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diff --git a/76622-h/76622-h.htm b/76622-h/76622-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..77e1479 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/76622-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8570 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The story hunter | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.footnote {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 75%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +.indentleft {padding-left: 2em;} +.indentleft2 {padding-left: 4em;} +.indentright {padding-right: 2em;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +.illowe28_125 {width: 28.125em;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76622 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>THE STORY HUNTER</h1> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="frontispiece"> + <img class="w100" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“Into the mouthpiece of the machine I spoke, asking, ‘Do you hear +me?’”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_21">21</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">THE STORY HUNTER</span></p> + +<p>OR</p> + +<p><span class="xlarge">TALES OF THE WEIRD AND WILD</span></p> + +<p>BY<br> + +<span class="large">ERNEST R. SUFFLING</span><br> + +<i>Author of “Afloat in a Gipsy Van,” “Jethou, or Crusoe Life in the Channel Islands,”<br> +“Life on the Broads,” etc.</i></p> + +<p><i>ILLUSTRATED BY PAUL HARDY</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepagedeco.jpg" alt="title page"></div> + +<p>LONDON<br> +JARROLD & SONS, 10 <span class="allsmcap">AND</span> 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C.<br> +[<i>All Rights Reserved</i>]<br> +1896</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">PREFACE.</h2> +</div> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/decoline.jpg" alt=""></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">A year</span> or two since, when I wrote <i>Jethou; or +Crusoe Life in the Channel Isles</i>, I received a large +number of press reviews and criticisms, all but two of +which were of a very satisfactory and encouraging tone, +and spoke so flatteringly of my future career as a writer +of fiction, as to cause a blush—perhaps of modesty—perhaps +of hope—to suffuse my lily cheek. One of the +adverse critics, who must have been troubled with liver +complaint in some form, took a pessimistic view of my +work, doubting the facts contained in the book, and—in +a literary sense—running amuck with the fictional +portions. But, as he unwittingly helped the sale of the +first edition of <i>Jethou</i>, I thank the wielder of this biting +pen.</p> + +<p>The other detractor found no particular fault with the +book, but thought the writer somewhat <i>lacking in high +invention</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, in imaginative power.</p> + +<p>Of course few persons see their own faults, and I had +never even dreamed that I had any lack of inventive +power. But now that my deficiency has been suggested<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span> +to me by the critic of London’s leading daily newspaper, +I venture to place the present volume before the public +as an effort towards the vindication of my imaginative +power, and with the earnest hope that something may +be found in it of sufficient interest to repay the reader +for the time spent in its perusal.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">E. R. Suffling.</span></p> + +<p><i>Blomfield Lodge,</i><br> +<span class="indentleft"><i>Portsdown Road,</i></span><br> +<span class="indentleft2"><i>London, W.</i></span></p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/decoline.jpg" alt=""></div> +<table> + +<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="3"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Introduction—A Hypnotist on Wheels</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9"> 9</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">I.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Strange Discovery of Doctor Nosidy</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15"> 15</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">II.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">Two Ruined Towers</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36"> 36</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">III.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">A Strange Resurrection</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64"> 64</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">IV.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">A Visitor from Mars</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87"> 87</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">V.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">Barbe Rouge</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_105"> 105</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">VI.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">Robin Hood in Winter</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_124"> 124</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">VII.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">Eccles Old Tower</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_144"> 144</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">VIII.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Monk’s Penance</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161"> 161</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">IX.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">Doctor Angus Sinclair</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184"> 184</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">X.</span></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Phantom Riders</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211"> 211</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> + +<p class="ph2">THE STORY HUNTER.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/decoline2.jpg" alt=""></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">INTRODUCTION.<br> + +<small>A HYPNOTIST ON WHEELS.</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Most</span> men have a hobby of some kind, and I am +certainly no exception to the general rule. Some +love boating; some painting; others carving, angling, +walking, shooting, or one of a hundred other diversions. +The hobbies of noted men would fill a goodly volume—thus +Tosti is fond of upholstering; Gladstone of tree-felling; +the Sultan of Turkey is an amateur carpenter; +the Shah of Persia photographs everything he can aim +his lens at; the late Lord R. Churchill collected the +teeth of criminals; H.R.H. the Princess of Wales has a +passion for specimens of lace; and so on.</p> + +<p>Now I love none of these pursuits, but will confess at +once that my delight is <i>a good story</i>; something out of +the usual rut of everyday fiction; something fresh, +stimulating, racy; and to gratify my hobby I have been +for many years a most voluminous reader.</p> + +<p>No scientific works for me, thank you; no dreary, +three-volume, society novels; give me good, sterling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> +works of <i>fiction</i>—neither namby-pamby on the one +hand, nor revoltingly realistic on the other—but sound, +entertaining, well-worked-out fiction.</p> + +<p>Generally speaking, my experience of writers is disappointing. +One soon finds out their style of working, +and after reading a short way into a story, the +<i>dénouement</i> can frequently be correctly conjectured. +Some authors are aware of this, and purposely lead +their readers upon a wrong scent quite up to the penultimate +chapter, and then suddenly surprise them by +reversing their preconceived idea of the final disposition +of the characters represented. This is extremely puzzling +to that section of lady readers who “just glance at the +last chapter” before wading through the volume, and +must be extremely tantalizing to them as well.</p> + +<p>Now it so happens that I have little else to do in life +but to obey my own sweet will; no wife have I, and but +few relations, and as to them, I steadfastly believe there +is a great deal of truth in the aphorism, “relatives are +best apart.” So strongly am I convinced of this, that I +foster a fondness for peregrinating, solitarily, over the +length and breadth of England, and even for making +occasional incursions into Scotland or Wales.</p> + +<p>My income is small but ample—a cosy £500 a year—upon +which I can manage in comfort, especially as I +have adopted a novel system of living; novel, not +because it has not been carried out to a certain extent +before, but because I have made a permanent institution +of it; I am a dweller in a caravan, not merely +during the pleasant summer months, but <i>à la</i> gipsy, all +the year round; and, what is more, I thoroughly enjoy +my solitary life on wheels. I have no rates or taxes +to pay, and if I have troublesome neighbours I move;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> +in fact I am a progressive man, I am <i>always</i> on the +move.</p> + +<p>My horse and I get on admirably together: in +the summer he sleeps in meadow or lane, on heath or +common, while I sling my hammock in my roomy van; +but in the winter I stable my steed at an inn, and, as +for myself, laugh as I hear the snow-laden wind rasping +vainly at the woodwork and windows of my domicile. +I am snug and secure from any weather that may assail +me; and with my pipe, my dog, and my books, am as +comfortable and free as the Queen in her Castle at +Windsor.</p> + +<p>But all this is not my very particular <i>hobby</i>; it is +simply my mode of living, and a free, healthy, Bohemian +life it is.</p> + +<p>As I have before remarked, I have a fondness for a good +story; and I have a peculiar way of securing that article. +I do not go to a book-shelf, get down a volume, and +read a cut-and-dried version of some adventure or +incident—frequently spoiled by the opinions of the +writer, thrust willy-nilly upon the unfortunate reader—but +I go straight to the fountain-head—to the hero or +chief participator in the scenes and adventures described—and +so get my story first-hand, <i>vivâ voce</i>, from the lips +of the living narrator.</p> + +<p>In disclosing how I succeed in this I must first make a +confession; then my <i>modus operandi</i> will be at once plain.</p> + +<p>I am a hypnotist.</p> + +<p>Not a professional, séance-giving operator. I simply +took the subject up as one would any other scientific +pursuit, such as geology, botany, or electricity, +and in a couple of years became remarkably expert in +the fascinating diversion. I say <i>diversion</i> purposely,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> +as it <i>is</i> my diversion, wherever I wander during my +nomadic life.