of ye could keep a wife!” Though neither said +a word their looks and bearing expressed distinct dissent. Mrs. Trefusis +went on:</p> + +<p>“But if ye’d put what ye both have together ye’d make a comfortable home +for one of ye—and Sarah!” She eyed the men keenly, with her cunning +eyes half shut, as she spoke; then satisfied from her scrutiny that the +idea was accepted she went on quickly, as if to prevent argument:</p> + +<p>“The girl likes ye both, and mayhap it’s hard for her to choose. Why +don’t ye toss up for her? First put your money together—ye’ve each got +a bit put by, I know. Let the lucky man take the lot and trade with it a +bit, and then come home and marry her. Neither of ye’s afraid, I +suppose! And neither of ye’ll say that he won’t do that much for the +girl that ye both say ye love!”</p> + +<p>Abel broke the silence:</p> + +<p>“It don’t seem the square thing to toss for the girl! She wouldn’t like +it herself, and it doesn’t seem—seem respectful like to her—” Eric +interrupted. He was conscious that his chance was not so good as Abel’s +in case Sarah should wish to choose between them:</p> + +<p>“Are ye afraid of the hazard?”</p> + +<p>“Not me!” said Abel, boldly. Mrs. Trefusis, seeing that her idea was +beginning to work, followed up the advantage.</p> + +<p>“It is settled that ye put yer money together to make a home for her, +whether ye toss for her or leave it for her to choose?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Eric quickly, and Abel agreed with equal sturdiness. Mrs. +Trefusis’ little cunning eyes twinkled. She heard Sarah’s step in the +yard, and said:</p> + +<p>“Well! here she comes, and I leave it to her.” And she went out.</p> + +<p>During her brief walk on the hillside Sarah had been trying to make up +her mind. She was feeling almost angry with both men for being the cause +of her difficulty, and as she came into the room said shortly:</p> + +<p>“I want to have a word with you both—come to the Flagstaff Rock, where +we can be alone.” She took her hat and went out of the house up the +winding path to the steep rock crowned with a high flagstaff, where once +the wreckers’ fire basket used to burn. This was the rock which formed +the northern jaw of the little harbour. There was only room on the path +for two abreast, and it marked the state of things pretty well when, by +a sort of implied arrangement, Sarah went first, and the two men +followed, walking abreast and keeping step. By this time, each man’s +heart was boiling with jealousy. When they came to the top of the rock, +Sarah stood against the flagstaff, and the two young men stood opposite +her. She had chosen her position with knowledge and intention, for there +was no room for anyone to stand beside her. They were all silent for a +while; then Sarah began to laugh and said:—</p> + +<p>“I promised the both of you to give you an answer to-day. I’ve been +thinking and thinking and thinking, till I began to get angry with you +both for plaguing me so; and even now I don’t seem any nearer than ever +I was to making up my mind.” Eric said suddenly:</p> + +<p>“Let us toss for it, lass!” Sarah showed no indignation whatever at the +proposition; her mother’s eternal suggestion had schooled her to the +acceptance of something of the kind, and her weak nature made it easy to +her to grasp at any way out of the difficulty. She stood with downcast +eyes idly picking at the sleeve of her dress, seeming to have tacitly +acquiesced in the proposal. Both men instinctively realising this pulled +each a coin from his pocket, spun it in the air, and dropped his other +hand over the palm on which it lay. For a few seconds they remained +thus, all silent; then Abel, who was the more thoughtful of the men, +spoke:</p> + +<p>“Sarah! is this good?” As he spoke he removed the upper hand from the +coin and placed the latter back in his pocket. Sarah was nettled.</p> + +<p>“Good or bad, it’s good enough for me! Take it or leave it as you like,” +she said, to which he replied quickly:</p> + +<p>“Nay lass! Aught that concerns you is good enow for me. I did but think +of you lest you might have pain or disappointment hereafter. If you love +Eric better nor me, in God’s name say so, and I think I’m man enow to +stand aside. Likewise, if I’m the one, don’t make us both miserable for +life!” Face to face with a difficulty, Sarah’s weak nature proclaimed +itself; she put her hands before her face and began to cry, saying—</p> + +<p>“It was my mother. She keeps telling me!” The silence which followed was +broken by Eric, who said hotly to Abel:</p> + +<p>“Let the lass alone, can’t you? If she wants to choose this way, let +her. It’s good enough for me—and for you, too! She’s said it now, and +must abide by it!” Hereupon Sarah turned upon him in sudden fury, and +cried:</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue! what is it to you, at any rate?” and she resumed her +crying. Eric was so flabbergasted that he had not a word to say, but +stood looking particularly foolish, with his mouth open and his hands +held out with the coin still between them. All were silent till Sarah, +taking her hands from her face laughed hysterically and said:</p> + +<p>“As you two can’t make up your minds, I’m going home!” and she turned to +go.</p> + +<p>“Stop,” said Abel, in an authoritative voice. “Eric, you hold the coin, +and I’ll cry. Now, before we settle it, let us clearly understand: the +man who wins takes all the money that we both have got, brings it to +Bristol and ships on a voyage and trades with it. Then he comes back and +marries Sarah, and they two keep all, whatever there may be, as the +result of the trading. Is this what we understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Eric.</p> + +<p>“I’ll marry him on my next birthday,” said Sarah. Having said it the +intolerably mercenary spirit of her action seemed to strike her, and +impulsively she turned away with a bright blush. Fire seemed to sparkle +in the eyes of both men. Said Eric: “A year so be! The man that wins is +to have one year.”</p> + +<p>“Toss!” cried Abel, and the coin spun in the air. Eric caught it, and +again held it between his outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>“Heads!” cried Abel, a pallor sweeping over his face as he spoke. As he +leaned forward to look Sarah leaned forward too, and their heads almost +touched. He could feel her hair blowing on his cheek, and it thrilled +through him like fire. Eric lifted his upper hand; the coin lay with its +head up. Abel stepped forward and took Sarah in his arms. With a curse +Eric hurled the coin far into the sea. Then he leaned against the +flagstaff and scowled at the others with his hands thrust deep into his +pockets. Abel whispered wild words of passion and delight into Sarah’s +ears, and as she listened she began to believe that fortune had rightly +interpreted the wishes of her secret heart, and that she loved Abel +best.</p> + +<p>Presently Abel looked up and caught sight of Eric’s face as the last ray +of sunset struck it. The red light intensified the natural ruddiness of +his complexion, and he looked as though he were steeped in blood. Abel +did not mind his scowl, for now that his own heart was at rest he could +feel unalloyed pity for his friend. He stepped over meaning to comfort +him, and held out his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>“It was my chance, old lad. Don’t grudge it me. I’ll try to make Sarah a +happy woman, and you shall be a brother to us both!”</p> + +<p>“Brother be damned!” was all the answer Eric made, as he turned away. +When he had gone a few steps down the rocky path he turned and came +back. Standing before Abel and Sarah, who had their arms round each +other, he said:</p> + +<p>“You have a year. Make the most of it! And be sure you’re in time to +claim your wife! Be back to have your banns up in time to be married on +the 11th April. If you’re not, I tell you I shall have my banns up, and +you may get back too late.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Eric? You are mad!”</p> + +<p>“No more mad than you are, Abel Behenna. You go, that’s your chance! I +stay, that’s mine! I don’t mean to let the grass grow under my feet. +Sarah cared no more for you than for me five minutes ago, and she may +come back to that five minutes after you’re gone! You won by a point +only—the game may change.”</p> + +<p>“The game won’t change!” said Abel shortly. “Sarah, you’ll be true to +me? You won’t marry till I return?”</p> + +<p>“For a year!” added Eric, quickly, “that’s the bargain.”</p> + +<p>“I promise for the year,” said Sarah. A dark look came over Abel’s face, +and he was about to speak, but he mastered himself and smiled.</p> + +<p>“I mustn’t be too hard or get angry tonight! Come, Eric! we played and +fought together. I won fairly. I played fairly all the game of our +wooing! You know that as well as I do; and now when I am going away, I +shall look to my old and true comrade to help me when I am gone!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll help you none,” said Eric, “so help me God!”</p> + +<p>“It was God helped me,” said Abel simply.</p> + +<p>“Then let Him go on helping you,” said Eric angrily. “The Devil is good +enough for me!” and without another word he rushed down the steep path +and disappeared behind the rocks.</p> + +<p>When he had gone Abel hoped for some tender passage with Sarah, but the +first remark she made chilled him.</p> + +<p>“How lonely it all seems without Eric!” and this note sounded till he +had left her at home—and after.</p> + +<p>Early on the next morning Abel heard a noise at his door, and on going +out saw Eric walking rapidly away: a small canvas bag full of gold and +silver lay on the threshold; on a small slip of paper pinned to it was +written:</p> + +<p>“Take the money and go. I stay. God for you! The Devil for me! Remember +the 11th of April.—ERIC SANSON.” That afternoon Abel went off to +Bristol, and a week later sailed on the <i>Star of the Sea</i> bound for +Pahang. His money—including that which had been Eric’s—was on board in +the shape of a venture of cheap toys. He had been advised by a shrewd +old mariner of Bristol whom he knew, and who knew the ways of the +Chersonese, who predicted that every penny invested would be returned +with a shilling to boot.</p> + +<p>As the year wore on Sarah became more and more disturbed in her mind. +Eric was always at hand to make love to her in his own persistent, +masterful manner, and to this she did not object. Only one letter came +from Abel, to say that his venture had proved successful, and that he +had sent some two hundred pounds to the bank at Bristol, and was trading +with fifty pounds still remaining in goods for China, whither the <i>Star +of the Sea</i> was bound and whence she would return to Bristol. He +suggested that Eric’s share of the venture should be returned to him +with his share of the profits. This proposition was treated with anger +by Eric, and as simply childish by Sarah’s mother.</p> + +<p>More than six months had since then elapsed, but no other letter had +come, and Eric’s hopes which had been dashed down by the letter from +Pahang, began to rise again. He perpetually assailed Sarah with an “if!” +If Abel did not return, would she then marry him? If the 11th April went +by without Abel being in the port, would she give him over? If Abel had +taken his fortune, and married another girl on the head of it, would she +marry him, Eric, as soon as the truth were known? And so on in an +endless variety of possibilities. The power of the strong will and the +determined purpose over the woman’s weaker nature became in time +manifest. Sarah began to lose her faith in Abel and to regard Eric as a +possible husband; and a possible husband is in a woman’s eye different +to all other men. A new affection for him began to arise in her breast, +and the daily familiarities of permitted courtship furthered the growing +affection. Sarah began to regard Abel as rather a rock in the road of +her life, and had it not been for her mother’s constantly reminding her +of the good fortune already laid by in the Bristol Bank she would have +tried to have shut her eyes altogether to the fact of Abel’s existence.</p> + +<p>The 11th April was Saturday, so that in order to have the marriage on +that day it would be necessary that the banns should be called on +Sunday, 22nd March. From the beginning of that month Eric kept +perpetually on the subject of Abel’s absence, and his outspoken opinion +that the latter was either dead or married began to become a reality to +the woman’s mind. As the first half of the month wore on Eric became +more jubilant, and after church on the 15th he took Sarah for a walk to +the Flagstaff Rock. There he asserted himself strongly:</p> + +<p>“I told Abel, and you too, that if he was not here to put up his banns +in time for the eleventh, I would put up mine for the twelfth. Now the +time has come when I mean to do it. He hasn’t kept his word”—here Sarah +struck in out of her weakness and indecision:</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t broken it yet!” Eric ground his teeth with anger.</p> + +<p>“If you mean to stick up for him,” he said, as he smote his hands +savagely on the flagstaff, which sent forth a shivering murmur, “well +and good. I’ll keep my part of the bargain. On Sunday I shall give +notice of the banns, and you can deny them in the church if you will. If +Abel is in Pencastle on the eleventh, he can have them cancelled, and +his own put up; but till then, I take my course, and woe to anyone who +stands in my way!” With that he flung himself down the rocky pathway, +and Sarah could not but admire his Viking strength and spirit, as, +crossing the hill, he strode away along the cliffs towards Bude.</p> + +<p>During the week no news was heard of Abel, and on Saturday Eric gave +notice of the banns of marriage between himself and Sarah Trefusis. The +clergyman would have remonstrated with him, for although nothing formal +had been told to the neighbours, it had been understood since Abel’s +departure that on his return he was to marry Sarah; but Eric would not +discuss the question.</p> + +<p>“It is a painful subject, sir,” he said with a firmness which the +parson, who was a very young man, could not but be swayed by. “Surely +there is nothing against Sarah or me. Why should there be any bones made +about the matter?” The parson said no more, and on the next day he read +out the banns for the first time amidst an audible buzz from the +congregation. Sarah was present, contrary to custom, and though she +blushed furiously enjoyed her triumph over the other girls whose banns +had not yet come. Before the week was over she began to make her wedding +dress. Eric used to come and look at her at work and the sight thrilled +through him. He used to say all sorts of pretty things to her at such +times, and there were to both delicious moments of love-making.</p> + +<p>The banns were read a second time on the 29th, and Eric’s hope grew more +and more fixed though there were to him moments of acute despair when he +realised that the cup of happiness might be dashed from his lips at any +moment, right up to the last. At such times he was full of +passion—desperate and remorseless—and he ground his teeth and clenched +his hands in a wild way as though some taint of the old Berserker fury +of his ancestors still lingered in his blood. On the Thursday of that +week he looked in on Sarah and found her, amid a flood of sunshine, +putting finishing touches to her white wedding gown. His own heart was +full of gaiety, and the sight of the woman who was so soon to be his own +so occupied, filled him with a joy unspeakable, and he felt faint with +languorous ecstasy. Bending over he kissed Sarah on the mouth, and then +whispered in her rosy ear—</p> + +<p>“Your wedding dress, Sarah! And for me!” As he drew back to admire her +she looked up saucily, and said to him—</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not for you. There is more than a week yet for Abel!” and then +cried out in dismay, for with a wild gesture and a fierce oath Eric +dashed out of the house, banging the door behind him. The incident +disturbed Sarah more than she could have thought possible, for it awoke +all her fears and doubts and indecision afresh. She cried a little, and +put by her dress, and to soothe herself went out to sit for a while on +the summit of the Flagstaff Rock. When she arrived she found there a +little group anxiously discussing the weather. The sea was calm and the +sun bright, but across the sea were strange lines of darkness and light, +and close in to shore the rocks were fringed with foam, which spread out +in great white curves and circles as the currents drifted. The wind had +backed, and came in sharp, cold puffs. The blow-hole, which ran under +the Flagstaff Rock, from the rocky bay without to the harbour within, +was booming at intervals, and the seagulls were screaming ceaselessly as +they wheeled about the entrance of the port.</p> + +<p>“It looks bad,” she heard an old fisherman say to the coastguard. “I +seen it just like this once before, when the East Indiaman <i>Coromandel</i> +went to pieces in Dizzard Bay!” Sarah did not wait to hear more. She was +of a timid nature where danger was concerned, and could not bear to hear +of wrecks and disasters. She went home and resumed the completion of her +dress, secretly determined to appease Eric when she should meet him with +a sweet apology—and to take the earliest opportunity of being even with +him after her marriage. The old fisherman’s weather prophecy was +justified. That night at dusk a wild storm came on. The sea rose and +lashed the western coasts from Skye to Scilly and left a tale of +disaster everywhere. The sailors and fishermen of Pencastle all turned +out on the rocks and cliffs and watched eagerly. Presently, by a flash +of lightning, a “ketch” was seen drifting under only a jib about +half-a-mile outside the port. All eyes and all glasses were concentrated +on her, waiting for the next flash, and when it came a chorus went up +that it was the <i>Lovely Alice</i>, trading between Bristol and Penzance, +and touching at all the little ports between. “God help them!” said the +harbour-master, “for nothing in this world can save them when they are +between Bude and Tintagel and the wind on shore!” The coastguards +exerted themselves, and, aided by brave hearts and willing hands, they +brought the rocket apparatus up on the summit of the Flagstaff Rock. +Then they burned blue lights so that those on board might see the +harbour opening in case they could make any effort to reach it. They +worked gallantly enough on board; but no skill or strength of man could +avail. Before many minutes were over the <i>Lovely Alice</i> rushed to her +doom on the great island rock that guarded the mouth of the port. The +screams of those on board were faintly borne on the tempest as they +flung themselves into the sea in a last chance for life. The blue lights +were kept burning, and eager eyes peered into the depths of the waters +in case any face could be seen; and ropes were held ready to fling out +in aid. But never a face was seen, and the willing arms rested idle. +Eric was there amongst his fellows. His old Icelandic origin was never +more apparent than in that wild hour. He took a rope, and shouted in the +ear of the harbour-master:</p> + +<p>“I shall go down on the rock over the seal cave. The tide is running up, +and someone may drift in there!”</p> + +<p>“Keep back, man!” came the answer. “Are you mad? One slip on that rock +and you are lost: and no man could keep his feet in the dark on such a +place in such a tempest!”