</p> + +<p>When a lad I read, and was enchanted with the +wonderful stories of <i>The Thousand and One Tales, or +Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</i>, and now that I have +arrived at years of sober discretion, I look upon it as +my undoubted right to have a story told to me by every +person I may induce to share the hospitality of my caravan.</p> + +<p>The Sultan Schahriyar was told a thousand and one +tales by his beautiful young bride Shahrazad, but as I +have no beautiful young consort to spin me nightly +yarns—which, coming from one brain, must necessarily +have had a sameness—I have recourse to persons I meet +in my peregrinations, who, after an enjoyable meal and +a pipe, allow me, as a favour, to hypnotize them. The +trance state having been induced in a very brief time, I +then exert my will-force, and request my subject to tell +me a story of anything remarkable that has happened in +his experience, or with which he was connected. By +this means I have listened to nearly as many recitals as +Schahriyar himself; some good, some commonplace, +some not worth listening to; while a few of them struck +me as being very remarkable and quite out of the +ordinary run of book stories. It is a selection from +these which I have collected in this volume.</p> + +<p>I must point out that in giving publicity to these +stories I do not betray any trust; as, apart from having +the sanction of my guests, or, as some would term them, +victims—I have so altered names, places, and dates as +to make the individuality of the narrators quite secure +from discovery and consequent annoyance.</p> + +<p>It may be asked, “Why do you go to the trouble of +hypnotizing your guests, when they would probably tell<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> +you a story without being placed under mesmeric +control?”</p> + +<p>Now I am quite aware that “The Ancient Mariner” +“stopped one of three,” because the said one was <i>unwilling</i>, +and therefore had to be fixed with his “glittering +eye,” but <i>my</i> guests are <i>willing</i> ones. They would +probably, out of courtesy to me, as host, tell me a story +in a sociable manner enough, but then, would they tell +me the whole truth? Would they not be liable to gloss +over certain incidents, to suppress others, and to add +(for the sake of embellishment) many little touches, +which, however interesting and probable, might not be +strictly veracious?</p> + +<p>Probably they would; and loving as I do to hear +a <i>true</i> story, I always prefer to hypnotize my guest, who +then gives me the facts just as they come uppermost in +his mind, and his narration is free from flourishes or any +great amount of extraneous or interpolated matter.</p> + +<p>I do not know that I have anything else of a personal +nature to place before the reader, but will commence +the first story after I have premised it by a few words +upon the narrator.</p> + +<p>Dr. Nosidy is what many persons would term “a +genius deranged.” It must, however, be remembered, that +frequently only a very thin partition divides the genius +from the madman, and one can recall the names of +many great geniuses, who in their day were looked +upon rather as lunatics than as shining lights of the +world. The Doctor, by his personal appearance and conversation, +did not in the least impress me with the idea +that he was suffering from any mental aberration, but I +must admit his remarkable story gave me grounds for +surmising, that he was either a man far in advance of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +the times, or else one who would, at no distant period, +be likely to end his career under lock and key.</p> + +<p>He was a small man with a bald head, round the +circumference of which grew a fringe of curly grey +hair. His eyes were dark and sparkling, his nose large +and aquiline, and his mouth broad and thin, indicative +of volubility and power, with perhaps some acerbity of +temper.</p> + +<p>When I explained to him my hypnotic powers he fell +in with my humour at once, and in a few minutes, being +placed in the trance state, commenced the following +curious recital, which I will call “The Strange Discovery +of Doctor Nosidy.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">I.<br> + +THE STRANGE DISCOVERY OF +DOCTOR NOSIDY.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is said proverbially, and I am quite aware of the +fact, that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and +that sharp tools should not be entrusted to the hands +of unskilled persons; and it is because some may depreciate +my knowledge, and class me among those to +whom sharp tools are a danger, both to themselves and +the community at large, that I have not placed my +discovery before the scientific world.</p> + +<p>I have no particular ambition to pose as a great genius +or inventor; the things which I have discovered are so +simple, that anybody else, following the same line of +thought, would probably have stumbled upon the same +truths. That my discoveries, placed in the hands of +profane or frivolous persons, would be fraught with +many and great evils I do not deny, and it is for this +consideration that I refrain from giving my <i>exact</i> modus +operandi in this narrative.</p> + +<p>As will be seen from a perusal of this short recital, +but little further thought and elaboration are required +to place my experiments among the most astounding +of this most marvellous age of discovery and invention.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>It is a trite expression we make use of when we say +that “Electricity is in its infancy.” Of course it is; it +is but in its swaddling clothes: but, by and by, it will +grow such a powerful fellow as to claim by right the +kingship of the whole mechanical and motive world.</p> + +<p>Now to my mind the two greatest forces in the universe +are brain power (or intellect) and electricity; and the +time is rapidly approaching when these two subtle +energies shall govern or control nearly everything under +the sun. My friends infer that if I had a little more +brain force I should not take such absurd views of these +two great <i>Souls of Man and Motion</i>, as I am pleased to +term intellect and electricity. That I am not so distraught +as my friends are pleased to suppose, may be +gathered from the outcome of those experiments which I +am now about to explain, so far at least as that can be +done without actually divulging the particular secrets +which, for the present, I wish to withhold, even from the +great <i>savants</i> of this scientific epoch. I am afraid, however, +that some reader of these lines will, if he be of a +keen, searching, inventive temperament, come in a short +time very near the borders of that discovery which it +has taken me a dozen years to experiment upon, and +place in its present unfinished form.</p> + +<p>Even when I was a lad I was a great reader and +literary delver after things which were in any way +obscure, unfinished, or apparently unfathomable; and +among the many theories I formed upon subjects of +which the world had written much, and talked more, +without advancing any nearer to their solution, was an +idea regarding the soul of man!</p> + +<p>I may say in a few words, without giving the precise +chain of thought I employed, that my idea of man’s soul<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> +was—that it was nothing more nor less than his <i>brain</i>; +for is not that the very spirit, essence, conscience, reason, +and vital principle of man?</p> + +<p>Certainly: for in what degree can even a man’s heart +compare with his brain in the supremacy it asserts over +his corporeal body? It is true that the heart is essential +to him, and has a great work to perform, and can do it +without help from his brain, even while the body and +brain sleep; but, after all, it is a mere beautiful machine—a +mechanical, monotonous slave, with nothing more to +recommend it to notice than its faithfulness to its +hidden duty.</p> + +<p>Now let me affirm at once that the brain <i>is</i> the soul, +and when you acquiesce in this, you will see more +clearly how it is worked out as a substantial truth in +my wonderful experiments, or rather, as their wonderful +<i>result</i>; experiments, which after all were but my intellectual +knowledge reduced to a reasonable system.</p> + +<p>Very well. I commenced my experiments with this +theory properly worked out in my own mind, but not +substantiated with positive proof, <i>that the soul and the +brain were synonymous</i>.</p> + +<p>Now the soul never dies—consequently the brain +never dies! It decays, and resolves itself into its constituent +atoms, but it leaves behind it what I will term +<i>brain-ether</i>, which is absolutely indestructible and immortal, +and consequently lasts through all time.</p> + +<p>Then came the thought—“If the brain-ether exists, +where shall I find it?” I wanted to know this one +thing; then I could work out the ideas I had in my +mind, following them up with experiments to prove the +correctness of my premises.</p> + +<p>Just think for a few moments of the vast encyclopædia<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +of knowledge stored in a human brain of ordinary +calibre; think of the scenes, the faces, the technical +knowledge, the music, the skill, and the secrets that +human brain contains, and which, when the body decays, +are turned into ethereal memories—memories <i>not lost</i>, +but stored up in the brain-ether for ever.</p> + +<p>Now it occurred to me, that if I could only ascertain +what became of this brain-ether as the body decayed, +that I might secure some of it, and with the help of +modern scientific apparatus, so far capture its treasury of +knowledge as to make that latent knowledge of incalculable +service to mankind.</p> + +<p>For many weeks I thought of places likely to be the +earthly resting-place of what I considered to be the +fugitive brain-ether, and, like every other mortal who +has essayed the same intellectual feat, I failed because +I had the words, “The soul has fled,” ever present +in my mind.</p> + +<p>Naturally, when a human being dies, if one says, “His +soul has fled,” the person spoken to directly assumes +that the soul has left the body, and gone no one knows +whither. But, being scientifically artful, I took an opposite +and antagonistic view of the usually accepted +answer, and said to myself:</p> + +<p>“Now suppose the soul has not fled, but is still +present in the cranium in the form of brain-ether.”</p> + +<p>This startling hypothesis I took and worked upon. +Forsaking the common theory, I resolved to see if I +could not by some means discover the brain-ether, +which I was morally certain existed <i>somewhere</i>, and +which I quite believed was as likely, or more likely, to +be found in its ordinary resting-place—the cranium—as +elsewhere.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>A recently deceased body or head was of no service +to me to experimentalize upon, as the spirit or essential +ether would not have become free till the disintegration +of the pulpy matter of the brain was complete. What +I wanted was a skeleton, or even a skull, which had +neither been opened nor tampered with; and having no +medical friends I was at a loss to know how I could +supply my want, when a lucky accident gave me just +what I required.</p> + +<p>One day I was walking through Gower Street, London, +when whom should I run against but my old friend +Stairs. Stairs is an Egyptologist, great at reading +hieroglyphics and cuneiform writing. Not having seen +each other for two years, we naturally strolled into +the Horseshoe Hotel to finish our chat in comfort, and +to lubricate our throats, which have a wonderful knack +of becoming dry when their owners meet old friends.</p> + +<p>Stairs had been away for fifteen months in Egypt +searching for any curious things having a commercial +value in England. During his wanderings in the country +of the Pharaohs, he had purchased a large number of +curios, stones, amulets, rings, sarcophagi, and mummies, +which he was now endeavouring to dispose of to the +trustees of the British Museum.</p> + +<p>After I had heard many of his adventures, it became +his turn to inquire how I was employing myself, and this +finally led to my explaining to Stairs all about my theory +of the soul. Of course, being ignorant of the matter, he +simply laughed, and suggested that I had better have +one of his mummies to experiment upon!</p> + +<p>Why not?</p> + +<p>Just the very thing; what could be better than an +ancient, unrolled mummy, some three thousand years old?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>I was positively delighted; and in furtherance of my +fancy he handed me his card, on the understanding that +I was to proceed to his house, and make a selection of +any mummy I thought would suit my purpose, take it +home with me for a month to experiment upon, and at +the end of that time return it to him.</p> + +<p>That very evening I went to my friend’s house in +Gordon Square with a small covered van, and brought +my precious Egyptian away, thankful to old Stairs for +his kindly consideration. Stairs was off to Italy for a +month, and I had his permission to do what I liked with +the mummy, so long as I did not spoil its commercial +value.</p> + +<p>When the defunct Egyptian was safely deposited in +my study I could have hugged him for very joy, but +refrained from the embrace as he smelt a trifle musty.</p> + +<p>I, Doctor Nosidy, scientist, mesmerist, thought-reader, +and electrician, felt that evening that I stood upon the +threshold of some grand discovery. The thought +thrilled me as it did Columbus when he came in sight +of the long-sought land, or Bernard Palissy when he +discovered the true mode of firing his beautiful pottery-ware, +or Galileo when he discovered the movement of +the earth. I felt the sensations of these and other +discoverers rolled into one; moreover, it was my conviction +that I was about to find something by the side +of which their discoveries would appear insignificant +indeed.</p> + +<p>Setting my apparatus in order, I commenced work by +unrolling the head of the mummy; carefully stripping +off the multitudinous layers of cerecloth, which were +permeated quite through with a dark, brittle gum or +resin of some kind. By and by I came to the leathery<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> +and gum-covered visage, wrinkled, emaciated, and black +with the dry atmosphere of thirty centuries.</p> + +<p>Dark curly hair still adhered to the skull, and was not +so brittle but that, after bathing the compressed locks, I +could lift them with the blade of a spatula quite away +from the cranium without damage. The whole head +was a very fine one—the nose prominent and hawk-like, +the eyes cavernous, and the mouth excessively +broad and grinning; the lips were so dried and compressed +that they were flat with the face. The teeth +were still white and glossy, and the entire absence of +any signs of decay proclaimed the fact that the owner +was young at his decease.</p> + +<p>All these features I noticed as I worked away upon +my subject, and having at length uncovered the whole +head, I made a small hole through the apex of the cranium +with a brad-awl. This done, I inserted, into the space +once occupied by the brain, the ends of the wires +connected with a certain electric instrument. Into the +mouthpiece of the machine I spoke, asking,</p> + +<p>“Do you hear me?”</p> + +<p>I listened, but of course no reply came.</p> + +<p>How could it?</p> + +<p>I had been much too eager to commence my work, +and of a certainty, this my first attempt could but end +in one way—in absolute failure, and that from three +causes.</p> + +<p>1st. The brain of a deceased Egyptian was removed +through the nostrils when the embalming took place.</p> + +<p>2nd. Even if the brain-ether still tenanted the cranium +the lips could form no answer to my query, as they +were so dry and parched as to have no power of +movement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>3rd. If the conditions of brain and lips were favourable, +and I really obtained a sound, it would certainly be in +the dead Egyptian tongue, which to me would be quite +unintelligible. What should I do?</p> + +<p>My defunct monarch, or whoever he might be, was +suddenly transformed into a useless incumbrance, instead +of a scientific help.</p> + +<p>Instead of hugging him for joy I could now have +beaten him as a scientific fraud.</p> + +<p>There was nothing for it but to take a day or two and +think the matter out in an intelligent and calm manner.</p> + +<p>I did think it out; and on the third day had so far +perfected my primal theory, that I resolved to give the +mummy one more chance of communicating with a +nineteenth-century scientist.</p> + +<p>Starting with the assumption that the subject would +have been dead from a few hours to a couple of +days before the embalmers would commence their process, +and that the brain being lifeless and cold, the +spirit-ether might have escaped into its bony case and +have remained in the skull after the actual brain-matter +was abstracted by the cunning embalmer and his +assistants,—I argued that it would be possible for +me to communicate with this spirit-ether, which would +still retain in an ethereal form the vast store of +knowledge which the deceased had accumulated when +on earth. In that spirit-ether would be indelibly +written, as it were, a record of the whole life of the +deceased, with all his cares and pleasures, knowledge +of contemporary events, and the haunting memory of +his sins.</p> + +<p>Assuming, I say, that this record was present in an +invisible, subtle form, how, even if I could communicate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +with the brain-ether, would it be possible to obtain a +reply?</p> + +<p>As I have said, I am a thought-reader, and my hope +was that, if my query were understood by the soul (or +brain-ether) of the mummy, I could, by the exercise of +my peculiar function of reading thought, obtain a reply.</p> + +<p>All seemed correct in theory, and to put it to the +test, I, that very evening, opened communication with +my ebony subject. One wire was inserted through the +cranium and the other, instead of being attached to a +sound receiver, I coiled several times around my own +head!</p> + +<p>Again I put the question “Do you hear me?”</p> + +<p>Nothing at first transpired; but, on repeating the +question several times, my brain became aware of the +power of thought working in the dead skull, and +this thought-voice gradually became coherent, until I +could actually detect the vibration of certain words being +formed, which were, however, not sufficiently distinct for +me to understand.</p> + +<p>My brain was quickly tired with the intense strain +of sustained thought, and, lying down on the couch, I +fell fast asleep, to dream of the land of the Pharaohs.</p> + +<p>In my dream I seemed to hear people speaking to +each other, and to see them going about their usual +avocations. I appeared in my dream to be inside the +shop of an Eastern hairdresser, where an Egyptian fop +was having his hair curled and dressed for some evening +function, possibly a ball or supper. The hairdresser +and his young patron appeared to be cracking jokes in +their native tongue, of which I could not understand a +word, but still I laughed at their jokes as heartily as +if I fathomed every quip they uttered. At length I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +laughed so loudly in my sleep at one of the barber’s +witticisms, that I awoke to find tears of merriment +streaming from my eyes.</p> + +<p>My dream had solved part of the problem!</p> + +<p>Of course the thought-words I had read, by means of +the wire round my head, were in the <i>Egyptian</i> tongue, +hence the reason for my not understanding them.</p> + +<p>Here was a dilemma!</p> + +<p>However, I did not give up my mummy; for, although +I could neither ask intelligible questions nor receive +answers that I could understand, I obtained Egyptian +<i>thoughts</i> whenever I had a mind.</p> + +<p>I kept the royal corpse for the allotted month, and +then returned it in its deal case, with a letter of thanks +to my friend in Gordon Square.</p> + +<p>A dead subject was all very well, but a <i>dead language</i> +was beyond me.</p> + +<p>So far my success was very encouraging. I had learnt, +among other things, that the soul, or brain-ether, still +tenants the skull after the substance of the brain is +entirely dissipated—provided it has not been removed +from the cavity before decay set in.</p> + +<p>With strong hopes of better success, I now resolved to +obtain an English skull and try my skill upon it.</p> + +<p>During my peregrinations in the South of England +the following week, I found myself in the neighbourhood +of X—— Cathedral, and strolling, almost unthinkingly, +into its grand interior, admired its decorations and +memorials. It was late in the day, and as in the gathering +gloaming I wandered round the solemn building, I +found myself gazing upon some curious painted coffins +containing the remains of certain of our Saxon kings. +Gazing upon them I became fascinated, for they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +suggested another step towards the realization of my +grand scheme.</p> + +<p>As I stood before these sepulchres of the long +dead, I am sorry to say the longing came into my +mind to possess a skull from one of the decorated +coffins; and presently the longing became so intense, +that, like some villainous body-snatcher, I hid myself +behind a stack of chairs in the nave, remaining there +seated comfortably on a hassock till the great bell tolled +forth the noon of night, when, coming forth from my +hiding-place, I effected my ghoulish purpose, and secreted +under my cape the cranium of a Saxon monarch.