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit,” came the reply. “You remember how Abel Behenna saved me +there on a night like this when my boat went on the Gull Rock. He +dragged me up from the deep water in the seal cave, and now someone may +drift in there again as I did,” and he was gone into the darkness. The +projecting rock hid the light on the Flagstaff Rock, but he knew his way +too well to miss it. His boldness and sureness of foot standing to him, +he shortly stood on the great round-topped rock cut away beneath by the +action of the waves over the entrance of the seal cave, where the water +was fathomless. There he stood in comparative safety, for the concave +shape of the rock beat back the waves with their own force, and though +the water below him seemed to boil like a seething cauldron, just beyond +the spot there was a space of almost calm. The rock, too, seemed here to +shut off the sound of the gale, and he listened as well as watched. As +he stood there ready, with his coil of rope poised to throw, he thought +he heard below him, just beyond the whirl of the water, a faint, +despairing cry. He echoed it with a shout that rang into the night. Then +he waited for the flash of lightning, and as it passed flung his rope +out into the darkness where he had seen a face rising through the swirl +of the foam. The rope was caught, for he felt a pull on it, and he +shouted again in his mighty voice:</p> + +<p>“Tie it round your waist, and I shall pull you up.” Then when he felt +that it was fast he moved along the rock to the far side of the sea +cave, where the deep water was something stiller, and where he could get +foothold secure enough to drag the rescued man on the overhanging rock. +He began to pull, and shortly he knew from the rope taken in that the +man he was now rescuing must soon be close to the top of the rock. He +steadied himself for a moment, and drew a long breath, that he might at +the next effort complete the rescue. He had just bent his back to the +work when a flash of lightning revealed to each other the two men—the +rescuer and the rescued.</p> + +<p>Eric Sanson and Abel Behenna were face to face—and none knew of the +meeting save themselves; and God.</p> + +<p>On the instant a wave of passion swept through Eric’s heart. All his +hopes were shattered, and with the hatred of Cain his eyes looked out. +He saw in the instant of recognition the joy in Abel’s face that his was +the hand to succour him, and this intensified his hate. Whilst the +passion was on him he started back, and the rope ran out between his +hands. His moment of hate was followed by an impulse of his better +manhood, but it was too late.</p> + +<p>Before he could recover himself, Abel encumbered with the rope that +should have aided him, was plunged with a despairing cry back into the +darkness of the devouring sea.</p> + +<p>Then, feeling all the madness and the doom of Cain upon him, Eric rushed +back over the rocks, heedless of the danger and eager only for one +thing—to be amongst other people whose living noises would shut out +that last cry which seemed to ring still in his ears. When he regained +the Flagstaff Rock the men surrounded him, and through the fury of the +storm he heard the harbour-master say:—</p> + +<p>“We feared you were lost when we heard a cry! How white you are! Where +is your rope? Was there anyone drifted in?”</p> + +<p>“No one,” he shouted in answer, for he felt that he could never explain +that he had let his old comrade slip back into the sea, and at the very +place and under the very circumstances in which that comrade had saved +his own life. He hoped by one bold lie to set the matter at rest for +ever. There was no one to bear witness—and if he should have to carry +that still white face in his eyes and that despairing cry in his ears +for evermore—at least none should know of it. “No one,” he cried, more +loudly still. “I slipped on the rock, and the rope fell into the sea!” +So saying he left them, and, rushing down the steep path, gained his own +cottage and locked himself within.</p> + +<p>The remainder of that night he passed lying on his bed—dressed and +motionless—staring upwards, and seeming to see through the darkness a +pale face gleaming wet in the lightning, with its glad recognition +turning to ghastly despair, and to hear a cry which never ceased to echo +in his soul.</p> + +<p>In the morning the storm was over and all was smiling again, except that +the sea was still boisterous with its unspent fury. Great pieces of +wreck drifted into the port, and the sea around the island rock was +strewn with others. Two bodies also drifted into the harbour—one the +master of the wrecked ketch, the other a strange seaman whom no one +knew.</p> + +<p>Sarah saw nothing of Eric till the evening, and then he only looked in +for a minute. He did not come into the house, but simply put his head in +through the open window.</p> + +<p>“Well, Sarah,” he called out in a loud voice, though to her it did not +ring truly, “is the wedding dress done? Sunday week, mind! Sunday week!”</p> + +<p>Sarah was glad to have the reconciliation so easy; but, womanlike, when +she saw the storm was over and her own fears groundless, she at once +repeated the cause of offence.</p> + +<p>“Sunday so be it,” she said without looking up, “if Abel isn’t there on +Saturday!” Then she looked up saucily, though her heart was full of fear +of another outburst on the part of her impetuous lover. But the window +was empty; Eric had taken himself off, and with a pout she resumed her +work. She saw Eric no more till Sunday afternoon, after the banns had +been called the third time, when he came up to her before all the people +with an air of proprietorship which half-pleased and half-annoyed her.</p> + +<p>“Not yet, mister!” she said, pushing him away, as the other girls +giggled. “Wait till Sunday next, if you please—the day after Saturday!” +she added, looking at him saucily. The girls giggled again, and the +young men guffawed. They thought it was the snub that touched him so +that he became as white as a sheet as he turned away. But Sarah, who +knew more than they did, laughed, for she saw triumph through the spasm +of pain that overspread his face.</p> + +<p>The week passed uneventfully; however, as Saturday drew nigh Sarah had +occasional moments of anxiety, and as to Eric he went about at +night-time like a man possessed. He restrained himself when others were +by, but now and again he went down amongst the rocks and caves and +shouted aloud. This seemed to relieve him somewhat, and he was better +able to restrain himself for some time after. All Saturday he stayed in +his own house and never left it. As he was to be married on the morrow, +the neighbours thought it was shyness on his part, and did not trouble +or notice him. Only once was he disturbed, and that was when the chief +boatman came to him and sat down, and after a pause said:</p> + +<p>“Eric, I was over in Bristol yesterday. I was in the ropemaker’s getting +a coil to replace the one you lost the night of the storm, and there I +saw Michael Heavens of this place, who is a salesman there. He told me +that Abel Behenna had come home the week ere last on the <i>Star of the +Sea</i> from Canton, and that he had lodged a sight of money in the Bristol +Bank in the name of Sarah Behenna. He told Michael so himself—and that +he had taken passage on the <i>Lovely Alice</i> to Pencastle. “Bear up, man,” +for Eric had with a groan dropped his head on his knees, with his face +between his hands. “He was your old comrade, I know, but you couldn’t +help him. He must have gone down with the rest that awful night. I +thought I’d better tell you, lest it might come some other way, and you +might keep Sarah Trefusis from being frightened. They were good friends +once, and women take these things to heart. It would not do to let her +be pained with such a thing on her wedding day!” Then he rose and went +away, leaving Eric still sitting disconsolately with his head on his +knees.</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” murmured the chief boatman to himself; “he takes it to +heart. Well, well! right enough! They were true comrades once, and Abel +saved him!”</p> + +<p>The afternoon of that day, when the children had left school, they +strayed as usual on half-holidays along the quay and the paths by the +cliffs. Presently some of them came running in a state of great +excitement to the harbour, where a few men were unloading a coal ketch, +and a great many were superintending the operation. One of the children +called out:</p> + +<p>“There is a porpoise in the harbour mouth! We saw it come through the +blow-hole! It had a long tail, and was deep under the water!”</p> + +<p>“It was no porpoise,” said another; “it was a seal; but it had a long +tail! It came out of the seal cave!” The other children bore various +testimony, but on two points they were unanimous—it, whatever “it” was, +had come through the blow-hole deep under the water, and had a long, +thin tail—a tail so long that they could not see the end of it. There +was much unmerciful chaffing of the children by the men on this point, +but as it was evident that they had seen something, quite a number of +persons, young and old, male and female, went along the high paths on +either side of the harbour mouth to catch a glimpse of this new addition +to the fauna of the sea, a long-tailed porpoise or seal. The tide was +now coming in. There was a slight breeze, and the surface of the water +was rippled so that it was only at moments that anyone could see clearly +into the deep water. After a spell of watching a woman called out that +she saw something moving up the channel, just below where she was +standing. There was a stampede to the spot, but by the time the crowd +had gathered the breeze had freshened, and it was impossible to see with +any distinctness below the surface of the water. On being questioned the +woman described what she had seen, but in such an incoherent way that +the whole thing was put down as an effect of imagination; had it not +been for the children’s report she would not have been credited at all. +Her semi-hysterical statement that what she saw was “like a pig with the +entrails out” was only thought anything of by an old coastguard, who +shook his head but did not make any remark. For the remainder of the +daylight this man was seen always on the bank, looking into the water, +but always with disappointment manifest on his face.</p> + +<p>Eric arose early on the next morning—he had not slept all night, and it +was a relief to him to move about in the light. He shaved himself with a +hand that did not tremble, and dressed himself in his wedding clothes. +There was a haggard look on his face, and he seemed as though he had +grown years older in the last few days. Still there was a wild, uneasy +light of triumph in his eyes, and he kept murmuring to himself over and +over again:</p> + +<p>“This is my wedding-day! Abel cannot claim her now—living or +dead!—living or dead! Living or dead!” He sat in his arm-chair, waiting +with an uncanny quietness for the church hour to arrive. When the bell +began to ring he arose and passed out of his house, closing the door +behind him. He looked at the river and saw the tide had just turned. In +the church he sat with Sarah and her mother, holding Sarah’s hand +tightly in his all the time, as though he feared to lose her. When the +service was over they stood up together, and were married in the +presence of the entire congregation; for no one left the church. Both +made the responses clearly—Eric’s being even on the defiant side. When +the wedding was over Sarah took her husband’s arm, and they walked away +together, the boys and younger girls being cuffed by their elders into a +decorous behaviour, for they would fain have followed close behind their +heels.</p> + +<p>The way from the church led down to the back of Eric’s cottage, a narrow +passage being between it and that of his next neighbour. When the bridal +couple had passed through this the remainder of the congregation, who +had followed them at a little distance, were startled by a long, shrill +scream from the bride. They rushed through the passage and found her on +the bank with wild eyes, pointing to the river bed opposite Eric +Sanson’s door.</p> + +<p>The falling tide had deposited there the body of Abel Behenna stark upon +the broken rocks. The rope trailing from its waist had been twisted by +the current round the mooring post, and had held it back whilst the tide +had ebbed away from it. The right elbow had fallen in a chink in the +rock, leaving the hand outstretched toward Sarah, with the open palm +upward as though it were extended to receive hers, the pale drooping +fingers open to the clasp.</p> + +<p>All that happened afterwards was never quite known to Sarah Sanson. +Whenever she would try to recollect there would become a buzzing in her +ears and a dimness in her eyes, and all would pass away. The only thing +that she could remember of it all—and this she never forgot—was Eric’s +breathing heavily, with his face whiter than that of the dead man, as he +muttered under his breath:</p> + +<p> +“Devil’s help! Devil’s faith! Devil’s price!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>The Burial of the Rats</h2> + +<p> +Leaving Paris by the Orleans road, cross the Enceinte, and, turning to +the right, you find yourself in a somewhat wild and not at all savoury +district. Right and left, before and behind, on every side rise great +heaps of dust and waste accumulated by the process of time.</p> + +<p>Paris has its night as well as its day life, and the sojourner who +enters his hotel in the Rue de Rivoli or the Rue St. Honore late at +night or leaves it early in the morning, can guess, in coming near +Montrouge—if he has not done so already—the purpose of those great +waggons that look like boilers on wheels which he finds halting +everywhere as he passes.</p> + +<p>Every city has its peculiar institutions created out of its own needs; +and one of the most notable institutions of Paris is its rag-picking +population. In the early morning—and Parisian life commences at an +early hour—may be seen in most streets standing on the pathway opposite +every court and alley and between every few houses, as still in some +American cities, even in parts of New York, large wooden boxes into +which the domestics or tenement-holders empty the accumulated dust of +the past day. Round these boxes gather and pass on, when the work is +done, to fresh fields of labour and pastures new, squalid hungry-looking +men and women, the implements of whose craft consist of a coarse bag or +basket slung over the shoulder and a little rake with which they turn +over and probe and examine in the minutest manner the dustbins. They +pick up and deposit in their baskets, by aid of their rakes, whatever +they may find, with the same facility as a Chinaman uses his chopsticks.</p> + +<p>Paris is a city of centralisation—and centralisation and classification +are closely allied. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming +a fact, its forerunner is classification. All things which are similar +or analogous become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups +rises one whole or central point. We see radiating many long arms with +innumerable tentaculae, and in the centre rises a gigantic head with a +comprehensive brain and keen eyes to look on every side and ears +sensitive to hear—and a voracious mouth to swallow.</p> + +<p>Other cities resemble all the birds and beasts and fishes whose +appetites and digestions are normal. Paris alone is the analogical +apotheosis of the octopus. Product of centralisation carried to an <i>ad +absurdum</i>, it fairly represents the devil fish; and in no respects is +the resemblance more curious than in the similarity of the digestive +apparatus.</p> + +<p>Those intelligent tourists who, having surrendered their individuality +into the hands of Messrs. Cook or Gaze, “do” Paris in three days, are +often puzzled to know how it is that the dinner which in London would +cost about six shillings, can be had for three francs in a café in the +Palais Royal. They need have no more wonder if they will but consider +the classification which is a theoretic speciality of Parisian life, and +adopt all round the fact from which the chiffonier has his genesis.</p> + +<p>The Paris of 1850 was not like the Paris of to-day, and those who see +the Paris of Napoleon and Baron Hausseman can hardly realise the +existence of the state of things forty-five years ago.</p> + +<p>Amongst other things, however, which have not changed are those +districts where the waste is gathered. Dust is dust all the world over, +in every age, and the family likeness of dust-heaps is perfect. The +traveller, therefore, who visits the environs of Montrouge can go go +back in fancy without difficulty to the year 1850.</p> + +<p>In this year I was making a prolonged stay in Paris. I was very much in +love with a young lady who, though she returned my passion, so far +yielded to the wishes of her parents that she had promised not to see me +or to correspond with me for a year. I, too, had been compelled to +accede to these conditions under a vague hope of parental approval. +During the term of probation I had promised to remain out of the country +and not to write to my dear one until the expiration of the year.</p> + +<p>Naturally the time went heavily with me. There was not one of my own +family or circle who could tell me of Alice, and none of her own folk +had, I am sorry to say, sufficient generosity to send me even an +occasional word of comfort regarding her health and well-being. I spent +six months wandering about Europe, but as I could find no satisfactory +distraction in travel, I determined to come to Paris, where, at least, I +would be within easy hail of London in case any good fortune should call +me thither before the appointed time. That “hope deferred maketh the +heart sick” was never better exemplified than in my case, for in +addition to the perpetual longing to see the face I loved there was +always with me a harrowing anxiety lest some accident should prevent me +showing Alice in due time that I had, throughout the long period of +probation, been faithful to her trust and my own love. Thus, every +adventure which I undertook had a fierce pleasure of its own, for it was +fraught with possible consequences greater than it would have ordinarily +borne.</p> + +<p>Like all travellers I exhausted the places of most interest in the first +month of my stay, and was driven in the second month to look for +amusement whithersoever I might. Having made sundry journeys to the +better-known suburbs, I began to see that there was a <i>terra incognita</i>, +in so far as the guide book was concerned, in the social wilderness +lying between these attractive points. Accordingly I began to +systematise my researches, and each day took up the thread of my +exploration at the place where I had on the previous day dropped it.</p> + +<p>In the process of time my wanderings led me near Montrouge, and I saw +that hereabouts lay the Ultima Thule of social exploration—a country as +little known as that round the source of the White Nile. And so I +determined to investigate philosophically the chiffonier—his habitat, +his life, and his means of life.</p> + +<p>The job was an unsavoury one, difficult of accomplishment, and with +little hope of adequate reward. However, despite reason, obstinacy +prevailed, and I entered into my new investigation with a keener energy +than I could have summoned to aid me in any investigation leading to any +end, valuable or worthy.</p> + +<p>One day, late in a fine afternoon, toward the end of September, I +entered the holy of holies of the city of dust. The place was evidently +the recognised abode of a number of chiffoniers, for some sort of +arrangement was manifested in the formation of the dust heaps near the +road. I passed amongst these heaps, which stood like orderly sentries, +determined to penetrate further and trace dust to its ultimate location.</p> + +<p>As I passed along I saw behind the dust heaps a few forms that flitted +to and fro, evidently watching with interest the advent of any stranger +to such a place. The district was like a small Switzerland, and as I +went forward my tortuous course shut out the path behind me.