</p> + +<p>The weary hours of the night lagged in their monotonous +round, for I dared not sleep, fearing I might not +awaken before the opening of the south door for the +eight o’clock service; but my vigil was ended at last by +the arrival of a gaping old man, who came to ring the +bell calling early worshippers to the holy fane. The +entry of several persons to the building gave me an +opportunity of walking quickly out without attracting +attention, but I can scarcely describe my feelings of +shame, nor is there perhaps any need of doing so. +Necessity, the noble mother of invention, had made a +very criminal of me; but whatever loathing I had for +myself was condoned by the fact, that what I was doing +was for the sake of mankind at large; and although I +had purloined the principal part of a royal personage, I +could not look upon it as a theft, but merely as a loan +from one who had no further use for his ancient head.</p> + +<p>A few hours brought me again to the mighty metropolis, +and I quickly set to work with my elaborate +apparatus, but, alas! only to be the victim of another +disappointment.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>Although I could obtain certain mental sounds (if I +may so term them), and could, by the aid of my thought-reading +power, understand that words were being thought +by the brain-ether in the monarch’s cranium, yet, unfortunately, +to fathom their meaning was beyond me.</p> + +<p>Pure Saxon was a language with which I was totally +unacquainted!</p> + +<p>Here was another stupid mistake of mine, of precisely +the same nature as the one I made in my first experiment.</p> + +<p>What could I do?</p> + +<p>Very little.</p> + +<p>I copied down, phonetically, a number of the words +which the monarch was <i>thinking</i>, and showed them to +a professor of Anglo-Saxon, but all he could do was to +translate some of them into modern English, so giving +a series of words without any sequence or connection +whatever.</p> + +<p>Angry with myself, and angry with the skull simply +for being Saxon, and therefore not understandable, +I took it in my hand, and, in my disappointment and +rage, should doubtless have shattered it into fragments +against the wall, but for the sudden ringing of my +door bell, warning me of the arrival of a gentleman with +whom I had an appointment.</p> + +<p>When the interview was over my anger had ceased +also, and that afternoon, with the skull in a bag, I took +train for X——, and repaired to my stack of chairs in the +cathedral. I hid myself again, like a felon, till the doors +were closed, then restoring the skull uninjured to its resting-place, +crept back to my hassock seat, and awaited +the dawning.</p> + +<p>I fell asleep, and I suppose snored, for, to my +astonishment, I was awakened next morning by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> +verger, who, not believing my cock-and-bull story of +having been shut in the cathedral while absorbed in the +contemplation of the ancient structure and its interesting +relics, haled me before a magistrate.</p> + +<p>It was with difficulty I proved my identity, and doing +so cost me all the loose cash I had about me in telegraphing +to my friends, before the worthy magistrate would +release me, although I had been twice searched to see if +anything of value was secreted about my person.</p> + +<p>Oh, science! what miseries thou hast for ages +brought upon thy noblest sons! What sorrows; what +disappointments; what troubles and trials, and alas, +what terms of vile durance! I, being one of thy sons, +have shared all these evils, though perhaps in a minor +degree!</p> + +<p>My failures, however, were not unmitigated: I had +established the fact that brain-ether and brain-thought +were present in skulls, whatever their nationality, and +to whatever period they might belong; my failures were +attributable principally to my lack of linguistic knowledge, +a lack that might easily be remedied.</p> + +<p>My business now became to seek a skull of a more +modern period. I applied at a number of likely places, +and at last was successful in obtaining a fine, large +specimen, which had a clean and refined appearance. +I paid but a small sum for it, and carried it home to my +study in triumph. Surely at last I was on the road to +the development of my pet project.</p> + +<p>After dinner, all being quiet, I commenced experiments +upon the skull, and having placed my apparatus in +order, I asked my usual question:</p> + +<p>“Who are you?”</p> + +<p>“Sidney Smith,” came the reply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>Good gracious, I thought, can this be the great wit?</p> + +<p>“You do not mean to say,” I asked, “that you are the +great Sidney Smith?”</p> + +<p>“I reckon you have just hit the right nail on the head,” +was the immediate thought-reply.</p> + +<p>What a piece of luck.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Smith, such men as you the world sees but +too rarely; your name is still a household word among +us, being constantly quoted as that of the brightest star +of wit of your day.”</p> + +<p>“Whip you mean?” came from the skull.</p> + +<p>“No; I said <i>wit</i>; a jocular person, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I ain’t no wit nor jocular person,” was the response, +“not as I knows what ‘jocular’ is exactly, but if it is +anything to do with a jockey it’s nothing to do with +me, for I stood six feet four, and weighed seventeen +stone. If you calls me a ‘whip’ instead of a ‘wit,’ there +you are right, for I drove the York and Manchester +coach for over twenty years.”</p> + +<p>I found my subject very garrulous, very thick-headed, +and very quarrelsome—a man of high stature but low +breeding; one who knew nothing of any subjects but +those of a horsey nature. One day our conversation +became so warm, and such a string of bad language +flooded the fellow’s brain-ether, that I had to disconnect +my battery. I left the cranium for some days, thinking +that the man’s temper would have cooled down, for I +supposed that when I disconnected the electric wires +the current of thought ceased; but when I applied the +wires to my head, I found that the old store of abuse +was still at work in the brain-ether of my giant subject, +and the end of the matter was, that I smashed the +beautiful skull into a thousand fragments against my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +study wall, thus dissipating the soul or brain-ether into +space.</p> + +<p>I did not regret the occurrence, for the fellow was +most vituperative and impertinent whenever I wished +to know anything of his family secrets or earthly career.</p> + +<p>Still, when I think of it, I have a deal for which to +thank that giant skull. It was during the fortnight +that I possessed it that I, to a great extent, perfected my +apparatus for Soul-Reading, Brain-Ether-Reviewing, +Etherealized-Human-Record-Deciphering, or whatever +men may term my discovery, for I have not yet invented +a title for it myself.</p> + +<p>I therefore thank that broken vase of humanity, +though being broken, I cannot convey my thanks as I +would wish, for there is no brain-ether left to convey it to.</p> + +<p>Alas, poor giant!</p> + +<p>Hundreds of skulls have come under my apparatus +for examination during the past decade, and I possess +facts that would make many great English families +quake; facts asserted by ancestors’ souls—<i>and souls +cannot lie</i>—of how titles and estates have been wrongfully +obtained, and rightful heirs darkly put aside to +favour other candidates.</p> + +<p>I know of facts, suppressed in history, which, were I +to reveal their dark catalogue of murders, conspiracies +and political intrigues, would put a fresh interpretation +upon the records of our country. But of what avail +would the disclosure be to our present generation? The +heart of man in the nineteenth century is, what it has +been in all ages, “desperately wicked.”</p> + +<p>On the other hand, it has been my good fortune +to converse with kings and ambassadors, with men +of learning, poets, statesmen, with artists and men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> +of science, even with the great Isaac Newton himself, +and am now in the position of being the best-informed +man, upon past history and events, of any person in the +world. Men say there is but a thin partition between +a savant and a madman. I know better; I may be the +former, but between me and madness a vast gap yawns, +although my friends will have their little jibe at me. +Great men ever had their traducers, and I, naturally, am +no exception.</p> + +<p>Of all those with whom I have chatted—and by my +experiments I can converse with the spirit or soul of +<i>any</i> person, provided I have the skull to which I can +attach my apparatus—there has not been one equal in +intellectual capacity to Sir Isaac Newton, a most +steady, solid man of scientific sense.</p> + +<p>Now Newton’s idea of the brain and my own precisely +coincide, and if I give <i>my</i> notion upon the subject I +give his also. Here it is.</p> + +<p>The brain is an elaborate storehouse of knowledge of +every kind. It contains a record of <i>all</i> one has learned +during one’s lifetime; I say <i>all</i>, because if a person has +learned a thing and forgotten it, it must not be supposed +that that thing has vanished from the brain; not so; it +is faithfully recorded in the brain substance, though the +mental faculties may not be strong enough to <i>reproduce</i> +the particular thing or theme when wanted.</p> + +<p>Not only is everything once learnt retained by the +brain, but it also contains a record of every <i>action</i> of +one’s life. All these actions and events are stored +away in minute cells to the number of hundreds of +thousands, and yet to the human eye they are not as +visible as a pin’s point; in fact, they have no dimensions +whatever.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>Now, supposing this theory to be correct, can we not +see (and I say it with great reverence) how easy the +task of the Recording Angel must be; can we not +imagine the celestial one reading the record of a man’s +brain as easily as we poor mundane mortals can scan a +book?</p> + +<p>Are not many biblical texts elucidated by this theory; +for instance, Ecclesiastes xii. 14; Matthew xii. 37; and +Hebrews iv. 13?</p> + +<p>But then the theory of the brain-ether, or the soul as +some call it, goes further. I am of opinion that the +soul is not <i>spirit</i> but <i>matter</i>; matter of such infinitely +minute particles as to be perfectly invisible to even the +most powerful microscope yet made.</p> + +<p>Let me explain my meaning more fully.</p> + +<p>Just as there are differences in the bulk and solidity +of various materials, so is there a vast difference in the +tangibility, if I may so term it, of various bodies and +substances.</p> + +<p>Take a cubic foot of steel—matter beyond all doubt—and +of what closely-compacted solidity and enormous +density! Then take a cubic foot of smoke, that again is +matter, but what immeasurable difference in density, +tangibility, and even visibility there is in the two +substances!</p> + +<p>Then go a step further, and imagine a cubic foot of +gas: it is invisible, intangible, and possesses but little +density, yet it is <i>matter</i>, it is not spirit.</p> + +<p>Now, seeing the vast difference between various matters, +can we not believe that the brain, instead of being +soul or spirit, may still be matter of such a rare and subtle +quality that there is even more difference between it and +gas, than between gas and a solid lump of steel or granite?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>If you can follow that suggestion you have my theory; +but having spoken of my theory I go no farther. Of +what my apparatus consists I have merely hinted, not +mentioning one or two of its principal conditions. My +secret is of such vast importance that it would go a +great way to revolutionize science, history, and even +religion, and I dare not divulge it to the world at large. +The more I think over the matter, the more convinced +I am that my experiments have so lifted the veil of +death, that I have stepped within the bounds of things +which should be unknown to man.</p> + +<p>I have passed the Rubicon of the supernatural!</p> + +<p>I tremble at my own temerity.</p> + +<p>I have now but one Gordian knot to sever. Shall my +secret die with me, and so save the civilized world much +anxiety, or shall I divulge it to a small coterie of the +world’s greatest philosophers, and allow them to work +upon and improve my ideas, so that they may benefit +mankind, without revealing the secret power, which in +profane hands would prove but a curse?</p> + +<p>For the present the secret shall remain <i>mine alone</i>, but +what I may decide to do with it in the future, who knows?</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It is not every day that one has an opportunity of +receiving a millionaire as a guest, and to have the +privilege of hypnotizing one is a still rarer thing, yet +both these experiences have been mine at one and the +same time, and I will relate how it happened.</p> + +<p>I was staying for a few days on the Cornish coast, and +had drawn my van far on to the beach, by the side of a +rivulet which, coming down from low neighbouring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> +hills, murmured and tumbled along its rocky bed until +it lost itself in the immeasurable sea.</p> + +<p>My van was placed near some rocky cliffs, in such a +position as to be snug and secluded, and yet so as to +retain a view up the lovely valley through which the +little river sparkled and foamed. I selected the spot +because of its quietude and beauty; I do not care for +the annoyance of children, or the obtrusive curiosity of +their elders, when they can easily be avoided by a little +forethought.</p> + +<p>Once or twice I noticed a tall, middle-aged gentleman +roaming quietly among the rocks and pools left by the +low tide, and on one occasion passed the seal of day +with him in a casual manner; but, as he seemed to be of +a retiring disposition, I did not attempt to force my +company upon him, and passed on.</p> + +<p>One day I sat on a rock observing a wonderful storm-clouded +sky; I watched the great, massive, vapour clouds +rolling in from the west, growing blacker and denser +each minute. I noticed the hush of the air and the +subsidence of the wind, and so did the little birds, for +they flew twittering overhead to hide themselves from +the approaching storm. Then from the clouds burst the +vivid zig-zags of lightning, and the accompanying roar of +crashing thunder, gradually coming nearer and nearer, +more frequent and louder. Presently, with a sudden blast, +the wind came hurtling down with startling force and +fury, licking up the sand and shingle as it drove along; +and behind it came the rain, first a few sparse drops, +then a full downpour, and finally a rushing torrent.</p> + +<p>This drove me into the welcome shelter of my van; +but although I securely closed the door it could not +keep, from my startled ears, the thunder crashes, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> +they reverberated and rolled among the stupendous +granite cliffs of the coast. My van shook, and my eyes +were blinded by several intense flashes of the discharged +electric element, which lighted up the wet rocks and the +wind-swept pools with a luridly grand but awful effect.</p> + +<p>The cliffs appeared as if they were being shattered +and tumbled piecemeal to the shingle below, when an +unmistakable tap, tap, tap rattled upon my door, and +I fancied I heard a voice, but the crashing and roaring +noises around me were so great that I paused before +opening the door for a repetition of the sound. Indeed +my nerves were strung up to such an intense pitch that, +when the taps were repeated in a louder manner, I felt +afraid to open, for fear of letting in some weird spirit of +the storm.</p> + +<p>Nervous, however, as I felt, I arose, and at the door, +craving my van’s humble shelter, was the silent gentleman +I had spoken to a day or two previously. I +welcomed him in, but he was already wet to the skin. +That did not at all matter; I had plenty of dry clothes, +which fitted him like his own—both his and my inches +being more than those allotted to the average mortal.</p> + +<p>In an hour the storm was over, the sun once more +shone brilliantly over the heaving waters, while the +larks rose warbling in the air, carolling their hymn of +praise for the return of the welcome sunshine.</p> + +<p>My guest accepted my invitation to stay and dine +with me, and I found him a very pleasant companion. +He helped me to prepare and cook the meal, and in the +interval we played cribbage, smoked, and chatted.</p> + +<p>He had come down to Cornwall, he informed me, to +escape from his friends and mankind in general, for, +having inherited some money, he was worried and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> +pestered on all sides by impecunious persons and institutions; +and to come to a place where he was unknown +was his only means of obtaining a little peace, “far from +the madding crowd.”</p> + +<p>Of course I brought hypnotism upon the <i>tapis</i> during +dinner, and after the meal was discussed, he requested +me to try my hand upon him, which of course I gladly +did, with the result of obtaining from him the following +story of “Two Ruined Towers.”</p> + +<p>I must here point out that, though while in a hypnotic +trance I can cause my patient to tell me a story, yet +when at its conclusion I awaken him, he does not remember +a word of what he has divulged, and I do +not on all occasions enlighten him; for, as I am at +times the recipient of most remarkable family secrets, +crimes, and misdeeds, I dare not commit to print a tithe +of what is related to me.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">II.<br> + +TWO RUINED TOWERS.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> about three-and-twenty years of age I had the +misfortune to lose my father, an event which altered the +whole course of my life, and nearly unhinged my mind. +My father was an artist of some repute, and as I also loved +the work, I had an ardent wish to follow in his footsteps.</p> + +<p>At seventeen I left school, and immediately commenced +my artistic studies under my father. I also +became a student at the —— Art School, at which, +when I was about twenty years of age, I had the good +fortune to gain a travelling scholarship of £100 a year +for two years. The first summer I spent in the British +Isles, eking out my scholarship money with the help of +a small allowance from my good parent.</p> + +<p>The winter I spent in my father’s studio, and in +the following spring packed up my few belongings, +and bidding my father farewell, travelled to various +parts of the continent, making my way gradually south +as the cold weather approached. Thus, roving about, +I picked up a fair knowledge of two or three languages, +and when my time of travel expired, found myself in +Sicily, from whence, crossing over to Naples, I spent +my last few pounds in procuring a passage home on a +P. & O. steamer bound for dear old England.</p> + +<p>On my arrival I lost no time in sending a telegram to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> +my father, advising him that he might expect me on +the following day. I kept my word, and arrived at +the time I had mentioned, but, alas! I found my dear +old father on a sick-bed, and was only just in time to +bid him a long farewell, for he died two days after my +return home.</p> + +<p>The shock was so great to my nervous system that +I too became ill, and for a long time was in grave +danger, hovering between life and death, but, by careful +nursing and skilful medical treatment, I eventually +pulled through. My nerves were greatly shaken at the +awful home-coming I had experienced, and the knowledge +that I had not written to my father for three +weeks previous to coming to England, so that he might +know where to address me, preyed greatly upon my +mind. I could not help thinking that, had my father been +able to communicate with me, I might have returned +sooner, and by so doing have possibly saved his life. +I felt somehow guilty of a kind of moral parricide, +and blamed myself for all that had happened.</p> + +<p>It was more than I could bear to enter the studio; +everything about the place served to call up memories +of the past; even the trees around the old house seemed +to whisper as I walked beneath them, “ingrate.”</p> + +<p>I could not bear it.</p> + +<p>I felt hysterical and delirious, talking and groaning +in my sleep; and during the day roaming about the +house like one distraught.</p> + +<p>The doctor diagnosed the case at once, and told me +plainly that I must choose one of two things—a lunatic +asylum or foreign travel.</p> + +<p>Feeling his opinion to be a sound one, I naturally +chose the latter alternative.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>Once more I packed up my impedimenta and crossed +to Dieppe, from whence I wandered, without any +decided route, across France into Switzerland, from +thence making my way gradually southward into Italy.</p> + +<p>I sketched and painted, selling several of my drawings +to tourists who happened to see me at work, and, +I suppose, admired my productions. Painting and +wandering were my day amusements, but at night I +had another source of relaxation and forgetfulness, and +that was my flute. Upon this instrument I played +fairly well, and it was my constant practice, whenever +I was in a favourable place, after my evening +meal, to bring forth my instrument and set the +peasants dancing. They loved to hear the merry +English airs, and became quite excited over the various +dance tunes I played them. Minuets, jigs, strathspeys, +reels, and hornpipes, all found favour with them, and +their attempts to keep step with the more lively +measures were sure to bring forth a deal of good-natured +banter, mirth, and merriment. I always placed a tin +cup at my feet, into which the dancers could drop a +small coin if they felt so disposed, and this little collection +I invariably gave to relieve any case of distress or +poverty in the village. The poor peasants looked upon +me as a very strange fellow, for they could not understand +why it was I played for money and then gave it +all away again, sometimes adding to the fund from my +own somewhat slender purse.