</p> + +<p>Presently I got into what seemed a small city or community of +chiffoniers. There were a number of shanties or huts, such as may be met +with in the remote parts of the Bog of Allan—rude places with wattled +walls, plastered with mud and roofs of rude thatch made from stable +refuse—such places as one would not like to enter for any +consideration, and which even in water-colour could only look +picturesque if judiciously treated. In the midst of these huts was one +of the strangest adaptations—I cannot say habitations—I had ever seen. +An immense old wardrobe, the colossal remnant of some boudoir of Charles +VII, or Henry II, had been converted into a dwelling-house. The double +doors lay open, so that the entire ménage was open to public view. In +the open half of the wardrobe was a common sitting-room of some four +feet by six, in which sat, smoking their pipes round a charcoal brazier, +no fewer than six old soldiers of the First Republic, with their +uniforms torn and worn threadbare. Evidently they were of the <i>mauvais +sujet</i> class; their bleary eyes and limp jaws told plainly of a common +love of absinthe; and their eyes had that haggard, worn look of +slumbering ferocity which follows hard in the wake of drink. The other +side stood as of old, with its shelves intact, save that they were cut +to half their depth, and in each shelf of which there were six, was a +bed made with rags and straw. The half-dozen of worthies who inhabited +this structure looked at me curiously as I passed; and when I looked +back after going a little way I saw their heads together in a whispered +conference. I did not like the look of this at all, for the place was +very lonely, and the men looked very, very villainous. However, I did +not see any cause for fear, and went on my way, penetrating further and +further into the Sahara. The way was tortuous to a degree, and from +going round in a series of semi-circles, as one goes in skating with the +Dutch roll, I got rather confused with regard to the points of the +compass.</p> + +<p>When I had penetrated a little way I saw, as I turned the corner of a +half-made heap, sitting on a heap of straw an old soldier with +threadbare coat.</p> + +<p>“Hallo!” said I to myself; “the First Republic is well represented here +in its soldiery.”</p> + +<p>As I passed him the old man never even looked up at me, but gazed on the +ground with stolid persistency. Again I remarked to myself: “See what a +life of rude warfare can do! This old man’s curiosity is a thing of the +past.”</p> + +<p>When I had gone a few steps, however, I looked back suddenly, and saw +that curiosity was not dead, for the veteran had raised his head and was +regarding me with a very queer expression. He seemed to me to look very +like one of the six worthies in the press. When he saw me looking he +dropped his head; and without thinking further of him I went on my way, +satisfied that there was a strange likeness between these old warriors.</p> + +<p>Presently I met another old soldier in a similar manner. He, too, did +not notice me whilst I was passing.</p> + +<p>By this time it was getting late in the afternoon, and I began to think +of retracing my steps. Accordingly I turned to go back, but could see a +number of tracks leading between different mounds and could not +ascertain which of them I should take. In my perplexity I wanted to see +someone of whom to ask the way, but could see no one. I determined to go +on a few mounds further and so try to see someone—not a veteran.</p> + +<p>I gained my object, for after going a couple of hundred yards I saw +before me a single shanty such as I had seen before—with, however, the +difference that this was not one for living in, but merely a roof with +three walls open in front. From the evidences which the neighbourhood +exhibited I took it to be a place for sorting. Within it was an old +woman wrinkled and bent with age; I approached her to ask the way.</p> + +<p>She rose as I came close and I asked her my way. She immediately +commenced a conversation; and it occurred to me that here in the very +centre of the Kingdom of Dust was the place to gather details of the +history of Parisian rag-picking—particularly as I could do so from the +lips of one who looked like the oldest inhabitant.</p> + +<p>I began my inquiries, and the old woman gave me most interesting +answers—she had been one of the ceteuces who sat daily before the +guillotine and had taken an active part among the women who signalised +themselves by their violence in the revolution. While we were talking +she said suddenly: “But m’sieur must be tired standing,” and dusted a +rickety old stool for me to sit down. I hardly liked to do so for many +reasons; but the poor old woman was so civil that I did not like to run +the risk of hurting her by refusing, and moreover the conversation of +one who had been at the taking of the Bastille was so interesting that I +sat down and so our conversation went on.</p> + +<p>While we were talking an old man—older and more bent and wrinkled even +than the woman—appeared from behind the shanty. “Here is Pierre,” said +she. “M’sieur can hear stories now if he wishes, for Pierre was in +everything, from the Bastille to Waterloo.” The old man took another +stool at my request and we plunged into a sea of revolutionary +reminiscences. This old man, albeit clothed like a scarecrow, was like +any one of the six veterans.</p> + +<p>I was now sitting in the centre of the low hut with the woman on my left +hand and the man on my right, each of them being somewhat in front of +me. The place was full of all sorts of curious objects of lumber, and of +many things that I wished far away. In one corner was a heap of rags +which seemed to move from the number of vermin it contained, and in the +other a heap of bones whose odour was something shocking. Every now and +then, glancing at the heaps, I could see the gleaming eyes of some of +the rats which infested the place. These loathsome objects were bad +enough, but what looked even more dreadful was an old butcher’s axe with +an iron handle stained with clots of blood leaning up against the wall +on the right hand side. Still, these things did not give me much +concern. The talk of the two old people was so fascinating that I stayed +on and on, till the evening came and the dust heaps threw dark shadows +over the vales between them.</p> + +<p>After a time I began to grow uneasy. I could not tell how or why, but +somehow I did not feel satisfied. Uneasiness is an instinct and means +warning. The psychic faculties are often the sentries of the intellect, +and when they sound alarm the reason begins to act, although perhaps not +consciously.</p> + +<p>This was so with me. I began to bethink me where I was and by what +surrounded, and to wonder how I should fare in case I should be +attacked; and then the thought suddenly burst upon me, although without +any overt cause, that I was in danger. Prudence whispered: “Be still and +make no sign,” and so I was still and made no sign, for I knew that four +cunning eyes were on me. “Four eyes—if not more.” My God, what a +horrible thought! The whole shanty might be surrounded on three sides +with villains! I might be in the midst of a band of such desperadoes as +only half a century of periodic revolution can produce.</p> + +<p>With a sense of danger my intellect and observation quickened, and I +grew more watchful than was my wont. I noticed that the old woman’s eyes +were constantly wandering towards my hands. I looked at them too, and +saw the cause—my rings. On my left little finger I had a large signet +and on the right a good diamond.</p> + +<p>I thought that if there was any danger my first care was to avert +suspicion. Accordingly I began to work the conversation round to +rag-picking—to the drains—of the things found there; and so by easy +stages to jewels. Then, seizing a favourable opportunity, I asked the +old woman if she knew anything of such things. She answered that she +did, a little. I held out my right hand, and, showing her the diamond, +asked her what she thought of that. She answered that her eyes were bad, +and stooped over my hand. I said as nonchalantly as I could: “Pardon me! +You will see better thus!” and taking it off handed it to her. An unholy +light came into her withered old face, as she touched it. She stole one +glance at me swift and keen as a flash of lightning.</p> + +<p>She bent over the ring for a moment, her face quite concealed as though +examining it. The old man looked straight out of the front of the shanty +before him, at the same time fumbling in his pockets and producing a +screw of tobacco in a paper and a pipe, which he proceeded to fill. I +took advantage of the pause and the momentary rest from the searching +eyes on my face to look carefully round the place, now dim and shadowy +in the gloaming. There still lay all the heaps of varied reeking +foulness; there the terrible blood-stained axe leaning against the wall +in the right hand corner, and everywhere, despite the gloom, the baleful +glitter of the eyes of the rats. I could see them even through some of +the chinks of the boards at the back low down close to the ground. But +stay! these latter eyes seemed more than usually large and bright and +baleful!</p> + +<p>For an instant my heart stood still, and I felt in that whirling +condition of mind in which one feels a sort of spiritual drunkenness, +and as though the body is only maintained erect in that there is no time +for it to fall before recovery. Then, in another second, I was calm—coldly +calm, with all my energies in full vigour, with a self-control +which I felt to be perfect and with all my feeling and instincts alert.</p> + +<p>Now I knew the full extent of my danger: I was watched and surrounded by +desperate people! I could not even guess at how many of them were lying +there on the ground behind the shanty, waiting for the moment to strike. +I knew that I was big and strong, and they knew it, too. They knew also, +as I did, that I was an Englishman and would make a fight for it; and so +we waited. I had, I felt, gained an advantage in the last few seconds, +for I knew my danger and understood the situation. Now, I thought, is +the test of my courage—the enduring test: the fighting test may come +later!</p> + +<p>The old woman raised her head and said to me in a satisfied kind of way:</p> + +<p>“A very fine ring, indeed—a beautiful ring! Oh, me! I once had such +rings, plenty of them, and bracelets and earrings! Oh! for in those fine +days I led the town a dance! But they’ve forgotten me now! They’ve +forgotten me! They? Why they never heard of me! Perhaps their +grandfathers remember me, some of them!” and she laughed a harsh, +croaking laugh. And then I am bound to say that she astonished me, for +she handed me back the ring with a certain suggestion of old-fashioned +grace which was not without its pathos.</p> + +<p>The old man eyed her with a sort of sudden ferocity, half rising from +his stool, and said to me suddenly and hoarsely:</p> + +<p>“Let me see!”</p> + +<p>I was about to hand the ring when the old woman said:</p> + +<p>“No! no, do not give it to Pierre! Pierre is eccentric. He loses things; +and such a pretty ring!”</p> + +<p>“Cat!” said the old man, savagely. Suddenly the old woman said, rather +more loudly than was necessary:</p> + +<p>“Wait! I shall tell you something about a ring.” There was something in +the sound of her voice that jarred upon me. Perhaps it was my +hyper-sensitiveness, wrought up as I was to such a pitch of nervous +excitement, but I seemed to think that she was not addressing me. As I +stole a glance round the place I saw the eyes of the rats in the bone +heaps, but missed the eyes along the back. But even as I looked I saw +them again appear. The old woman’s “Wait!” had given me a respite from +attack, and the men had sunk back to their reclining posture.</p> + +<p>“I once lost a ring—a beautiful diamond hoop that had belonged to a queen, +and which was given to me by a farmer of the taxes, who afterwards cut +his throat because I sent him away. I thought it must have been stolen, +and taxed my people; but I could get no trace. The police came and +suggested that it had found its way to the drain. We descended—I in my +fine clothes, for I would not trust them with my beautiful ring! I know +more of the drains since then, and of rats, too! but I shall never +forget the horror of that place—alive with blazing eyes, a wall of them +just outside the light of our torches. Well, we got beneath my house. We +searched the outlet of the drain, and there in the filth found my ring, +and we came out.</p> + +<p>“But we found something else also before we came! As we were coming +toward the opening a lot of sewer rats—human ones this time—came +towards us. They told the police that one of their number had gone into +the drain, but had not returned. He had gone in only shortly before we +had, and, if lost, could hardly be far off. They asked help to seek him, +so we turned back. They tried to prevent me going, but I insisted. It +was a new excitement, and had I not recovered my ring? Not far did we go +till we came on something. There was but little water, and the bottom of +the drain was raised with brick, rubbish, and much matter of the kind. +He had made a fight for it, even when his torch had gone out. But they +were too many for him! They had not been long about it! The bones were +still warm; but they were picked clean. They had even eaten their own +dead ones and there were bones of rats as well as of the man. They took +it cool enough those other—the human ones—and joked of their comrade +when they found him dead, though they would have helped him living. Bah! +what matters it—life or death?”</p> + +<p>“And had you no fear?” I asked her.</p> + +<p>“Fear!” she said with a laugh. “Me have fear? Ask Pierre! But I was +younger then, and, as I came through that horrible drain with its wall +of greedy eyes, always moving with the circle of the light from the +torches, I did not feel easy. I kept on before the men, though! It is a +way I have! I never let the men get it before me. All I want is a chance +and a means! And they ate him up—took every trace away except the +bones; and no one knew it, nor no sound of him was ever heard!” Here she +broke into a chuckling fit of the ghastliest merriment which it was ever +my lot to hear and see. A great poetess describes her heroine singing: +“Oh! to see or hear her singing! Scarce I know which is the divinest.”</p> + +<p>And I can apply the same idea to the old crone—in all save the +divinity, for I scarce could tell which was the most hellish—the harsh, +malicious, satisfied, cruel laugh, or the leering grin, and the horrible +square opening of the mouth like a tragic mask, and the yellow gleam of +the few discoloured teeth in the shapeless gums. In that laugh and with +that grin and the chuckling satisfaction I knew as well as if it had +been spoken to me in words of thunder that my murder was settled, and +the murderers only bided the proper time for its accomplishment. I could +read between the lines of her gruesome story the commands to her +accomplices. “Wait,” she seemed to say, “bide your time. I shall strike +the first blow. Find the weapon for me, and I shall make the +opportunity! He shall not escape! Keep him quiet, and then no one will +be wiser. There will be no outcry, and the rats will do their work!”</p> + +<p>It was growing darker and darker; the night was coming. I stole a glance +round the shanty, still all the same! The bloody axe in the corner, the +heaps of filth, and the eyes on the bone heaps and in the crannies of +the floor.</p> + +<p>Pierre had been still ostensibly filling his pipe; he now struck a light +and began to puff away at it. The old woman said:</p> + +<p>“Dear heart, how dark it is! Pierre, like a good lad, light the lamp!”</p> + +<p>Pierre got up and with the lighted match in his hand touched the wick of +a lamp which hung at one side of the entrance to the shanty, and which +had a reflector that threw the light all over the place. It was +evidently that which was used for their sorting at night.</p> + +<p>“Not that, stupid! Not that! the lantern!” she called out to him.</p> + +<p>He immediately blew it out, saying: “All right, mother I’ll find it,” +and he hustled about the left corner of the room—the old woman saying +through the darkness:</p> + +<p>“The lantern! the lantern! Oh! That is the light that is most useful to +us poor folks. The lantern was the friend of the revolution! It is the +friend of the chiffonier! It helps us when all else fails.”</p> + +<p>Hardly had she said the word when there was a kind of creaking of the +whole place, and something was steadily dragged over the roof.</p> + +<p>Again I seemed to read between the lines of her words. I knew the lesson +of the lantern.</p> + +<p>“One of you get on the roof with a noose and strangle him as he passes +out if we fail within.”</p> + +<p>As I looked out of the opening I saw the loop of a rope outlined black +against the lurid sky. I was now, indeed, beset!</p> + +<p>Pierre was not long in finding the lantern. I kept my eyes fixed through +the darkness on the old woman. Pierre struck his light, and by its flash +I saw the old woman raise from the ground beside her where it had +mysteriously appeared, and then hide in the folds of her gown, a long +sharp knife or dagger. It seemed to be like a butcher’s sharpening iron +fined to a keen point.</p> + +<p>The lantern was lit.</p> + +<p>“Bring it here, Pierre,” she said. “Place it in the doorway where we can +see it. See how nice it is! It shuts out the darkness from us; it is +just right!”</p> + +<p>Just right for her and her purposes! It threw all its light on my face, +leaving in gloom the faces of both Pierre and the woman, who sat outside +of me on each side.</p> + +<p>I felt that the time of action was approaching, but I knew now that the +first signal and movement would come from the woman, and so watched her.</p> + +<p>I was all unarmed, but I had made up my mind what to do. At the first +movement I would seize the butcher’s axe in the right-hand corner and +fight my way out. At least, I would die hard. I stole a glance round to +fix its exact locality so that I could not fail to seize it at the first +effort, for then, if ever, time and accuracy would be precious.</p> + +<p>Good God! It was gone! All the horror of the situation burst upon me; +but the bitterest thought of all was that if the issue of the terrible +position should be against me Alice would infallibly suffer. Either she +would believe me false—and any lover, or any one who has ever been one, +can imagine the bitterness of the thought—or else she would go on +loving long after I had been lost to her and to the world, so that her +life would be broken and embittered, shattered with disappointment and +despair. The very magnitude of the pain braced me up and nerved me to +bear the dread scrutiny of the plotters.</p> + +<p>I think I did not betray myself. The old woman was watching me as a cat +does a mouse; she had her right hand hidden in the folds of her gown, +clutching, I knew, that long, cruel-looking dagger. Had she seen any +disappointment in my face she would, I felt, have known that the moment +had come, and would have sprung on me like a tigress, certain of taking +me unprepared.</p> + +<p>I looked out into the night, and there I saw new cause for danger. +Before and around the hut were at a little distance some shadowy forms; +they were quite still, but I knew that they were all alert and on guard. +Small chance for me now in that direction.</p> + +<p>Again I stole a glance round the place. In moments of great excitement +and of great danger, which is excitement, the mind works very quickly, +and the keenness of the faculties which depend on the mind grows in +proportion. I now felt this. In an instant I took in the whole +situation. I saw that the axe had been taken through a small hole made +in one of the rotten boards. How rotten they must be to allow of such a +thing being done without a particle of noise.</p> + +<p>The hut was a regular murder-trap, and was guarded all around. A +garroter lay on the roof ready to entangle me with his noose if I should +escape the dagger of the old hag. In front the way was guarded by I know +not how many watchers. And at the back was a row of desperate men—I had +seen their eyes still through the crack in the boards of the floor, when +last I looked—as they lay prone waiting for the signal to start erect. +If it was to be ever, now for it!</p> + +<p>As nonchalantly as I could I turned slightly on my stool so as to get my +right leg well under me. Then with a sudden jump, turning my head, and +guarding it with my hands, and with the fighting instinct of the knights +of old, I breathed my lady’s name, and hurled myself against the back +wall of the hut.</p> + +<p>Watchful as they were, the suddenness of my movement surprised both +Pierre and the old woman. As I crashed through the rotten timbers I saw +the old woman rise with a leap like a tiger and heard her low gasp of +baffled rage. My feet lit on something that moved, and as I jumped away +I knew that I had stepped on the back of one of the row of men lying on +their faces outside the hut. I was torn with nails and splinters, but +otherwise unhurt. Breathless I rushed up the mound in front of me, +hearing as I went the dull crash of the shanty as it collapsed into a +mass.</p> + +<p>It was a nightmare climb. The mound, though but low, was awfully steep, +and with each step I took the mass of dust and cinders tore down with me +and gave way under my feet. The dust rose and choked me; it was +sickening, fœtid, awful; but my climb was, I felt, for life or death, +and I struggled on. The seconds seemed hours; but the few moments I had +in starting, combined with my youth and strength, gave me a great +advantage, and, though several forms struggled after me in deadly +silence which was more dreadful than any sound, I easily reached the +top. Since then I have climbed the cone of Vesuvius, and as I struggled +up that dreary steep amid the sulphurous fumes the memory of that awful +night at Montrouge came back to me so vividly that I almost grew faint.</p> + +<p>The mound was one of the tallest in the region of dust, and as I +struggled to the top, panting for breath and with my heart beating like +a sledge-hammer, I saw away to my left the dull red gleam of the sky, +and nearer still the flashing of lights. Thank God! I knew where I was +now and where lay the road to Paris!</p> + +<p>For two or three seconds I paused and looked back. My pursuers were +still well behind me, but struggling up resolutely, and in deadly +silence. Beyond, the shanty was a wreck—a mass of timber and moving +forms. I could see it well, for flames were already bursting out; the +rags and straw had evidently caught fire from the lantern. Still silence +there! Not a sound! These old wretches could die game, anyhow.</p> + +<p>I had no time for more than a passing glance, for as I cast an eye round +the mound preparatory to making my descent I saw several dark forms +rushing round on either side to cut me off on my way. It was now a race +for life. They were trying to head me on my way to Paris, and with the +instinct of the moment I dashed down to the right-hand side. I was just +in time, for, though I came as it seemed to me down the steep in a few +steps, the wary old men who were watching me turned back, and one, as I +rushed by into the opening between the two mounds in front, almost +struck me a blow with that terrible butcher’s axe. There could surely +not be two such weapons about!</p> + +<p>Then began a really horrible chase. I easily ran ahead of the old men, +and even when some younger ones and a few women joined in the hunt I +easily distanced them. But I did not know the way, and I could not even +guide myself by the light in the sky, for I was running away from it. I +had heard that, unless of conscious purpose, hunted men turn always to +the left, and so I found it now; and so, I suppose, knew also my +pursuers, who were more animals than men, and with cunning or instinct +had found out such secrets for themselves: for on finishing a quick +spurt, after which I intended to take a moment’s breathing space, I +suddenly saw ahead of me two or three forms swiftly passing behind a +mound to the right.</p> + +<p>I was in the spider’s web now indeed! But with the thought of this new +danger came the resource of the hunted, and so I darted down the next +turning to the right. I continued in this direction for some hundred +yards, and then, making a turn to the left again, felt certain that I +had, at any rate, avoided the danger of being surrounded.</p> + +<p>But not of pursuit, for on came the rabble after me, steady, dogged, +relentless, and still in grim silence.</p> + +<p>In the greater darkness the mounds seemed now to be somewhat smaller +than before, although—for the night was closing—they looked bigger in +proportion. I was now well ahead of my pursuers, so I made a dart up the +mound in front.</p> + +<p>Oh joy of joys! I was close to the edge of this inferno of dustheaps. +Away behind me the red light of Paris was in the sky, and towering up +behind rose the heights of Montmarte—a dim light, with here and there +brilliant points like stars.</p> + +<p>Restored to vigour in a moment, I ran over the few remaining mounds of +decreasing size, and found myself on the level land beyond. Even then, +however, the prospect was not inviting. All before me was dark and +dismal, and I had evidently come on one of those dank, low-lying waste +places which are found here and there in the neighbourhood of great +cities. Places of waste and desolation, where the space is required for +the ultimate agglomeration of all that is noxious, and the ground is so +poor as to create no desire of occupancy even in the lowest squatter. +With eyes accustomed to the gloom of the evening, and away now from the +shadows of those dreadful dustheaps, I could see much more easily than I +could a little while ago. It might have been, of course, that the glare +in the sky of the lights of Paris, though the city was some miles away, +was reflected here. Howsoever it was, I saw well enough to take bearings +for certainly some little distance around me.</p> + +<p>In front was a bleak, flat waste that seemed almost dead level, with +here and there the dark shimmering of stagnant pools. Seemingly far off +on the right, amid a small cluster of scattered lights, rose a dark mass +of Fort Montrouge, and away to the left in the dim distance, pointed +with stray gleams from cottage windows, the lights in the sky showed the +locality of Bicêtre. A moment’s thought decided me to take to the right +and try to reach Montrouge. There at least would be some sort of safety, +and I might possibly long before come on some of the cross roads which I +knew. Somewhere, not far off, must lie the strategic road made to +connect the outlying chain of forts circling the city.</p> + +<p>Then I looked back. Coming over the mounds, and outlined black against +the glare of the Parisian horizon, I saw several moving figures, and +still a way to the right several more deploying out between me and my +destination. They evidently meant to cut me off in this direction, and +so my choice became constricted; it lay now between going straight ahead +or turning to the left. Stooping to the ground, so as to get the +advantage of the horizon as a line of sight, I looked carefully in this +direction, but could detect no sign of my enemies. I argued that as they +had not guarded or were not trying to guard that point, there was +evidently danger to me there already. So I made up my mind to go +straight on before me.</p> + +<p>It was not an inviting prospect, and as I went on the reality grew +worse. The ground became soft and oozy, and now and again gave way +beneath me in a sickening kind of way. I seemed somehow to be going +down, for I saw round me places seemingly more elevated than where I +was, and this in a place which from a little way back seemed dead level. +I looked around, but could see none of my pursuers. This was strange, +for all along these birds of the night had followed me through the +darkness as well as though it was broad daylight. How I blamed myself +for coming out in my light-coloured tourist suit of tweed. The silence, +and my not being able to see my enemies, whilst I felt that they were +watching me, grew appalling, and in the hope of some one not of this +ghastly crew hearing me I raised my voice and shouted several times. +There was not the slightest response; not even an echo rewarded my +efforts. For a while I stood stock still and kept my eyes in one +direction. On one of the rising places around me I saw something dark +move along, then another, and another. This was to my left, and +seemingly moving to head me off.</p> + +<p>I thought that again I might with my skill as a runner elude my enemies +at this game, and so with all my speed darted forward.</p> + +<p>Splash!</p> + +<p>My feet had given way in a mass of slimy rubbish, and I had fallen +headlong into a reeking, stagnant pool. The water and the mud in which +my arms sank up to the elbows was filthy and nauseous beyond +description, and in the suddenness of my fall I had actually swallowed +some of the filthy stuff, which nearly choked me, and made me gasp for +breath. Never shall I forget the moments during which I stood trying to +recover myself almost fainting from the fœtid odour of the filthy pool, +whose white mist rose ghostlike around. Worst of all, with the acute +despair of the hunted animal when he sees the pursuing pack closing on +him, I saw before my eyes whilst I stood helpless the dark forms of my +pursuers moving swiftly to surround me.</p> + +<p>It is curious how our minds work on odd matters even when the energies +of thought are seemingly concentrated on some terrible and pressing +need. I was in momentary peril of my life: my safety depended on my +action, and my choice of alternatives coming now with almost every step +I took, and yet I could not but think of the strange dogged persistency +of these old men. Their silent resolution, their steadfast, grim, +persistency even in such a cause commanded, as well as fear, even a +measure of respect. What must they have been in the vigour of their +youth. I could understand now that whirlwind rush on the bridge of +Arcola, that scornful exclamation of the Old Guard at Waterloo! +Unconscious cerebration has its own pleasures, even at such moments; but +fortunately it does not in any way clash with the thought from which +action springs.</p> + +<p>I realised at a glance that so far I was defeated in my object, my +enemies as yet had won. They had succeeded in surrounding me on three +sides, and were bent on driving me off to the left-hand, where there was +already some danger for me, for they had left no guard. I accepted the +alternative—it was a case of Hobson’s choice and run. I had to keep the +lower ground, for my pursuers were on the higher places. However, though +the ooze and broken ground impeded me my youth and training made me able +to hold my ground, and by keeping a diagonal line I not only kept them +from gaining on me but even began to distance them. This gave me new +heart and strength, and by this time habitual training was beginning to +tell and my second wind had come. Before me the ground rose slightly. I +rushed up the slope and found before me a waste of watery slime, with a +low dyke or bank looking black and grim beyond. I felt that if I could +but reach that dyke in safety I could there, with solid ground under my +feet and some kind of path to guide me, find with comparative ease a way +out of my troubles. After a glance right and left and seeing no one +near, I kept my eyes for a few minutes to their rightful work of aiding +my feet whilst I crossed the swamp. It was rough, hard work, but there +was little danger, merely toil; and a short time took me to the dyke. I +rushed up the slope exulting; but here again I met a new shock. On +either side of me rose a number of crouching figures. From right and +left they rushed at me. Each body held a rope.</p> + +<p>The cordon was nearly complete. I could pass on neither side, and the +end was near.</p> + +<p>There was only one chance, and I took it. I hurled myself across the +dyke, and escaping out of the very clutches of my foes threw myself into +the stream.</p> + +<p>At any other time I should have thought that water foul and filthy, but +now it was as welcome as the most crystal stream to the parched +traveller. It was a highway of safety!</p> + +<p>My pursuers rushed after me. Had only one of them held the rope it would +have been all up with me, for he could have entangled me before I had +time to swim a stroke; but the many hands holding it embarrassed and +delayed them, and when the rope struck the water I heard the splash well +behind me. A few minutes’ hard swimming took me across the stream. +Refreshed with the immersion and encouraged by the escape, I climbed the +dyke in comparative gaiety of spirits.</p> + +<p>From the top I looked back. Through the darkness I saw my assailants +scattering up and down along the dyke. The pursuit was evidently not +ended, and again I had to choose my course. Beyond the dyke where I +stood was a wild, swampy space very similar to that which I had crossed. +I determined to shun such a place, and thought for a moment whether I +would take up or down the dyke. I thought I heard a sound—the muffled +sound of oars, so I listened, and then shouted.</p> + +<p>No response; but the sound ceased. My enemies had evidently got a boat +of some kind. As they were on the up side of me I took the down path and +began to run. As I passed to the left of where I had entered the water I +heard several splashes, soft and stealthy, like the sound a rat makes as +he plunges into the stream, but vastly greater; and as I looked I saw +the dark sheen of the water broken by the ripples of several advancing +heads. Some of my enemies were swimming the stream also.</p> + +<p>And now behind me, up the stream, the silence was broken by the quick +rattle and creak of oars; my enemies were in hot pursuit. I put my best +leg foremost and ran on. After a break of a couple of minutes I looked +back, and by a gleam of light through the ragged clouds I saw several +dark forms climbing the bank behind me. The wind had now begun to rise, +and the water beside me was ruffled and beginning to break in tiny waves +on the bank. I had to keep my eyes pretty well on the ground before me, +lest I should stumble, for I knew that to stumble was death. After a few +minutes I looked back behind me. On the dyke were only a few dark +figures, but crossing the waste, swampy ground were many more. What new +danger this portended I did not know—could only guess. Then as I ran it +seemed to me that my track kept ever sloping away to the right. I looked +up ahead and saw that the river was much wider than before, and that the +dyke on which I stood fell quite away, and beyond it was another stream +on whose near bank I saw some of the dark forms now across the marsh. I +was on an island of some kind.</p> + +<p>My situation was now indeed terrible, for my enemies had hemmed me in on +every side. Behind came the quickening roll of the oars, as though my +pursuers knew that the end was close. Around me on every side was +desolation; there was not a roof or light, as far as I could see. Far +off to the right rose some dark mass, but what it was I knew not. For a +moment I paused to think what I should do, not for more, for my pursuers +were drawing closer. Then my mind was made up. I slipped down the bank +and took to the water. I struck out straight ahead so as to gain the +current by clearing the backwater of the island, for such I presume it +was, when I had passed into the stream. I waited till a cloud came +driving across the moon and leaving all in darkness. Then I took off my +hat and laid it softly on the water floating with the stream, and a +second after dived to the right and struck out under water with all my +might. I was, I suppose, half a minute under water, and when I rose came +up as softly as I could, and turning, looked back. There went my light +brown hat floating merrily away. Close behind it came a rickety old +boat, driven furiously by a pair of oars. The moon was still partly +obscured by the drifting clouds, but in the partial light I could see a +man in the bows holding aloft ready to strike what appeared to me to be +that same dreadful pole-axe which I had before escaped. As I looked the +boat drew closer, closer, and the man struck savagely. The hat +disappeared. The man fell forward, almost out of the boat. His comrades +dragged him in but without the axe, and then as I turned with all my +energies bent on reaching the further bank, I heard the fierce whirr of +the muttered “Sacre!” which marked the anger of my baffled pursuers.</p> + +<p>That was the first sound I had heard from human lips during all this +dreadful chase, and full as it was of menace and danger to me it was a +welcome sound for it broke that awful silence which shrouded and +appalled me. It was as though an overt sign that my opponents were men +and not ghosts, and that with them I had, at least, the chance of a man, +though but one against many.</p> + +<p>But now that the spell of silence was broken the sounds came thick and +fast. From boat to shore and back from shore to boat came quick question +and answer, all in the fiercest whispers. I looked back—a fatal thing +to do—for in the instant someone caught sight of my face, which showed +white on the dark water, and shouted. Hands pointed to me, and in a +moment or two the boat was under weigh, and following hard after me. I +had but a little way to go, but quicker and quicker came the boat after +me. A few more strokes and I would be on the shore, but I felt the +oncoming of the boat, and expected each second to feel the crash of an +oar or other weapon on my head. Had I not seen that dreadful axe +disappear in the water I do not think that I could have won the shore. I +heard the muttered curses of those not rowing and the laboured breath of +the rowers. With one supreme effort for life or liberty I touched the +bank and sprang up it. There was not a single second to spare, for hard +behind me the boat grounded and several dark forms sprang after me. I +gained the top of the dyke, and keeping to the left ran on again. The +boat put off and followed down the stream. Seeing this I feared danger +in this direction, and quickly turning, ran down the dyke on the other +side, and after passing a short stretch of marshy ground gained a wild, +open flat country and sped on.</p> + +<p>Still behind me came on my relentless pursuers. Far away, below me, I +saw the same dark mass as before, but now grown closer and greater. My +heart gave a great thrill of delight, for I knew that it must be the +fortress of Bicêtre, and with new courage I ran on. I had heard that +between each and all of the protecting forts of Paris there are +strategic ways, deep sunk roads where soldiers marching should be +sheltered from an enemy. I knew that if I could gain this road I would +be safe, but in the darkness I could not see any sign of it, so, in +blind hope of striking it, I ran on.</p> + +<p>Presently I came to the edge of a deep cut, and found that down below me +ran a road guarded on each side by a ditch of water fenced on either +side by a straight, high wall.</p> + +<p>Getting fainter and dizzier, I ran on; the ground got more broken—more +and more still, till I staggered and fell, and rose again, and ran on in +the blind anguish of the hunted. Again the thought of Alice nerved me. I +would not be lost and wreck her life: I would fight and struggle for +life to the bitter end. With a great effort I caught the top of the +wall. As, scrambling like a catamount, I drew myself up, I actually felt +a hand touch the sole of my foot. I was now on a sort of causeway, and +before me I saw a dim light. Blind and dizzy, I ran on, staggered, and +fell, rising, covered with dust and blood.