</p> + +<p>Thus I wandered, week after week, as fancy led me, +being sure of a good reception in each village I stopped +at, for my fame as an artist-musician preceded me, and +wherever I stayed for the night a crowd would invariably +assemble outside my window, ready for me to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> +step out flute in hand when I had finished my evening +meal.</p> + +<p>One day I found a peculiarly effective “bit” to +transfer to my canvas. It was a lonely, mountainous +district I was in, and I had tumbled across some finely-coloured +rocks, picturesquely-disposed trees, a ruined +chapel, and a turbulent, dashing, little waterfall.</p> + +<p>I unstrapped my light-folding easel and set to work. +It was a beautiful day, and I toiled on for several +hours, singing and whistling quietly to keep myself in +countenance and spirits, for I did not see a soul in +this lonely spot.</p> + +<p>At last I began to grow tired of my painting, and, +as the shadows were beginning to lengthen, I packed +up, and was about to foot it to the nearest village some +four miles distant, when, mingled with the peculiar +noises made by the sound of falling water, I fancied I +could hear the moaning either of a human being or +some animal, apparently in great distress or pain.</p> + +<p>Listening, I caught the sound of what I took to be +a faint groan!</p> + +<p>I placed my kit upon the ground and looked around. +At first I could see nothing; but after a moment’s +search I discovered an old man sitting among the rocks, +moaning and groaning at some serious injury he had +apparently received.</p> + +<p>Forgetting where I was, I addressed the old man in +English.</p> + +<p>“Hallo, old fellow, what’s amiss with you?”</p> + +<p>He suddenly brought me to myself by replying in +good English (although spoken with a foreign accent), +and informing me that whilst sitting under a rocky +cliff, contemplating the beautiful solitude, a large<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> +portion of stone had become detached, and rolling upon +his foot, had severely crushed and cut it.</p> + +<p>He was a man apparently seventy years of age, with +an aquiline nose, piercing dark eyes, whose depth and +brilliancy were enhanced by the whiteness of his over-hanging +eyebrows, and a fine flowing white beard. All +this I took in with an artist’s eye, and made a mental +note not to lose an opportunity, by and by, of painting +such a wonderfully fine head, if the old man would +allow me.</p> + +<p>I tore up my pocket-handkerchief, bound up the +poor crushed foot, after bathing it with cool water from +the river, and set my old friend, who was profuse in his +thanks, upon his feet. I ought perhaps say foot, for +he could not place his injured foot to the ground, and +consequently was unable to walk. I was in a dilemma; +the nearest village being a smart hour’s walk away, +down in the valley.</p> + +<p>“Cheer up, father,” said I; “allow me to try and +carry you a little; possibly we may meet some one as +we descend the road.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, my son,” the old man replied, “leave me. +Perhaps after a rest I may be able to put my foot to +the ground and proceed on my way.”</p> + +<p>“No, that will never do, old gentleman; do you not +know that wolves haunt these rocky heights, and would +probably devour you in the night if you were left here +by yourself and unarmed?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, a sweet death, my son, but, alas! wolves cannot +harm me.”</p> + +<p>I looked at him in amazement as he uttered these +words, but concluded the pain had made him somewhat +delirious and wild in his talk. Then I took him in my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> +strong young arms and carried him down the rugged +path, halting every now and again to recover breath +and rest my aching limbs; for, although my burden was +but a bag of bones, still, on a rough mountain path, his +weight began to tell before I had gone a mile, and I +feared I should become exhausted long before we +reached the village whither we were bound.</p> + +<p>Again and again I lifted the old man and carried him +onward, but each time I noticed the distance was less +than the previous effort had covered, and after struggling +on for a couple of miles, I was forced to give in for a +long spell of rest. We were now down upon the plain, +and the sun was fast approaching the horizon, when my +eye suddenly lighted upon an ox feeding in a little +green hollow a couple of hundred yards off. Knowing +that in Southern Europe oxen, to a great extent, take +the place of horses, I approached it; feeling sure that +if it were an ox broken to work, I could give my +old friend a comfortable ride to the village upon its +ample back.</p> + +<p>The animal stood and stared at me with its great soft +eyes, and I stared back in return, but having no knowledge +of the handling of cattle, I was at a loss to know +what to do next. It was an intelligent-looking creature, +so I coaxingly spoke to it in English, trusting that if its +education had not been neglected it might understand +that I meant it no harm. I took it by one of its horns, +and, to my joy, the gentle beast was good enough to +follow me; and as it did so I looked at its neck and +could see where the yoke had galled it, by which I knew +it was used for agricultural purposes.</p> + +<p>We soon got to understand each other, and when I +lifted the old man on its back, and supported him there,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +the ox moved off quietly to the village, which we reached +just as the light had passed through that stage which +poets and learned men call crepuscular.</p> + +<p>We found a comfortable inn, and there I attended +the old man for two or three days; but I must own my +attention was not altogether due to philanthropic +motives, as I spent much of each day in painting the +grand old head of my patient. As I painted, so the old +man talked; and I soon discovered he had a wonderful +memory, especially for historic subjects: he appeared +to have the history of Europe and Western Asia at his +fingers’ ends. He would have made a splendid historian, +for he could remember not only the chief events of the +subject he happened to speak upon, but a great many +of the minor details which go to make up an important +episode in history.</p> + +<p>His conversation thrilled me, and during some of his +vivid recitals I ceased painting, and sat down to listen +as one spellbound. He commenced with the struggles +of the early Christians, graphically described the decline +of the Roman power, and the rise of the Northern and +Western nations.</p> + +<p>Then he became eloquent upon the Conquest of England, +knowing that I was a native of that land, and so +minutely described the field of Hastings, that one might +have imagined he had been an eyewitness. He spoke +of the persons of William and Harold, the weapons +and armour used, and could answer my queries so +exactly, that I began to fear there was something +decidedly uncanny about my model. From the Conquest +he took me, in thought and word, right through +the Crusades, and with sparkling eyes described the +principal actors on the bloody fields of Holy Land, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> +when describing the prowess and fierceness in battle +of our Richard Cœur de Lion, he became so excited +in his recital, that, despite his injured foot, he rose from +his couch in the centre of the room, and taking up a +mahl-stick, struck and thrust in all directions, to explain +to me how he of the lion’s heart bore himself.</p> + +<p>I was speechless with amazement; my crippled patient +was dancing about the room with the vigour of a youth +of twenty, quite regardless of the mangled foot, which +apparently gave him but little concern, and less pain.</p> + +<p>“My friend,” I exclaimed loudly, “your foot!—think +of your injuries! Your description is wonderful, magnificent, +but do not forget your crippled state!”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” he returned, “seven times seven have passed +over me, and my foot is perfect again. See!”</p> + +<p>Saying which he tore off the bandages, and exhibited +to my startled eyes a foot without even a scar.</p> + +<p>I now began to feel a strange fear creeping over me, +and I asked him what he meant by “seven times seven +passing over him?” To which question, as near as I +can recollect, his reply was this.</p> + +<p>“My friend, I will tell you what my meaning is, on +one condition—that for three months from now you +will not divulge a word of what I am about to speak to +you. If you do, may the burden of your insincerity be +on your own head! You have proved yourself a friend +to a stranger, and the fact of your not knowing whom +you have assisted, makes your act one of greater charity, +and your kindness, like that of the Good Samaritan in +my young days, shall be rewarded ere we part.”</p> + +<p>What, I thought, does he mean by the Good Samaritan +of his youth? I knew of but one: he of whom we read +in the New Testament parable; and I was about to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +ask him the meaning of this second enigma, when he +motioned me not to interrupt, and proceeded with his +remarkable monologue.</p> + +<p>“By ‘seven times seven’ I mean, that although an +accident may befall me, as it may any other man, yet, +after seven times seven hours have passed away, I shall +be sound again.</p> + +<p>“I am keenly sensible to pain and to all human +feelings, but <i>I cannot know death</i>!</p> + +<p>“No, between death and myself a gulf has been fixed +by my Master, and though corporeal pain may for seven +times seven hours rack and torture me, I am at the end +of that period whole again, even though I were wounded +ten times fatally.</p> + +<p>“I am the deathless one!”</p> + +<p>At the aspect and demeanour of my weird companion +I could have shrieked with fear; his eyes were incandescent +in their blazing lustre, and the locks of his +beard and hair writhed to my astonished eyes like the +living locks of a Gorgon.</p> + +<p>“The stories I told you of past centuries were no +mere tales gathered from books, but were from my own +personal observations.</p> + +<p>“I stood in Rome when it was in flames; I saw with +these very eyes the martyrdom of the early Christians; I +walked through the length and breadth of Europe while +Rome, with all its power and glories, was passing away. +At Hastings I stood beside brave Harold, when a short +arrow, taking him in the eye, pierced brain and skull, +and he fell dead beside me. I have seen the Saracens +fall like mast in the autumn before the trained arms of +the bold Crusaders; and when Napoleon’s army fled +from Moscow I too followed them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>“I have felt the fierce rays of the Eastern sun and the +biting winds and frost of dreary Lapland.</p> + +<p>“I have courted dangers and death in all forms, but +here, after centuries, I stand before you a living mortal +covered with the cloak of immortality.”</p> + +<p>“Heaven help you, poor man!” I cried; “you must +be distraught; mayhap much learning has weakened +your brain. Rest, good father, I implore you. Rest on +this couch, you will be better soon.”</p> + +<p>“Rest, rest!!” he wildly exclaimed, “there is no rest +for me, nay, not even in the peaceful grave. Often and +often have I stood in Death’s path, and have felt the icy +coldness of his breath, but, alas! he has ever passed me +by unheeded.”</p> + +<p>“Surely,” said I, “you do not tell me that you are he +who is doomed to walk this rolling earth till the +Master bids thy penance be no more?”</p> + +<p>“Ay,” he replied, “I am he—he whom men, without +knowing my true name, call ‘The Wandering +Jew’!”</p> + +<p>I could scarcely believe my senses. Was the man +mad? or was I mad? or was it all a phantasy of my +brain?</p> + +<p>My guest held out his hand to me, which I mechanically +clutched; then drawing me to the couch, we sat +down together.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, my young friend, for the shock I have +caused you. Your kindness has touched my heart, and +for that kindness I will repay you, as in times +past I have occasionally rewarded others of my true +friends.</p> + +<p>“Now,” he continued, lowering the tone of his voice +to a kindly pitch, “I dare say you have read of a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> +certain mighty personage, who, in the early days of +Christianity, was returning with great spoils from a +neighbouring country, when he was hard beset by the +enemy, who, with allies, followed close upon his heels; +and how to save the vast treasures he had taken, turned +aside the course of a certain river, and at dead of night +buried his spoils there, deflecting the river to its true +course again ere daydawn.”</p> + +<p>I bowed assent.</p> + +<p>“Now,” he continued, “I know the country where this +took place, and can not only point out the very river, but +the identical spot in the river where that treasure still +lies hidden. Have you the perseverance, vigour, and +endurance to bring that vast hoard to the light of day +again? If so it shall be yours!”</p> + +<p>Hardly knowing what I was saying I replied in the +affirmative, and after further conversation we retired +for the night.</p> + +<p>We stayed a day or two longer at the inn to procure +mules and other necessaries, and then rode off upon our +distant quest.</p> + +<p>After weeks of wandering through mountains and +valleys we came to a river which flowed through a +beautifully diversified country; hilly, rocky, and well +clothed with trees and luxurious foliage.</p> + +<p>Riding along the river’s bank we came to a very lonely +spot,—a long glen—through which the river peacefully +flowed in meandering curves and foaming falls. The end +of the valley broadened out into a level plain of considerable +extent, and in the midst of this plain stood the +crumbling remains of two ancient towers, of which little +more than the foundations remained.</p> + +<p>“Here,” said my guide, “we halt; there lies our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +treasure,” saying which he pointed to the deep, silent +stream flowing between the two massive towers.</p> + +<p>“Now,” he continued, “you must follow out the plan +I have devised for regaining the wealth which lies +hidden there, and carry out everything just as I desire +you.</p> + +<p>“At the small town of Y—— hard by lives the +owner of this land. You will assume the character of a +wealthy but eccentric (or partly mad) Englishman. You +are enchanted with the beautiful views in the glen +yonder, and wish to stay here for a long period, to paint +pictures and to generally enjoy yourself. You would like +a two-roomed cottage built near one of the towers, that +you may live and sleep amid the scenery you so love to +depict. You will pay liberally.</p> + +<p>“That is all I ask you to do. We will proceed at once +to the town and make these very necessary arrangements. +I am your mentor, your tutor, should prying people +desire to know why an old man accompanies you.</p> + +<p>“At Alexandria I have a friend, to whom I must +write for certain necessary implements to be sent to us, +without which it will be in vain to attempt our quest. +To procure these implements shall be <i>my</i> task. They +must be sent to the nearest port, and thence may easily +be brought here on the backs of mules.</p> + +<p>“D—— is the nearest port, and there my friend Isaac +Susha is harbour-master; on my bidding he will send the +goods here, free from all observation or suspicion. In the +mean time our little house will be building, and you can +amuse yourself with your painting, while I elaborate my +plans and ply my angling rod, for there is much fish in +this river. I shall make an ideal fisherman, for a flowing +beard points to the contemplative man, and your true<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> +angler is certainly of a contemplative mind; such a +man was your English Izaak Walton.”</p> + +<p>In due course the little house was built, and the implements +or goods, supposed to be furniture, etc., arrived +in six heavy cases borne on the backs of mules. The muleteers +were paid and dismissed, and in a short time people +ceased to regard us as a kind of show, and we were left +in peace and quietness, except for an occasional couple +who would stroll along in the evening to look at the mad +Englishman and his keeper! Now and again an old +shepherd, whose flocks nibbled the juicy pasture of the +plain, would come and pay his respects to us, and watch +the picture growing on my canvas; but after nightfall +we were never disturbed, for the people of the district +were very superstitious; and as the towers had the +reputation of being haunted, we were free from all interruption +after dark.</p> + +<p>I unscrewed the packing-cases, and found they contained +sundry articles of furniture, such as folding-chairs, +folding iron bedsteads, cutlery, culinary ware, etc.; but +in one of the cases was a complete diving suit, helmet, +overalls, tubing, lead weight, heavy boots, and everything +that a diver requires, even to a submarine lantern. +Another case contained an air pump, extra tubing, crowbars, +and sundry gear.</p> + +<p>My old friend chuckled with delight at my surprise, and +his eyes sparkled as we commenced putting the apparatus +together.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said he, “the inhabitants of this country are, +as you know from the legend of the haunted towers +which you have heard, very suspicious, and probably +we shall have some official or other, making it his business +to call upon us occasionally, to see what is going on,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> +and it will never do to let him see the pump and diving +apparatus, or we should at once be haled before some +dignitary, and charged with having dealings with the +Evil One. Now I have a proposition to make, which is +this—our bedroom lies next the river, and I suggest that +beneath the floor we hollow out a small chamber, about +seven feet square, in which we can keep both the pump +and diving suit from observation, so that at whatever time +during the day any one chooses to call, nothing will be +in view to betray us.”</p> + +<p>“Agreed!” I exclaimed; “a capital proposal; we will +set to work this very night. We will excavate, and as +we dig up the earth I will carry it in a basket to the +river’s brink and throw it in.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said the ancient Jew, “I will delve, and +you shall be the beast of burden, as you suggest, for you +are the stronger man.”</p> + +<p>“But,” I queried, “as you delve beneath the surface +you will find it very wet, you will catch your death from +cold, and have your limbs set fast with rheumatism.”</p> + +<p>The old Jew laughed and replied, “Death—pah! You +forget, my friend, who I am. Come, let us commence.”</p> + +<p>I looked at my wonderful old comrade and +shuddered.</p> + +<p>In a fortnight we had our secret room prepared, and +everything was ready to commence our search.</p> + +<p>The Jew had informed me that the two towers were +built by the great General, some weeks after the treasure +was hidden, at a time when he had reasserted his +power, and was once more in possession of the country +hereabouts. In the towers he placed watchmen and +tax-gatherers, whose duty it was to levy toll from each +vessel passing up or down the river; at least this was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> +what he gave forth, but it was in reality to guard the +treasure lying buried in the bed of the river, which at +a convenient time he purposed recovering.</p> + +<p>For some years he was harassed by the enemy, and +at length died, whereupon the enemy retook the country, +and the new ruler, not being aware of the treasure +buried in the river, carried on the custom of demanding +toll, as he considered it a capital institution.</p> + +<p>Years went by, men and manners changed, and the +towers were neglected and fell into decay; but around +the hoary ruins many curious legends gathered, and +among others one which came very near the truth, as +it told of an ancient king, who, in flight, being hard +pressed by his pursuers, was in such haste to cross the +river that the boat was overset, the king and many +others drowned, and a great deal of valuable <i>spoil lost +in the river</i>.</p> + +<p>The Jew smiled at this particular story, and +remarked that although, like the legend, his was only +hearsay, yet, as he received his account first-hand +from a friend who was <i>an eyewitness</i> of the diversion +of the river and the subsequent burial of the treasure, +there could be but little romance about his version, +which he averred was solid, substantial fact.</p> + +<p>“Now,” he observed in conclusion, “I am positive +that the treasure was buried midway between those +two towers, but whether after the flight of all these +centuries we shall find it, or in what form we shall find +it, I cannot say; but if you are willing we will make +the search, and if successful the whole shall be yours; +I require nothing! The mere search is ample reward +for me, as it serves to break the monotony of my +existence.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>We commenced diving operations in a very timid +manner, or at least I did, for although I had witnessed +divers at work, I had never before had any actual +experience; still, as the Jew said, “There was no +hurry.”</p> + +<p>The first few nights were spent in fitting up the +apparatus, in making experimental dives, and in +concocting a signal code that we might understand +each other, etc.</p> + +<p>The sensation of submarine diving has so often been +described that I will not attempt to state what my +feelings were at the outset of the operations; suffice it +to say that they were far from pleasant, but with +practice I soon became expert, especially as the +deepest part of the water was not more than twenty +feet, so that I did not suffer much from compression.