</p> + +<p>“Halt la!”</p> + +<p>The words sounded like a voice from heaven. A blaze of light seemed to +enwrap me, and I shouted with joy.</p> + +<p>“Qui va la?” The rattle of musketry, the flash of steel before my eyes. +Instinctively I stopped, though close behind me came a rush of my +pursuers.</p> + +<p>Another word or two, and out from a gateway poured, as it seemed to me, +a tide of red and blue, as the guard turned out. All around seemed +blazing with light, and the flash of steel, the clink and rattle of +arms, and the loud, harsh voices of command. As I fell forward, utterly +exhausted, a soldier caught me. I looked back in dreadful expectation, +and saw the mass of dark forms disappearing into the night. Then I must +have fainted. When I recovered my senses I was in the guard room. They +gave me brandy, and after a while I was able to tell them something of +what had passed. Then a commissary of police appeared, apparently out of +the empty air, as is the way of the Parisian police officer. He listened +attentively, and then had a moment’s consultation with the officer in +command. Apparently they were agreed, for they asked me if I were ready +now to come with them.</p> + +<p>“Where to?” I asked, rising to go.</p> + +<p>“Back to the dust heaps. We shall, perhaps, catch them yet!”</p> + +<p>“I shall try!” said I.</p> + +<p>He eyed me for a moment keenly, and said suddenly:</p> + +<p>“Would you like to wait a while or till tomorrow, young Englishman?” +This touched me to the quick, as, perhaps, he intended, and I jumped to +my feet.</p> + +<p>“Come now!” I said; “now! now! An Englishman is always ready for his +duty!”</p> + +<p>The commissary was a good fellow, as well as a shrewd one; he slapped my +shoulder kindly. “Brave garçon!” he said. “Forgive me, but I knew what +would do you most good. The guard is ready. Come!”</p> + +<p>And so, passing right through the guard room, and through a long vaulted +passage, we were out into the night. A few of the men in front had +powerful lanterns. Through courtyards and down a sloping way we passed +out through a low archway to a sunken road, the same that I had seen in +my flight. The order was given to get at the double, and with a quick, +springing stride, half run, half walk, the soldiers went swiftly along. +I felt my strength renewed again—such is the difference between hunter +and hunted. A very short distance took us to a low-lying pontoon bridge +across the stream, and evidently very little higher up than I had struck +it. Some effort had evidently been made to damage it, for the ropes had +all been cut, and one of the chains had been broken. I heard the officer +say to the commissary:</p> + +<p>“We are just in time! A few more minutes, and they would have destroyed +the bridge. Forward, quicker still!” and on we went. Again we reached a +pontoon on the winding stream; as we came up we heard the hollow boom of +the metal drums as the efforts to destroy the bridge was again renewed. +A word of command was given, and several men raised their rifles.</p> + +<p>“Fire!” A volley rang out. There was a muffled cry, and the dark forms +dispersed. But the evil was done, and we saw the far end of the pontoon +swing into the stream. This was a serious delay, and it was nearly an +hour before we had renewed ropes and restored the bridge sufficiently to +allow us to cross.</p> + +<p>We renewed the chase. Quicker, quicker we went towards the dust heaps.</p> + +<p>After a time we came to a place that I knew. There were the remains of a +fire—a few smouldering wood ashes still cast a red glow, but the bulk +of the ashes were cold. I knew the site of the hut and the hill behind +it up which I had rushed, and in the flickering glow the eyes of the +rats still shone with a sort of phosphorescence. The commissary spoke a +word to the officer, and he cried:</p> + +<p>“Halt!”</p> + +<p>The soldiers were ordered to spread around and watch, and then we +commenced to examine the ruins. The commissary himself began to lift +away the charred boards and rubbish. These the soldiers took and piled +together. Presently he started back, then bent down and rising beckoned +me.</p> + +<p>“See!” he said.</p> + +<p>It was a gruesome sight. There lay a skeleton face downwards, a woman by +the lines—an old woman by the coarse fibre of the bone. Between the +ribs rose a long spike-like dagger made from a butcher’s sharpening +knife, its keen point buried in the spine.</p> + +<p>“You will observe,” said the commissary to the officer and to me as he +took out his note book, “that the woman must have fallen on her dagger. +The rats are many here—see their eyes glistening among that heap of +bones—and you will also notice”—I shuddered as he placed his hand on +the skeleton—“that but little time was lost by them, for the bones are +scarcely cold!”</p> + +<p>There was no other sign of any one near, living or dead; and so +deploying again into line the soldiers passed on. Presently we came to +the hut made of the old wardrobe. We approached. In five of the six +compartments was an old man sleeping—sleeping so soundly that even the +glare of the lanterns did not wake them. Old and grim and grizzled they +looked, with their gaunt, wrinkled, bronzed faces and their white +moustaches.</p> + +<p>The officer called out harshly and loudly a word of command, and in an +instant each one of them was on his feet before us and standing at +“attention!”</p> + +<p>“What do you here?”</p> + +<p>“We sleep,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Where are the other chiffoniers?” asked the commissary.</p> + +<p>“Gone to work.”</p> + +<p>“And you?”</p> + +<p>“We are on guard!”</p> + +<p>“Peste!” laughed the officer grimly, as he looked at the old men one +after the other in the face and added with cool deliberate cruelty: +“Asleep on duty! Is this the manner of the Old Guard? No wonder, then, a +Waterloo!”</p> + +<p>By the gleam of the lantern I saw the grim old faces grow deadly pale, +and almost shuddered at the look in the eyes of the old men as the laugh +of the soldiers echoed the grim pleasantry of the officer.</p> + +<p>I felt in that moment that I was in some measure avenged.</p> + +<p>For a moment they looked as if they would throw themselves on the +taunter, but years of their life had schooled them and they remained +still.</p> + +<p>“You are but five,” said the commissary; “where is the sixth?” The +answer came with a grim chuckle.</p> + +<p>“He is there!” and the speaker pointed to the bottom of the wardrobe. +“He died last night. You won’t find much of him. The burial of the rats +is quick!”</p> + +<p>The commissary stooped and looked in. Then he turned to the officer and +said calmly:</p> + +<p>“We may as well go back. No trace here now; nothing to prove that man +was the one wounded by your soldiers’ bullets! Probably they murdered +him to cover up the trace. See!” again he stooped and placed his hands +on the skeleton. “The rats work quickly and they are many. These bones +are warm!”</p> + +<p>I shuddered, and so did many more of those around me.</p> + +<p>“Form!” said the officer, and so in marching order, with the lanterns +swinging in front and the manacled veterans in the midst, with steady +tramp we took ourselves out of the dustheaps and turned backward to the +fortress of Bicêtre.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>My year of probation has long since ended, and Alice is my wife. But +when I look back upon that trying twelvemonth one of the most vivid +incidents that memory recalls is that associated with my visit to the +City of Dust. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>A Dream of Red Hands</h2> + +<p> +The first opinion given to me regarding Jacob Settle was a simple +descriptive statement, “He’s a down-in-the-mouth chap”: but I found that +it embodied the thoughts and ideas of all his fellow-workmen. There was +in the phrase a certain easy tolerance, an absence of positive feeling +of any kind, rather than any complete opinion, which marked pretty +accurately the man’s place in public esteem. Still, there was some +dissimilarity between this and his appearance which unconsciously set me +thinking, and by degrees, as I saw more of the place and the workmen, I +came to have a special interest in him. He was, I found, for ever doing +kindnesses, not involving money expenses beyond his humble means, but in +the manifold ways of forethought and forbearance and self-repression +which are of the truer charities of life. Women and children trusted him +implicitly, though, strangely enough, he rather shunned them, except +when anyone was sick, and then he made his appearance to help if he +could, timidly and awkwardly. He led a very solitary life, keeping house +by himself in a tiny cottage, or rather hut, of one room, far on the +edge of the moorland. His existence seemed so sad and solitary that I +wished to cheer it up, and for the purpose took the occasion when we had +both been sitting up with a child, injured by me through accident, to +offer to lend him books. He gladly accepted, and as we parted in the +grey of the dawn I felt that something of mutual confidence had been +established between us.</p> + +<p>The books were always most carefully and punctually returned, and in +time Jacob Settle and I became quite friends. Once or twice as I crossed +the moorland on Sundays I looked in on him; but on such occasions he was +shy and ill at ease so that I felt diffident about calling to see him. +He would never under any circumstances come into my own lodgings.</p> + +<p>One Sunday afternoon, I was coming back from a long walk beyond the +moor, and as I passed Settle’s cottage stopped at the door to say “How +do you do?” to him. As the door was shut, I thought that he was out, and +merely knocked for form’s sake, or through habit, not expecting to get +any answer. To my surprise, I heard a feeble voice from within, though +what was said I could not hear. I entered at once, and found Jacob lying +half-dressed upon his bed. He was as pale as death, and the sweat was +simply rolling off his face. His hands were unconsciously gripping the +bedclothes as a drowning man holds on to whatever he may grasp. As I +came in he half arose, with a wild, hunted look in his eyes, which were +wide open and staring, as though something of horror had come before +him; but when he recognised me he sank back on the couch with a +smothered sob of relief and closed his eyes. I stood by him for a while, +quite a minute or two, while he gasped. Then he opened his eyes and +looked at me, but with such a despairing, woeful expression that, as I +am a living man, I would have rather seen that frozen look of horror. I +sat down beside him and asked after his health. For a while he would not +answer me except to say that he was not ill; but then, after +scrutinising me closely, he half arose on his elbow and said:</p> + +<p>“I thank you kindly, sir, but I’m simply telling you the truth. I am not +ill, as men call it, though God knows whether there be not worse +sicknesses than doctors know of. I’ll tell you, as you are so kind, but +I trust that you won’t even mention such a thing to a living soul, for +it might work me more and greater woe. I am suffering from a bad dream.”</p> + +<p>“A bad dream!” I said, hoping to cheer him; “but dreams pass away with +the light—even with waking.” There I stopped, for before he spoke I saw +the answer in his desolate look round the little place.</p> + +<p>“No! no! that’s all well for people that live in comfort and with those +they love around them. It is a thousand times worse for those who live +alone and have to do so. What cheer is there for me, waking here in the +silence of the night, with the wide moor around me full of voices and +full of faces that make my waking a worse dream than my sleep? Ah, young +sir, you have no past that can send its legions to people the darkness +and the empty space, and I pray the good God that you may never have!” +As he spoke, there was such an almost irresistible gravity of conviction +in his manner that I abandoned my remonstrance about his solitary life. +I felt that I was in the presence of some secret influence which I could +not fathom. To my relief, for I knew not what to say, he went on:</p> + +<p>“Two nights past have I dreamed it. It was hard enough the first night, +but I came through it. Last night the expectation was in itself almost +worse than the dream—until the dream came, and then it swept away every +remembrance of lesser pain. I stayed awake till just before the dawn, +and then it came again, and ever since I have been in such an agony as I +am sure the dying feel, and with it all the dread of tonight.” Before he +had got to the end of the sentence my mind was made up, and I felt that +I could speak to him more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Try and get to sleep early tonight—in fact, before the evening has +passed away. The sleep will refresh you, and I promise you there will +not be any bad dreams after tonight.” He shook his head hopelessly, so I +sat a little longer and then left him.</p> + +<p>When I got home I made my arrangements for the night, for I had made up +my mind to share Jacob Settle’s lonely vigil in his cottage on the moor. +I judged that if he got to sleep before sunset he would wake well before +midnight, and so, just as the bells of the city were striking eleven, I +stood opposite his door armed with a bag, in which were my supper, an +extra large flask, a couple of candles, and a book. The moonlight was +bright, and flooded the whole moor, till it was almost as light as day; +but ever and anon black clouds drove across the sky, and made a darkness +which by comparison seemed almost tangible. I opened the door softly, +and entered without waking Jacob, who lay asleep with his white face +upward. He was still, and again bathed in sweat. I tried to imagine what +visions were passing before those closed eyes which could bring with +them the misery and woe which were stamped on the face, but fancy failed +me, and I waited for the awakening. It came suddenly, and in a fashion +which touched me to the quick, for the hollow groan that broke from the +man’s white lips as he half arose and sank back was manifestly the +realisation or completion of some train of thought which had gone +before.</p> + +<p>“If this be dreaming,” said I to myself, “then it must be based on some +very terrible reality. What can have been that unhappy fact that he +spoke of?”</p> + +<p>While I thus spoke, he realised that I was with him. It struck me as +strange that he had no period of that doubt as to whether dream or +reality surrounded him which commonly marks an expected environment of +waking men. With a positive cry of joy, he seized my hand and held it in +his two wet, trembling hands, as a frightened child clings on to someone +whom it loves. I tried to soothe him:</p> + +<p>“There, there! it is all right. I have come to stay with you tonight, +and together we will try to fight this evil dream.” He let go my hand +suddenly, and sank back on his bed and covered his eyes with his hands.</p> + +<p>“Fight it?—the evil dream! Ah! no, sir, no! No mortal power can fight +that dream, for it comes from God—and is burned in here;” and he beat +upon his forehead. Then he went on:</p> + +<p>“It is the same dream, ever the same, and yet it grows in its power to +torture me every time it comes.”</p> + +<p>“What is the dream?” I asked, thinking that the speaking of it might +give him some relief, but he shrank away from me, and after a long pause +said:</p> + +<p>“No, I had better not tell it. It may not come again.”</p> + +<p>There was manifestly something to conceal from me—something that lay +behind the dream, so I answered:</p> + +<p>“All right. I hope you have seen the last of it. But if it should come +again, you will tell me, will you not? I ask, not out of curiosity, but +because I think it may relieve you to speak.” He answered with what I +thought was almost an undue amount of solemnity:</p> + +<p>“If it comes again, I shall tell you all.”</p> + +<p>Then I tried to get his mind away from the subject to more mundane +things, so I produced supper, and made him share it with me, including +the contents of the flask. After a little he braced up, and when I lit +my cigar, having given him another, we smoked a full hour, and talked of +many things. Little by little the comfort of his body stole over his +mind, and I could see sleep laying her gentle hands on his eyelids. He +felt it, too, and told me that now he felt all right, and I might safely +leave him; but I told him that, right or wrong, I was going to see in +the daylight. So I lit my other candle, and began to read as he fell +asleep.</p> + +<p>By degrees I got interested in my book, so interested that presently I +was startled by its dropping out of my hands. I looked and saw that +Jacob was still asleep, and I was rejoiced to see that there was on his +face a look of unwonted happiness, while his lips seemed to move with +unspoken words. Then I turned to my work again, and again woke, but this +time to feel chilled to my very marrow by hearing the voice from the bed +beside me:</p> + +<p>“Not with those red hands! Never! never!” On looking at him, I found +that he was still asleep. He woke, however, in an instant, and did not +seem surprised to see me; there was again that strange apathy as to his +surroundings. Then I said:</p> + +<p>“Settle, tell me your dream. You may speak freely, for I shall hold your +confidence sacred. While we both live I shall never mention what you may +choose to tell me.”</p> + +<p>He replied:</p> + +<p>“I said I would; but I had better tell you first what goes before the +dream, that you may understand. I was a schoolmaster when I was a very +young man; it was only a parish school in a little village in the West +Country. No need to mention any names. Better not. I was engaged to be +married to a young girl whom I loved and almost reverenced. It was the +old story. While we were waiting for the time when we could afford to +set up house together, another man came along. He was nearly as young as +I was, and handsome, and a gentleman, with all a gentleman’s attractive +ways for a woman of our class. He would go fishing, and she would meet +him while I was at my work in school. I reasoned with her and implored +her to give him up. I offered to get married at once and go away and +begin the world in a strange country; but she would not listen to +anything I could say, and I could see that she was infatuated with him. +Then I took it on myself to meet the man and ask him to deal well with +the girl, for I thought he might mean honestly by her, so that there +might be no talk or chance of talk on the part of others. I went where I +should meet him with none by, and we met!” Here Jacob Settle had to +pause, for something seemed to rise in his throat, and he almost gasped +for breath. Then he went on:</p> + +<p>“Sir, as God is above us, there was no selfish thought in my heart that +day, I loved my pretty Mabel too well to be content with a part of her +love, and I had thought of my own unhappiness too often not to have come +to realise that, whatever might come to her, my hope was gone. He was +insolent to me—you, sir, who are a gentleman, cannot know, perhaps, how +galling can be the insolence of one who is above you in station—but I +bore with that. I implored him to deal well with the girl, for what +might be only a pastime of an idle hour with him might be the breaking +of her heart. For I never had a thought of her truth, or that the worst +of harm could come to her—it was only the unhappiness to her heart I feared. +But when I asked him when he intended to marry her his laughter galled +me so that I lost my temper and told him that I would not stand by and +see her life made unhappy. Then he grew angry too, and in his anger said +such cruel things of her that then and there I swore he should not live +to do her harm. God knows how it came about, for in such moments of +passion it is hard to remember the steps from a word to a blow, but I +found myself standing over his dead body, with my hands crimson with the +blood that welled from his torn throat. We were alone and he was a +stranger, with none of his kin to seek for him and murder does not +always out—not all at once. His bones may be whitening still, for all I +know, in the pool of the river where I left him. No one suspected his +absence, or why it was, except my poor Mabel, and she dared not speak. +But it was all in vain, for when I came back again after an absence of +months—for I could not live in the place—I learned that her shame had +come and that she had died in it. Hitherto I had been borne up by the +thought that my ill deed had saved her future, but now, when I learned +that I had been too late, and that my poor love was smirched with that +man’s sin, I fled away with the sense of my useless guilt upon me more +heavily than I could bear. Ah! sir, you that have not done such a sin +don’t know what it is to carry it with you. You may think that custom +makes it easy to you, but it is not so. It grows and grows with every +hour, till it becomes intolerable, and with it growing, too, the feeling +that you must for ever stand outside Heaven. You don’t know what that +means, and I pray God that you never may. Ordinary men, to whom all +things are possible, don’t often, if ever, think of Heaven. It is a +name, and nothing more, and they are content to wait and let things be, +but to those who are doomed to be shut out for ever you cannot think +what it means, you cannot guess or measure the terrible endless longing +to see the gates opened, and to be able to join the white figures +within.