</p> + +<p>I quickly discovered that the bed of the river was +somewhat muddy, that is to say, there was a deposit +of several inches of mud or soft earth, resting upon +a substratum of gravel. In some parts large beds of +weeds were to be seen sailing their long fronds upward +to a height of several feet: these I quickly cut away, +and with great labour at length succeeded in clearing +away the upper layer of soft ooze nearly from +bank to bank, and for a width of perhaps twenty +yards near the centre.</p> + +<p>We worked four “turns” per night of an hour each, +with an interval of half-an-hour between each dive, +so that we were occupied from 10 p.m. till 4 a.m., when +we went to bed and slept till 10 o’clock, beside obtaining +several little daylight snoozes when all was quiet. +The Sunday was to us a true Sabbath, and no manner +of work was done, not even cooking; we reserved that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> +day for prayer, meditation, conversation, and much-needed +rest.</p> + +<p>We had now been working for six whole weeks, but +though everything was in perfect working order, and +the river-bed was being cleared, we had no more knowledge +of the exact location of the spoil than when we +arrived three months previously.</p> + +<p>The real toil now commenced; for digging in the +river-bed had to be undertaken at depths varying +from fifteen to twenty feet beneath the surface. +To dig on dry land a hole of four or five feet in +depth is a comparatively easy task, but to dig a hole +of like depth <i>under water</i> is a most arduous undertaking, +a task requiring strength, perseverance, and +much patience. Tools used under water are difficult +to manage, and by reason of the resistance of the +water lose half their efficacy. For instance, a strong +man wielding a heavy hammer under water, although +he may strive his hardest, and exert his full strength, +can only make his blow of the same force that a child +of ten could strike on <i>terra firma</i>, because the water +resists his arm and the fall of the hammer, in proportion +to the area of surface of his arms and the +implement. I also found that when using a spade I +could only remove a portion of a spadeful each time, +as the current and swirl of water floated the lighter +particles off, leaving only the heavier pieces upon the +blade of the spade; thus digging holes in the expectation +of finding the treasure was a wearisome task, +especially as I had to cease my work at frequent +intervals, to allow the turbid water, thick with sediment, +to become clear enough for me to see what I +was about. Thus toiling on, another five weeks passed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> +wearily away, without the least trace of our quest being +discovered.</p> + +<p>The Jew at length began to weary of pumping air +to me, and I of diving and delving, so we resolved to +take a few days’ rest, and decide what further steps we +should take in our search.</p> + +<p>The river was about forty yards wide, and although I +had sunk about a dozen pits in the bed of the stream, I +had discovered absolutely nothing.</p> + +<p>I thought the matter carefully over each day, but +could only come to the conclusion that we were either +searching in the wrong place, or that the treasure had +long since been washed away and lost. Still, I could +not imagine how even the swiftest torrent could affect +or move anything buried beneath the river-bed at a +depth of four or five feet. Then it struck me that earthquakes +were not unknown in the region, and a shock +might have caused an upheaval of the river-bed, by +which the treasure might have been exposed and washed +away centuries ago by some unusually heavy flood. If +this had happened, was it not also probable that the +stumps of the two towers would have been rent and +cracked in many places?</p> + +<p>Certainly it was.</p> + +<p>I therefore examined the ruined towers, but their +foundations were perfect, save for a few superficial fractures. +I thereupon concluded that my earthquake +theory was not tenable.</p> + +<p>I next examined the banks on each side of the river, +especially the portion immediately <i>between the towers and +the water</i>, and found that on one side, the side farthest +from our hut or cottage, solid rock formed the +principal part of the bank. From the tower on that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> +bank to the brink of the water was a distance of just +fifty feet; but the tower on our side of the river stood +within ten feet of the water, and the foundation stood +upon an ordinary layer of earth, with an under stratum +of gravel similar to the bed of the river.</p> + +<p>My old friend and I could see nothing in this to assist +us in any way; but when I retired to rest that night I +could not help asking myself the question, “Why does +one tower stand fifty feet from the water and the other +only ten?”</p> + +<p>Was it not probable that whoever built the towers +would erect them at equal distances from the river? +And again—If one tower were required for some reason +to be nearer the water than the other, would it not be +the one which was built upon the solid rock?</p> + +<p>Over these questions I pondered and worried half +through the night, while my old comrade snored away +as peacefully and regularly as he had done any time +during the past nineteen centuries.</p> + +<p>Before I joined my companion in a nasal duet I came +to the following conclusions:—</p> + +<p>1. Probably centuries ago the river had been much +narrower.</p> + +<p>2. A river does not keep its exact course for ever: +many things may cause it to change its course.</p> + +<p>3. This river had not diverged much from its original +course, as proved by the towers; but if it had diverged +at all it was towards the eastern tower (cottage side).</p> + +<p>4. The towers were exactly one hundred and eighty +feet apart, but the true centre of the river would be +forty feet from the west bank and eighty feet from the +east bank.</p> + +<p>5. River <i>beds</i> may rise or fall from their original level,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> +by deposits of earthy particles settling, and thus covering +up what was once the true river-bed; or by a swift +river scouring off the upper surface of the bed, which +would thus eventually expose anything hidden at a +depth of five or six feet below the bed.</p> + +<p>6. The deepest part of a river is usually in the centre, +and there would probably be the spot where anything +in the way of treasure would be buried, because of the +greater inaccessibility.</p> + +<p>Next day the Jew and I held a consultation, when we +decided, after carefully weighing the above ideas, that +I should cut a trench five feet deep and twenty or thirty +yards long, from north to south, along the bed of the +river in a line with its course, and at a distance of forty +feet from the west bank, a spot which we surmised to +be the centre of the river in ancient times.</p> + +<p>Again night after night I toiled, and for three weeks +I dug and delved, but this time not <i>quite</i> in vain, for at +the end of this period I came upon a hard substance +which I supposed to be just what I had struck my spade +upon many times before—a stone. I took it in my hand, +for the water was too turbid to see anything clearly +beneath its surface, and felt it to be much too heavy for +a flint of the size of one’s fist. Probably it was metal!</p> + +<p>My heart beat swiftly as I ascended.</p> + +<p>I took it to the hut and examined it. It was indeed +metal—it was gold!</p> + +<p>We gazed upon it for some time, and then, placing it +upon the table, I capered round it with delight. The +Jew was very calm over it.</p> + +<p>“Wait,” said he; “this may only be a solitary nugget +dropped from a boat, or thrown into the stream by some +thief to hide his guilt.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>I went soberly to work again, taking with me a small +basket weighted with stones to prevent it floating away. +I dug, and again struck upon large nuggets, which I +placed in the basket; I also found pieces of metal which +had evidently been shaped by human hands, although +they were in such a corroded state that I could only +surmise what had once been their shape or use. I +washed off the adhering gravel and took my find +ashore to the hut, trembling with excitement as I did so.</p> + +<p>Hurrah! every piece was pure gold! gold!! gold!!! +Then, being thoroughly exhausted by my long dive and +the excitement of my discovery, I frightened my companion +nearly out of his wits by fainting, and falling +like a log of timber at his feet.</p> + +<p>When I awoke it was broad daylight, and I was +lying comfortably in my cot, but with a very bad +headache.</p> + +<p>I groaned, for it at once flashed across my mind that +the basket of gold was, after all, nothing but a dream, +a delusion!</p> + +<p>Calling my friend from the other room, and glaring +at him the while, I asked half-a-dozen questions before +he could answer one.</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself, my son, and I will answer all your +questions, but not before you give me your word that +nothing shall excite you. Remember, that in your +overwrought state, with a burning brain, an enfeebled +frame, and a naturally excitable temperament, such a +thing as madness might overtake you, or an attack of +brain fever seize you.”</p> + +<p>“Father, I will be a very Stoic; nothing shall unduly +move me.”</p> + +<p>“Prove then that you can control your feelings by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> +not asking me a single question till you have eaten your +breakfast.”</p> + +<p>I obeyed; but how every morsel stuck in my throat, +and had literally to be washed down with coffee. The +apparently everlasting meal was at length finished, and +again I put my numerous questions, and recounted my +dream of the basket of gold. Then with a gesture +intended to compose me, the Jew drew forth from +a locker the basket of gold, and held it out to my +astonished gaze.</p> + +<p>“Gold!” I exclaimed, stretching out my trembling +hand.</p> + +<p>“Yes, gold,” said the Jew, quietly placing the basket +upon the table as if it contained apples. “Gold, simple +gold; would you be so weak as to addle your brain for +a basketful of the vile dross? It is at once the curse and +blessing of humanity; it kills and it saves; it blackens +the pure, and gilds vice; it creates and it destroys, and +more often paves the way to hell than builds a ladder to +heaven.”</p> + +<p>What my friend said upon gold would fill many +pages, but to shorten these remarks I will simply say +that his eloquence and force of argument were so great, +that I presently became infected with his ideas of the +metal before me. I had been like a man drunk with +gold, but had now become sober with advice.</p> + +<p>My fevered brain quieted down, and I simply resolved +in my mind that I should be a rich man. Well! what +of that, there were plenty of rich men in the world who +lived and enjoyed their wealth, but then—unlike my +ancient friend—a few short years would bring them face +to face with that great harvestman, Death, and what of +the riches then?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>In a day or two, having with the Jew