</p> + +<p>“And this brings me to my dream. It seemed that the portal was before +me, with great gates of massive steel with bars of the thickness of a +mast, rising to the very clouds, and so close that between them was just +a glimpse of a crystal grotto, on whose shining walls were figured many +white-clad forms with faces radiant with joy. When I stood before the +gate my heart and my soul were so full of rapture and longing that I +forgot. And there stood at the gate two mighty angels with sweeping +wings, and, oh! so stern of countenance. They held each in one hand a +flaming sword, and in the other the latchet, which moved to and fro at +their lightest touch. Nearer were figures all draped in black, with +heads covered so that only the eyes were seen, and they handed to each +who came white garments such as the angels wear. A low murmur came that +told that all should put on their own robes, and without soil, or the +angels would not pass them in, but would smite them down with the +flaming swords. I was eager to don my own garment, and hurriedly threw +it over me and stepped swiftly to the gate; but it moved not, and the +angels, loosing the latchet, pointed to my dress, I looked down, and was +aghast, for the whole robe was smeared with blood. My hands were red; +they glittered with the blood that dripped from them as on that day by +the river bank. And then the angels raised their flaming swords to smite +me down, and the horror was complete—I awoke. Again, and again, and +again, that awful dream comes to me. I never learn from the experience, +I never remember, but at the beginning the hope is ever there to make +the end more appalling; and I know that the dream does not come out of +the common darkness where the dreams abide, but that it is sent from God +as a punishment! Never, never shall I be able to pass the gate, for the +soil on the angel garments must ever come from these bloody hands!”</p> + +<p>I listened as in a spell as Jacob Settle spoke. There was something so +far away in the tone of his voice—something so dreamy and mystic in the +eyes that looked as if through me at some spirit beyond—something so +lofty in his very diction and in such marked contrast to his workworn +clothes and his poor surroundings that I wondered if the whole thing +were not a dream.</p> + +<p>We were both silent for a long time. I kept looking at the man before me +in growing wonderment. Now that his confession had been made, his soul, +which had been crushed to the very earth, seemed to leap back again to +uprightness with some resilient force. I suppose I ought to have been +horrified with his story, but, strange to say, I was not. It certainly +is not pleasant to be made the recipient of the confidence of a +murderer, but this poor fellow seemed to have had, not only so much +provocation, but so much self-denying purpose in his deed of blood that +I did not feel called upon to pass judgment upon him. My purpose was to +comfort, so I spoke out with what calmness I could, for my heart was +beating fast and heavily:</p> + +<p>“You need not despair, Jacob Settle. God is very good, and His mercy is +great. Live on and work on in the hope that some day you may feel that +you have atoned for the past.” Here I paused, for I could see that deep, +natural sleep this time, was creeping upon him. “Go to sleep,” I said; +“I shall watch with you here and we shall have no more evil dreams +tonight.”</p> + +<p>He made an effort to pull himself together, and answered:</p> + +<p>“I don’t know how to thank you for your goodness to me this night, but I +think you had best leave me now. I’ll try and sleep this out; I feel a +weight off my mind since I have told you all. If there’s anything of the +man left in me, I must try and fight out life alone.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go tonight, as you wish it,” I said; “but take my advice, and do +not live in such a solitary way. Go among men and women; live among +them. Share their joys and sorrows, and it will help you to forget. This +solitude will make you melancholy mad.”</p> + +<p>“I will!” he answered, half unconsciously, for sleep was overmastering +him.</p> + +<p>I turned to go, and he looked after me. When I had touched the latch I +dropped it, and, coming back to the bed, held out my hand. He grasped it +with both his as he rose to a sitting posture, and I said my goodnight, +trying to cheer him:</p> + +<p>“Heart, man, heart! There is work in the world for you to do, Jacob +Settle. You can wear those white robes yet and pass through that gate of +steel!”</p> + +<p>Then I left him.</p> + +<p>A week after I found his cottage deserted, and on asking at the works +was told that he had “gone north”, no one exactly knew whither.</p> + +<p>Two years afterwards, I was staying for a few days with my friend Dr. +Munro in Glasgow. He was a busy man, and could not spare much time for +going about with me, so I spent my days in excursions to the Trossachs +and Loch Katrine and down the Clyde. On the second last evening of my +stay I came back somewhat later than I had arranged, but found that my +host was late too. The maid told me that he had been sent for to the +hospital—a case of accident at the gas-works, and the dinner was +postponed an hour; so telling her I would stroll down to find her master +and walk back with him, I went out. At the hospital I found him washing +his hands preparatory to starting for home. Casually, I asked him what +his case was.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the usual thing! A rotten rope and men’s lives of no account. Two +men were working in a gasometer, when the rope that held their +scaffolding broke. It must have occurred just before the dinner hour, +for no one noticed their absence till the men had returned. There was +about seven feet of water in the gasometer, so they had a hard fight for +it, poor fellows. However, one of them was alive, just alive, but we +have had a hard job to pull him through. It seems that he owes his life +to his mate, for I have never heard of greater heroism. They swam +together while their strength lasted, but at the end they were so done +up that even the lights above, and the men slung with ropes, coming down +to help them, could not keep them up. But one of them stood on the +bottom and held up his comrade over his head, and those few breaths made +all the difference between life and death. They were a shocking sight +when they were taken out, for that water is like a purple dye with the +gas and the tar. The man upstairs looked as if he had been washed in +blood. Ugh!”</p> + +<p>“And the other?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s worse still. But he must have been a very noble fellow. That +struggle under the water must have been fearful; one can see that by the +way the blood has been drawn from the extremities. It makes the idea of +the <i>Stigmata</i> possible to look at him. Resolution like this could, you +would think, do anything in the world. Ay! it might almost unbar the +gates of Heaven. Look here, old man, it is not a very pleasant sight, +especially just before dinner, but you are a writer, and this is an odd +case. Here is something you would not like to miss, for in all human +probability you will never see anything like it again.” While he was +speaking he had brought me into the mortuary of the hospital.</p> + +<p>On the bier lay a body covered with a white sheet, which was wrapped +close round it.</p> + +<p>“Looks like a chrysalis, don’t it? I say, Jack, if there be anything in +the old myth that a soul is typified by a butterfly, well, then the one +that this chrysalis sent forth was a very noble specimen and took all +the sunlight on its wings. See here!” He uncovered the face. Horrible, +indeed, it looked, as though stained with blood. But I knew him at once, +Jacob Settle! My friend pulled the winding sheet further down.</p> + +<p>The hands were crossed on the purple breast as they had been reverently +placed by some tender-hearted person. As I saw them my heart throbbed +with a great exultation, for the memory of his harrowing dream rushed +across my mind. There was no stain now on those poor, brave hands, for +they were blanched white as snow.</p> + +<p>And somehow as I looked I felt that the evil dream was all over. That +noble soul had won a way through the gate at last. The white robe had +now no stain from the hands that had put it on. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>Crooken Sands</h2> + +<p> +Mr Arthur Fernlee Markam, who took what was known as the Red House above +the Mains of Crooken, was a London merchant, and being essentially a +cockney, thought it necessary when he went for the summer holidays to +Scotland to provide an entire rig-out as a Highland chieftain, as +manifested in chromolithographs and on the music-hall stage. He had once +seen in the Empire the Great Prince—“The Bounder King”—bring down the +house by appearing as “The MacSlogan of that Ilk,” and singing the +celebrated Scotch song, “There’s naething like haggis to mak a mon dry!” +and he had ever since preserved in his mind a faithful image of the +picturesque and warlike appearance which he presented. Indeed, if the +true inwardness of Mr. Markam’s mind on the subject of his selection of +Aberdeenshire as a summer resort were known, it would be found that in +the foreground of the holiday locality which his fancy painted stalked +the many hued figure of the MacSlogan of that Ilk. However, be this as +it may, a very kind fortune—certainly so far as external beauty was +concerned—led him to the choice of Crooken Bay. It is a lovely spot, +between Aberdeen and Peterhead, just under the rock-bound headland +whence the long, dangerous reefs known as The Spurs run out into the +North Sea. Between this and the “Mains of Crooken”—a village sheltered +by the northern cliffs—lies the deep bay, backed with a multitude of +bent-grown dunes where the rabbits are to be found in thousands. Thus at +either end of the bay is a rocky promontory, and when the dawn or the +sunset falls on the rocks of red syenite the effect is very lovely. The +bay itself is floored with level sand and the tide runs far out, leaving +a smooth waste of hard sand on which are dotted here and there the stake +nets and bag nets of the salmon fishers. At one end of the bay there is +a little group or cluster of rocks whose heads are raised something +above high water, except when in rough weather the waves come over them +green. At low tide they are exposed down to sand level; and here is +perhaps the only little bit of dangerous sand on this part of the +eastern coast. Between the rocks, which are apart about some fifty feet, +is a small quicksand, which, like the Goodwins, is dangerous only with +the incoming tide. It extends outwards till it is lost in the sea, and +inwards till it fades away in the hard sand of the upper beach. On the +slope of the hill which rises beyond the dunes, midway between the Spurs +and the Port of Crooken, is the Red House. It rises from the midst of a +clump of fir-trees which protect it on three sides, leaving the whole +sea front open. A trim old-fashioned garden stretches down to the +roadway, on crossing which a grassy path, which can be used for light +vehicles, threads a way to the shore, winding amongst the sand hills.</p> + +<p>When the Markam family arrived at the Red House after their thirty-six +hours of pitching on the Aberdeen steamer <i>Ban Righ</i> from Blackwall, +with the subsequent train to Yellon and drive of a dozen miles, they all +agreed that they had never seen a more delightful spot. The general +satisfaction was more marked as at that very time none of the family +were, for several reasons, inclined to find favourable anything or any +place over the Scottish border. Though the family was a large one, the +prosperity of the business allowed them all sorts of personal luxuries, +amongst which was a wide latitude in the way of dress. The frequency of +the Markam girls’ new frocks was a source of envy to their bosom friends +and of joy to themselves.</p> + +<p>Arthur Fernlee Markam had not taken his family into his confidence +regarding his new costume. He was not quite certain that he should be +free from ridicule, or at least from sarcasm, and as he was sensitive on +the subject, he thought it better to be actually in the suitable +environment before he allowed the full splendour to burst upon them. He +had taken some pains, to insure the completeness of the Highland +costume. For the purpose he had paid many visits to “The Scotch All-Wool +Tartan Clothing Mart” which had been lately established in +Copthall-court by the Messrs. MacCallum More and Roderick MacDhu. He had +anxious consultations with the head of the firm—MacCallum as he called +himself, resenting any such additions as “Mr.” or “Esquire.” The known +stock of buckles, buttons, straps, brooches and ornaments of all kinds +were examined in critical detail; and at last an eagle’s feather of +sufficiently magnificent proportions was discovered, and the equipment +was complete. It was only when he saw the finished costume, with the +vivid hues of the tartan seemingly modified into comparative sobriety by +the multitude of silver fittings, the cairngorm brooches, the philibeg, +dirk and sporran that he was fully and absolutely satisfied with his +choice. At first he had thought of the Royal Stuart dress tartan, but +abandoned it on the MacCallum pointing out that if he should happen to +be in the neighbourhood of Balmoral it might lead to complications. The +MacCallum, who, by the way, spoke with a remarkable cockney accent, +suggested other plaids in turn; but now that the other question of +accuracy had been raised, Mr. Markam foresaw difficulties if he should +by chance find himself in the locality of the clan whose colours he had +usurped. The MacCallum at last undertook to have, at Markam’s expense, a +special pattern woven which would not be exactly the same as any +existing tartan, though partaking of the characteristics of many. It was +based on the Royal Stuart, but contained suggestions as to simplicity of +pattern from the Macalister and Ogilvie clans, and as to neutrality of +colour from the clans of Buchanan, Macbeth, Chief of Macintosh and +Macleod. When the specimen had been shown to Markam he had feared +somewhat lest it should strike the eye of his domestic circle as gaudy; +but as Roderick MacDhu fell into perfect ecstasies over its beauty he +did not make any objection to the completion of the piece. He thought, +and wisely, that if a genuine Scotchman like MacDhu liked it, it must be +right—especially as the junior partner was a man very much of his own +build and appearance. When the MacCallum was receiving his +cheque—which, by the way, was a pretty stiff one—he remarked:</p> + +<p>“I’ve taken the liberty of having some more of the stuff woven in case +you or any of your friends should want it.” Markam was gratified, and +told him that he should be only too happy if the beautiful stuff which +they had originated between them should become a favourite, as he had no +doubt it would in time. He might make and sell as much as he would.</p> + +<p>Markam tried the dress on in his office one evening after the clerks had +all gone home. He was pleased, though a little frightened, at the +result. The MacCallum had done his work thoroughly, and there was +nothing omitted that could add to the martial dignity of the wearer.</p> + +<p>“I shall not, of course, take the claymore and the pistols with me on +ordinary occasions,” said Markam to himself as he began to undress. He +determined that he would wear the dress for the first time on landing in +Scotland, and accordingly on the morning when the <i>Ban Righ</i> was hanging +off the Girdle Ness lighthouse, waiting for the tide to enter the port +of Aberdeen, he emerged from his cabin in all the gaudy splendour of his +new costume. The first comment he heard was from one of his own sons, +who did not recognise him at first.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a guy! Great Scott! It’s the governor!” And the boy fled +forthwith and tried to bury his laughter under a cushion in the saloon. +Markam was a good sailor and had not suffered from the pitching of the +boat, so that his naturally rubicund face was even more rosy by the +conscious blush which suffused his cheeks when he had found himself at +once the cynosure of all eyes. He could have wished that he had not been +so bold for he knew from the cold that there was a big bare spot under +one side of his jauntily worn Glengarry cap. However, he faced the group +of strangers boldly. He was not, outwardly, upset even when some of the +comments reached his ears.</p> + +<p>“He’s off his bloomin’ chump,” said a cockney in a suit of exaggerated +plaid.</p> + +<p>“There’s flies on him,” said a tall thin Yankee, pale with sea-sickness, +who was on his way to take up his residence for a time as close as he +could get to the gates of Balmoral.</p> + +<p>“Happy thought! Let us fill our mulls; now’s the chance!” said a young +Oxford man on his way home to Inverness. But presently Mr. Markam heard +the voice of his eldest daughter.</p> + +<p>“Where is he? Where is he?” and she came tearing along the deck with her +hat blowing behind her. Her face showed signs of agitation, for her +mother had just been telling her of her father’s condition; but when she +saw him she instantly burst into laughter so violent that it ended in a +fit of hysterics. Something of the same kind happened to each of the +other children. When they had all had their turn Mr. Markam went to his +cabin and sent his wife’s maid to tell each member of the family that he +wanted to see them at once. They all made their appearance, suppressing +their feelings as well as they could. He said to them very quietly:</p> + +<p>“My dears, don’t I provide you all with ample allowances?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, father!” they all answered gravely, “no one could be more +generous!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t I let you dress as you please?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, father!”—this a little sheepishly.</p> + +<p>“Then, my dears, don’t you think it would be nicer and kinder of you not +to try and make me feel uncomfortable, even if I do assume a dress which +is ridiculous in your eyes, though quite common enough in the country +where we are about to sojourn?” There was no answer except that which +appeared in their hanging heads. He was a good father and they all knew +it. He was quite satisfied and went on:</p> + +<p>“There, now, run away and enjoy yourselves! We shan’t have another word +about it.” Then he went on deck again and stood bravely the fire of +ridicule which he recognised around him, though nothing more was said +within his hearing.</p> + +<p>The astonishment and the amusement which his get-up occasioned on the +<i>Ban Righ</i> was, however, nothing to that which it created in Aberdeen. +The boys and loafers, and women with babies, who waited at the landing +shed, followed <i>en masse</i> as the Markam party took their way to the +railway station; even the porters with their old-fashioned knots and +their new-fashioned barrows, who await the traveller at the foot of the +gang-plank, followed in wondering delight. Fortunately the Peterhead +train was just about to start, so that the martyrdom was not +unnecessarily prolonged. In the carriage the glorious Highland costume +was unseen, and as there were but few persons at the station at Yellon, +all went well there. When, however, the carriage drew near the Mains of +Crooken and the fisher folk had run to their doors to see who it was +that was passing, the excitement exceeded all bounds. The children with +one impulse waved their bonnets and ran shouting behind the carriage; +the men forsook their nets and their baiting and followed; the women +clutched their babies, and followed also. The horses were tired after +their long journey to Yellon and back, and the hill was steep, so that +there was ample time for the crowd to gather and even to pass on ahead.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Markam and the elder girls would have liked to make some protest or +to do something to relieve their feelings of chagrin at the ridicule +which they saw on all faces, but there was a look of fixed determination +on the face of the seeming Highlander which awed them a little, and they +were silent. It might have been that the eagle’s feather, even when +arising above the bald head, the cairngorm brooch even on the fat +shoulder, and the claymore, dirk and pistols, even when belted round the +extensive paunch and protruding from the stocking on the sturdy calf, +fulfilled their existence as symbols of martial and terrifying import! +When the party arrived at the gate of the Red House there awaited them a +crowd of Crooken inhabitants, hatless and respectfully silent; the +remainder of the population was painfully toiling up the hill. The +silence was broken by only one sound, that of a man with a deep voice.</p> + +<p>“Man! but he’s forgotten the pipes!”</p> + +<p>The servants had arrived some days before, and all things were in +readiness. In the glow consequent on a good lunch after a hard journey +all the disagreeables of travel and all the chagrin consequent on the +adoption of the obnoxious costume were forgotten.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Markam, still clad in full array, walked through the +Mains of Crooken. He was all alone, for, strange to say, his wife and +both daughters had sick headaches, and were, as he was told, lying down +to rest after the fatigue of the journey. His eldest son, who claimed to +be a young man, had gone out by himself to explore the surroundings of +the place, and one of the boys could not be found. The other boy, on +being told that his father had sent for him to come for a walk, had +managed—by accident, of course—to fall into the water butt, and had to +be dried and rigged out afresh. His clothes not having been as yet +unpacked this was of course impossible without delay.</p> + +<p>Mr. Markam was not quite satisfied with his walk. He could not meet any +of his neighbours. It was not that there were not enough people about, +for every house and cottage seemed to be full; but the people when in +the open were either in their doorways some distance behind him, or on +the roadway a long distance in front. As he passed he could see the tops +of heads and the whites of eyes in the windows or round the corners of +doors. The only interview which he had was anything but a pleasant one. +This was with an odd sort of old man who was hardly ever heard to speak +except to join in the “Amens” in the meeting-house. His sole occupation +seemed to be to wait at the window of the post-office from eight o’clock +in the morning till the arrival of the mail at one, when he carried the +letter-bag to a neighbouring baronial castle. The remainder of his day +was spent on a seat in a draughty part of the port, where the offal of +the fish, the refuse of the bait, and the house rubbish was thrown, and +where the ducks were accustomed to hold high revel.</p> + +<p>When Saft Tammie beheld him coming he raised his eyes, which were +generally fixed on the nothing which lay on the roadway opposite his +seat, and, seeming dazzled as if by a burst of sunshine, rubbed them and +shaded them with his hand. Then he started up and raised his hand aloft +in a denunciatory manner as he spoke:—</p> + +<p>“‘Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher. All is vanity.’ Mon, be warned +in time! ‘Behold the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they +spin, yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’ +Mon! Mon! Thy vanity is as the quicksand which swallows up all which +comes within its spell. Beware vanity! Beware the quicksand, which +yawneth for thee, and which will swallow thee up! See thyself! Learn +thine own vanity! Meet thyself face to face, and then in that moment +thou shalt learn the fatal force of thy vanity. Learn it, know it, and +repent ere the quicksand swallow thee!” Then without another word he +went back to his seat and sat there immovable and expressionless as +before.</p> + +<p>Markam could not but feel a little upset by this tirade. Only that it +was spoken by a seeming madman, he would have put it down to some +eccentric exhibition of Scottish humour or impudence; but the gravity of +the message—for it seemed nothing else—made such a reading impossible. +He was, however, determined not to give in to ridicule, and although he +had not yet seen anything in Scotland to remind him even of a kilt, he +determined to wear his Highland dress. When he returned home, in less +than half-an-hour, he found that every member of the family was, despite +the headaches, out taking a walk. He took the opportunity afforded by +their absence of locking himself in his dressing-room, took off the +Highland dress, and, putting on a suit of flannels, lit a cigar and had +a snooze. He was awakened by the noise of the family coming in, and at +once donning his dress made his appearance in the drawing-room for tea.</p> + +<p>He did not go out again that afternoon; but after dinner he put on his +dress again—he had, of course dressed for dinner as usual—and went by +himself for a walk on the sea-shore. He had by this time come to the +conclusion that he would get by degrees accustomed to the Highland dress +before making it his ordinary wear. The moon was up and he easily +followed the path through the sand-hills, and shortly struck the shore. +The tide was out and the beach firm as a rock, so he strolled southwards +to nearly the end of the bay. Here he was attracted by two isolated +rocks some little way out from the edge of the dunes, so he strolled +towards them. When he reached the nearest one he climbed it, and, +sitting there elevated some fifteen or twenty feet over the waste of +sand, enjoyed the lovely, peaceful prospect. The moon was rising behind +the headland of Pennyfold, and its light was just touching the top of +the furthermost rock of the Spurs some three-quarters of a mile out; the +rest of the rocks were in dark shadow. As the moon rose over the +headland, the rocks of the Spurs and then the beach by degrees became +flooded with light.</p> + +<p>For a good while Mr. Markam sat and looked at the rising moon and the +growing area of light which followed its rise. Then he turned and faced +eastwards and sat with his chin in his hand looking seawards, and +revelling in the peace and beauty and freedom of the scene. The roar of +London—the darkness and the strife and weariness of London life—seemed +to have passed quite away, and he lived at the moment a freer and higher +life. He looked at the glistening water as it stole its way over the +flat waste of sand, coming closer and closer insensibly—the tide had +turned. Presently he heard a distant shouting along the beach very far +off.</p> + +<p>“The fishermen calling to each other,” he said to himself and looked +around. As he did so he got a horrible shock, for though just then a +cloud sailed across the moon he saw, in spite of the sudden darkness +around him, his own image. For an instant, on the top of the opposite +rock he could see the bald back of the head and the Glengarry cap with +the immense eagle’s feather. As he staggered back his foot slipped, and +he began to slide down towards the sand between the two rocks. He took +no concern as to falling, for the sand was really only a few feet below +him, and his mind was occupied with the figure or simulacrum of himself, +which had already disappeared. As the easiest way of reaching <i>terra +firma</i> he prepared to jump the remainder of the distance. All this had +taken but a second, but the brain works quickly, and even as he gathered +himself for the spring he saw the sand below him lying so marbly level +shake and shiver in an odd way. A sudden fear overcame him; his knees +failed, and instead of jumping he slid miserably down the rock, +scratching his bare legs as he went. His feet touched the sand—went +through it like water—and he was down below his knees before he +realised that he was in a quicksand. Wildly he grasped at the rock to +keep himself from sinking further, and fortunately there was a jutting +spur or edge which he was able to grasp instinctively. To this he clung +in grim desperation. He tried to shout, but his breath would not come, +till after a great effort his voice rang out. Again he shouted, and it +seemed as if the sound of his own voice gave him new courage, for he was +able to hold on to the rock for a longer time than he thought +possible—though he held on only in blind desperation. He was, however, +beginning to find his grasp weakening, when, joy of joys! his shout was +answered by a rough voice from just above him.</p> + +<p>“God be thankit, I’m nae too late!” and a fisherman with great +thigh-boots came hurriedly climbing over the rock. In an instant he +recognised the gravity of the danger, and with a cheering “Haud fast, +mon! I’m comin’!” scrambled down till he found a firm foothold. Then +with one strong hand holding the rock above, he leaned down, and +catching Markam’s wrist, called out to him, “Haud to me, mon! Haud to me +wi’ ither hond!”</p> + +<p>Then he lent his great strength, and with a steady, sturdy pull, dragged +him out of the hungry quicksand and placed him safe upon the rock. +Hardly giving him time to draw breath, he pulled and pushed him—never +letting him go for an instant—over the rock into the firm sand beyond +it, and finally deposited him, still shaking from the magnitude of his +danger, high upon the beach. Then he began to speak:</p> + +<p>“Mon! but I was just in time. If I had no laucht at yon foolish lads and +begun to rin at the first you’d a bin sinkin’ doon to the bowels o’ the +airth be the noo! Wully Beagrie thocht you was a ghaist, and Tom +MacPhail swore ye was only like a goblin on a puddick-steel! ‘Na!’ said +I. ‘Yon’s but the daft Englishman—the loony that had escapit frae the +waxwarks.’ I was thinkin’ that bein’ strange and silly—if not a +whole-made feel—ye’d no ken the ways o’ the quicksan’! I shouted till +warn ye, and then ran to drag ye aff, if need be. But God be thankit, be +ye fule or only half-daft wi’ yer vanity, that I was no that late!” and +he reverently lifted his cap as he spoke.</p> + +<p>Mr. Markam was deeply touched and thankful for his escape from a +horrible death; but the sting of the charge of vanity thus made once +more against him came through his humility. He was about to reply +angrily, when suddenly a great awe fell upon him as he remembered the +warning words of the half-crazy letter-carrier: “Meet thyself face to +face, and repent ere the quicksand shall swallow thee!”</p> + +<p>Here, too, he remembered the image of himself that he had seen and the +sudden danger from the deadly quicksand that had followed. He was silent +a full minute, and then said:</p> + +<p>“My good fellow, I owe you my life!”</p> + +<p>The answer came with reverence from the hardy fisherman, “Na! Na! Ye owe +that to God; but, as for me, I’m only too glad till be the humble +instrument o’ His mercy.”</p> + +<p>“But you will let me thank you,” said Mr. Markam, taking both the great +hands of his deliverer in his and holding them tight. “My heart is too +full as yet, and my nerves are too much shaken to let me say much; but, +believe me, I am very, very grateful!” It was quite evident that the +poor old fellow was deeply touched, for the tears were running down his +cheeks.</p> + +<p>The fisherman said, with a rough but true courtesy:</p> + +<p>“Ay, sir! thank me and ye will—if it’ll do yer poor heart good. An’ I’m +thinking that if it were me I’d be thankful too. But, sir, as for me I +need no thanks. I am glad, so I am!”</p> + +<p>That Arthur Fernlee Markam was really thankful and grateful was shown +practically later on. Within a week’s time there sailed into Port +Crooken the finest fishing smack that had ever been seen in the harbour +of Peterhead. She was fully found with sails and gear of all kinds, and +with nets of the best. Her master and men went away by the coach, after +having left with the salmon-fisher’s wife the papers which made her over +to him.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Markam and the salmon-fisher walked together along the shore the +former asked his companion not to mention the fact that he had been in +such imminent danger, for that it would only distress his dear wife and +children. He said that he would warn them all of the quicksand, and for +that purpose he, then and there, asked questions about it till he felt +that his information on the subject was complete. Before they parted he +asked his companion if he had happened to see a second figure, dressed +like himself on the other rock as he had approached to succour him.</p> + +<p>“Na! Na!” came the answer, “there is nae sic another fule in these +parts. Nor has there been since the time o’ Jamie Fleeman—him that was +fule to the Laird o’ Udny. Why, mon! sic a heathenish dress as ye have +on till ye has nae been seen in these pairts within the memory o’ mon. +An’ I’m thinkin’ that sic a dress never was for sittin’ on the cauld +rock, as ye done beyont. Mon! but do ye no fear the rheumatism or the +lumbagy wi’ floppin’ doon on to the cauld stanes wi’ yer bare flesh? I +was thinking that it was daft ye waur when I see ye the mornin’ doon be +the port, but it’s fule or eediot ye maun be for the like o’ thot!” Mr. +Markam did not care to argue the point, and as they were now close to +his own home he asked the salmon-fisher to have a glass of whisky—which +he did—and they parted for the night. He took good care to warn all his +family of the quicksand, telling them that he had himself been in some +danger from it.</p> + +<p>All that night he never slept. He heard the hours strike one after the +other; but try how he would he could not get to sleep. Over and over +again he went through the horrible episode of the quicksand, from the +time that Saft Tammie had broken his habitual silence to preach to him +of the sin of vanity and to warn him. The question kept ever arising in +his mind: “Am I then so vain as to be in the ranks of the foolish?” and +the answer ever came in the words of the crazy prophet: “‘Vanity of +vanities! All is vanity.’ Meet thyself face to face, and repent ere the +quicksand shall swallow thee!” Somehow a feeling of doom began to shape +itself in his mind that he would yet perish in that same quicksand, for +there he had already met himself face to face.</p> + +<p>In the grey of the morning he dozed off, but it was evident that he +continued the subject in his dreams, for he was fully awakened by his +wife, who said:</p> + +<p>“Do sleep quietly! That blessed Highland suit has got on your brain. +Don’t talk in your sleep, if you can help it!” He was somehow conscious +of a glad feeling, as if some terrible weight had been lifted from him, +but he did not know any cause of it. He asked his wife what he had said +in his sleep, and she answered:</p> + +<p>“You said it often enough, goodness knows, for one to remember it—‘Not +face to face! I saw the eagle plume over the bald head! There is hope +yet! Not face to face!’ Go to sleep! Do!” And then he did go to sleep, +for he seemed to realise that the prophecy of the crazy man had not yet +been fulfilled. He had not met himself face to face—as yet at all +events.</p> + +<p>He was awakened early by a maid who came to tell him that there was a +fisherman at the door who wanted to see him. He dressed himself as +quickly as he could—for he was not yet expert with the Highland +dress—and hurried down, not wishing to keep the salmon-fisher waiting. +He was surprised and not altogether pleased to find that his visitor was +none other than Saft Tammie, who at once opened fire on him:</p> + +<p>“I maun gang awa’ t’ the post; but I thocht that I would waste an hour +on ye, and ca’ roond just to see if ye waur still that fou wi’ vanity as +on the nicht gane by. An I see that ye’ve no learned the lesson. Well! +the time is comin’, sure eneucht! However I have all the time i’ the +marnins to my ain sel’, so I’ll aye look roond jist till see how ye gang +yer ain gait to the quicksan’, and then to the de’il! I’m aff till ma +wark the noo!” And he went straightway, leaving Mr. Markam considerably +vexed, for the maids within earshot were vainly trying to conceal their +giggles. He had fairly made up his mind to wear on that day ordinary +clothes, but the visit of Saft Tammie reversed his decision. He would +show them all that he was not a coward, and he would go on as he had +begun—come what might. When he came to breakfast in full martial +panoply the children, one and all, held down their heads and the backs +of their necks became very red indeed. As, however, none of them +laughed—except Titus, the youngest boy, who was seized with a fit of +hysterical choking and was promptly banished from the room—he could not +reprove them, but began to break his egg with a sternly determined air. +It was unfortunate that as his wife was handing him a cup of tea one of +the buttons of his sleeve caught in the lace of her morning wrapper, +with the result that the hot tea was spilt over his bare knees. Not +unnaturally, he made use of a swear word, whereupon his wife, somewhat +nettled, spoke out:</p> + +<p>“Well, Arthur, if you will make such an idiot of yourself with that +ridiculous costume what else can you expect? You are not accustomed to +it—and you never will be!” In answer he began an indignant speech with: +“Madam!” but he got no further, for now that the subject was broached, +Mrs. Markam intended to have her say out. It was not a pleasant say, +and, truth to tell, it was not said in a pleasant manner. A wife’s +manner seldom is pleasant when she undertakes to tell what she considers +“truths” to her husband. The result was that Arthur Fernlee Markam +undertook, then and there, that during his stay in Scotland he would +wear no other costume than the one she abused. Woman-like his wife had +the last word—given in this case with tears:</p> + +<p>“Very well, Arthur! Of course you will do as you choose. Make me as +ridiculous as you can, and spoil the poor girls’ chances in life. Young +men don’t seem to care, as a general rule, for an idiot father-in-law! +But I must warn you that your vanity will some day get a rude shock—if +indeed you are not before then in an asylum or dead!”</p> + +<p>It was manifest after a few days that Mr. Markam would have to take the +major part of his outdoor exercise by himself. The girls now and again +took a walk with him, chiefly in the early morning or late at night, or +on a wet day when there would be no one about; they professed to be +willing to go out at all times, but somehow something always seemed to +occur to prevent it. The boys could never be found at all on such +occasions, and as to Mrs. Markam she sternly refused to go out with him +on any consideration so long as he should continue to make a fool of +himself. On the Sunday he dressed himself in his habitual broadcloth, +for he rightly felt that church was not a place for angry feelings; but +on Monday morning he resumed his Highland garb. By this time he would +have given a good deal if he had never thought of the dress, but his +British obstinacy was strong, and he would not give in. Saft Tammie +called at his house every morning, and, not being able to see him nor to +have any message taken to him, used to call back in the afternoon when +the letter-bag had been delivered and watched for his going out. On such +occasions he never failed to warn him against his vanity in the same +words which he had used at the first. Before many days were over Mr. +Markam had come to look upon him as little short of a scourge.</p> + +<p>By the time the week was out the enforced partial solitude, the constant +chagrin, and the never-ending brooding which was thus engendered, began +to make Mr. Markam quite ill. He was too proud to take any of his family +into his confidence since they had in his view treated him very badly. +Then he did not sleep well at night, and when he did sleep he had +constantly bad dreams. Merely to assure himself that his pluck was not +failing him he made it a practice to visit the quicksand at least once +every day; he hardly ever failed to go there the last thing at night. It +was perhaps this habit that wrought the quicksand with its terrible +experience so perpetually into his dreams. More and more vivid these +became, till on waking at times he could hardly realise that he had not +been actually in the flesh to visit the fatal spot. He sometimes thought +that he might have been walking in his sleep.</p> + +<p>One night his dream was so vivid that when he awoke he could not believe +that it had only been a dream. He shut his eyes again and again, but +each time the vision, if it was a vision, or the reality, if it was a +reality, would rise before him. The moon was shining full and yellow +over the quicksand as he approached it; he could see the expanse of +light shaken and disturbed and full of black shadows as the liquid sand +quivered and trembled and wrinkled and eddied as was its wont between +its pauses of marble calm. As he drew close to it another figure came +towards it from the opposite side with equal footsteps. He saw that it +was his own figure, his very self, and in silent terror, compelled by +what force he knew not, he advanced—charmed as the bird is by the +snake, mesmerised or hypnotised—to meet this other self. As he felt the +yielding sand closing over him he awoke in the agony of death, trembling +with fear, and, strange to say, with the silly man’s prophecy seeming to +sound in his ears: “‘Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!’ See thyself and +repent ere the quicksand swallow thee!”</p> + +<p>So convinced was he that this was no dream that he arose, early as it +was, and dressing himself without disturbing his wife took his way to +the shore. His heart fell when he came across a series of footsteps on +the sands, which he at once recognised as his own. There was the same +wide heel, the same square toe; he had no doubt now that he had actually +been there, and half horrified, and half in a state of dreamy stupor, he +followed the footsteps, and found them lost in the edge of the yielding +quicksand. This gave him a terrible shock, for there were no return +steps marked on the sand, and he felt that there was some dread mystery +which he could not penetrate, and the penetration of which would, he +feared, undo him.</p> + +<p>In this state of affairs he took two wrong courses. Firstly he kept his +trouble to himself, and, as none of his family had any clue to it, every +innocent word or expression which they used supplied fuel to the +consuming fire of his imagination. Secondly he began to read books +professing to bear upon the mysteries of dreaming and of mental +phenomena generally, with the result that every wild imagination of +every crank or half-crazy philosopher became a living germ of unrest in +the fertilising soil of his disordered brain. Thus negatively and +positively all things began to work to a common end. Not the least of +his disturbing causes was Saft Tammie, who had now become at certain +times of the day a fixture at his gate. After a while, being interested +in the previous state of this individual, he made inquiries regarding +his past with the following result.</p> + +<p>Saft Tammie was popularly believed to be the son of a laird in one of +the counties round the Firth of Forth. He had been partially educated +for the ministry, but for some cause which no one ever knew threw up his +prospects suddenly, and, going to Peterhead in its days of whaling +prosperity, had there taken service on a whaler. Here off and on he had +remained for some years, getting gradually more and more silent in his +habits, till finally his shipmates protested against so taciturn a mate, +and he had found service amongst the fishing smacks of the northern +fleet. He had worked for many years at the fishing with always the +reputation of being “a wee bit daft,” till at length he had gradually +settled down at Crooken, where the laird, doubtless knowing something of +his family history, had given him a job which practically made him a +pensioner. The minister who gave the information finished thus:—</p> + +<p>“It is a very strange thing, but the man seems to have some odd kind of +gift. Whether it be that ‘second sight’ which we Scotch people are so +prone to believe in, or some other occult form of knowledge, I know not, +but nothing of a disastrous tendency ever occurs in this place but the +men with whom he lives are able to quote after the event some saying of +his which certainly appears to have foretold it. He gets uneasy or +excited—wakes up, in fact—when death is in the air!”</p> + +<p>This did not in any way tend to lessen Mr. Markam’s concern, but on the +contrary seemed to impress the prophecy more deeply on his mind. Of all +the books which he had read on his new subject of study none interested +him so much as a German one <i>Die Döppleganger</i>, by Dr. Heinrich von +Aschenberg, formerly of Bonn. Here he learned for the first time of +cases where men had led a double existence—each nature being quite +apart from the other—the body being always a reality with one spirit, +and a simulacrum with the other. Needless to say that Mr. Markam +realised this theory as exactly suiting his own case. The glimpse which +he had of his own back the night of his escape from the quicksand—his +own footmarks disappearing into the quicksand with no return steps +visible—the prophecy of Saft Tammie about his meeting himself and +perishing in the quicksand—all lent aid to the conviction that he was +in his own person an instance of the döppleganger. Being then conscious +of a double life he took steps to prove its existence to his own +satisfaction. To this end on one night before going to bed he wrote his +name in chalk on the soles of his shoes. That night he dreamed of the +quicksand, and of his visiting it—dreamed so vividly that on walking in +the grey of the dawn he could not believe that he had not been there. +Arising, without disturbing his wife, he sought his shoes.</p> + +<p>The chalk signatures were undisturbed! He dressed himself and stole out +softly. This time the tide was in, so he crossed the dunes and struck +the shore on the further side of the quicksand. There, oh, horror of +horrors! he saw his own footprints dying into the abyss!</p> + +<p>He went home a desperately sad man. It seemed incredible that he, an +elderly commercial man, who had passed a long and uneventful life in the +pursuit of business in the midst of roaring, practical London, should +thus find himself enmeshed in mystery and horror, and that he should +discover that he had two existences. He could not speak of his trouble +even to his own wife, for well he knew that she would at once require +the fullest particulars of that other life—the one which she did not +know; and that she would at the start not only imagine but charge him +with all manner of infidelities on the head of it. And so his brooding +grew deeper and deeper still. One evening—the tide then going out and +the moon being at the full—he was sitting waiting for dinner when the +maid announced that Saft Tammie was making a disturbance outside because +he would not be let in to see him. He was very indignant, but did not +like the maid to think that he had any fear on the subject, and so told +her to bring him in. Tammie entered, walking more briskly than ever with +his head up and a look of vigorous decision in the eyes that were so +generally cast down. As soon as he entered he said:</p> + +<p>“I have come to see ye once again—once again; and there ye sit, still +just like a cockatoo on a pairch. Weel, mon, I forgie ye! Mind ye that, +I forgie ye!” And without a word more he turned and walked out of the +house, leaving the master in speechless indignation.</p> + +<p>After dinner he determined to pay another visit to the quicksand—he +would not allow even to himself that he was afraid to go. And so, about +nine o’clock, in full array, he marched to the beach, and passing over +the sands sat on the skirt of the nearer rock. The full moon was behind +him and its light lit up the bay so that its fringe of foam, the dark +outline of the headland, and the stakes of the salmon-nets were all +emphasised. In the brilliant yellow glow the lights in the windows of +Port Crooken and in those of the distant castle of the laird trembled +like stars through the sky. For a long time he sat and drank in the +beauty of the scene, and his soul seemed to feel a peace that it had not +known for many days. All the pettiness and annoyance and silly fears of +the past weeks seemed blotted out, and a new holy calm took the vacant +place. In this sweet and solemn mood he reviewed his late action calmly, +and felt ashamed of himself for his vanity and for the obstinacy which +had followed it. And then and there he made up his mind that the present +would be the last time he would wear the costume which had estranged him +from those whom he loved, and which had caused him so many hours and +days of chagrin, vexation, and pain.</p> + +<p>But almost as soon as he arrived at this conclusion another voice seemed +to speak within him and mockingly to ask him if he should ever get the +chance to wear the suit again—that it was too late—he had chosen his +course and must now abide the issue.</p> + +<p>“It is not too late,” came the quick answer of his better self; and full +of the thought, he rose up to go home and divest himself of the now +hateful costume right away. He paused for one look at the beautiful +scene. The light lay pale and mellow, softening every outline of rock +and tree and house-top, and deepening the shadows into velvety-black, +and lighting, as with a pale flame, the incoming tide, that now crept +fringe-like across the flat waste of sand. Then he left the rock and +stepped out for the shore.</p> + +<p>But as he did so a frightful spasm of horror shook him, and for an +instant the blood rushing to his head shut out all the light of the full +moon. Once more he saw that fatal image of himself moving beyond the +quicksand from the opposite rock to the shore. The shock was all the +greater for the contrast with the spell of peace which he had just +enjoyed; and, almost paralysed in every sense, he stood and watched the +fatal vision and the wrinkly, crawling quicksand that seemed to writhe +and yearn for something that lay between. There could be no mistake this +time, for though the moon behind threw the face into shadow he could see +there the same shaven cheeks as his own, and the small stubby moustache +of a few weeks’ growth. The light shone on the brilliant tartan, and on +the eagle’s plume. Even the bald space at one side of the Glengarry cap +glistened, as did the cairngorm brooch on the shoulder and the tops of +the silver buttons. As he looked he felt his feet slightly sinking, for +he was still near the edge of the belt of quicksand, and he stepped +back. As he did so the other figure stepped forward, so that the space +between them was preserved.</p> + +<p>So the two stood facing each other, as though in some weird fascination; +and in the rushing of the blood through his brain Markam seemed to hear +the words of the prophecy: “See thyself face to face, and repent ere the +quicksand swallow thee.” He did stand face to face with himself, he had +repented—and now he was sinking in the quicksand! The warning and +prophecy were coming true.</p> + +<p>Above him the seagulls screamed, circling round the fringe of the +incoming tide, and the sound being entirely mortal recalled him to +himself. On the instant he stepped back a few quick steps, for as yet +only his feet were merged in the soft sand. As he did so the other +figure stepped forward, and coming within the deadly grip of the +quicksand began to sink. It seemed to Markam that he was looking at +himself going down to his doom, and on the instant the anguish of his +soul found vent in a terrible cry. There was at the same instant a +terrible cry from the other figure, and as Markam threw up his hands the +figure did the same. With horror-struck eyes he saw him sink deeper into +the quicksand; and then, impelled by what power he knew not, he advanced +again towards the sand to meet his fate. But as his more forward foot +began to sink he heard again the cries of the seagulls which seemed to +restore his benumbed faculties. With a mighty effort he drew his foot +out of the sand which seemed to clutch it, leaving his shoe behind, and +then in sheer terror he turned and ran from the place, never stopping +till his breath and strength failed him, and he sank half swooning on +the grassy path through the sandhills.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Arthur Markam made up his mind not to tell his family of his terrible +adventure—until at least such time as he should be complete master of +himself. Now that the fatal double—his other self—had been engulfed in +the quicksand he felt something like his old peace of mind.</p> + +<p>That night he slept soundly and did not dream at all; and in the morning +was quite his old self. It really seemed as though his newer and worser +self had disappeared for ever; and strangely enough Saft Tammie was +absent from his post that morning and never appeared there again, but +sat in his old place watching nothing, as of old, with lack-lustre eye. +In accordance with his resolution he did not wear his Highland suit +again, but one evening tied it up in a bundle, claymore, dirk and +philibeg and all, and bringing it secretly with him threw it into the +quicksand. With a feeling of intense pleasure he saw it sucked below the +sand, which closed above it into marble smoothness. Then he went home +and announced cheerily to his family assembled for evening prayers:</p> + +<p>“Well! my dears, you will be glad to hear that I have abandoned my idea +of wearing the Highland dress. I see now what a vain old fool I was and +how ridiculous I made myself! You shall never see it again!”</p> + +<p>“Where is it, father?” asked one of the girls, wishing to say something +so that such a self-sacrificing announcement as her father’s should not +be passed in absolute silence. His answer was so sweetly given that the +girl rose from her seat and came and kissed him. It was:</p> + +<p>“In the quicksand, my dear! and I hope that my worser self is buried +there along with it—for ever.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The remainder of the summer was passed at Crooken with delight by all +the family, and on his return to town Mr. Markam had almost forgotten +the whole of the incident of the quicksand, and all touching on it, when +one day he got a letter from the MacCallum More which caused him much +thought, though he said nothing of it to his family, and left it, for +certain reasons, unanswered. It ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">“The MacCallum More and Roderick MacDhu.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">“The Scotch All-Wool Tartan Clothing Mart.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Copthall Court, E.C.,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">30th September, 1892.</span><br /></p> + +<p>“Dear Sir,—I trust you will pardon the liberty which I take in writing +to you, but I am desirous of making an inquiry, and I am informed that +you have been sojourning during the summer in Aberdeenshire (Scotland, +N.B.). My partner, Mr. Roderick MacDhu—as he appears for business +reasons on our bill-heads and in our advertisements, his real name being +Emmanuel Moses Marks of London—went early last month to Scotland (N.B.) +for a tour, but as I have only once heard from him, shortly after his +departure, I am anxious lest any misfortune may have befallen him. As I +have been unable to obtain any news of him on making all inquiries in my +power, I venture to appeal to you. His letter was written in deep +dejection of spirit, and mentioned that he feared a judgment had come +upon him for wishing to appear as a Scotchman on Scottish soil, as he +had one moonlight night shortly after his arrival seen his “wraith”. He +evidently alluded to the fact that before his departure he had procured +for himself a Highland costume similar to that which we had the honour +to supply to you, with which, as perhaps you will remember, he was much +struck. He may, however, never have worn it, as he was, to my own +knowledge, diffident about putting it on, and even went so far as to +tell me that he would at first only venture to wear it late at night or +very early in the morning, and then only in remote places, until such +time as he should get accustomed to it. Unfortunately he did not advise +me of his route so that I am in complete ignorance of his whereabouts; +and I venture to ask if you may have seen or heard of a Highland costume +similar to your own having been seen anywhere in the neighbourhood in +which I am told you have recently purchased the estate which you +temporarily occupied. I shall not expect an answer to this letter unless +you can give me some information regarding my friend and partner, so +pray do not trouble to reply unless there be cause. I am encouraged to +think that he may have been in your neighbourhood as, though his letter +is not dated, the envelope is marked with the postmark of ‘Yellon’ which +I find is in Aberdeenshire, and not far from the Mains of Crooken.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">“I have the honour to be, dear sir,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">“Yours very respectfully,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em; font-variant: small-caps;">“Joshua Sheeny Cohen Benjamin</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">“(The MacCallum More.)”</span><br /> +</p> +</blockquote> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10150 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + |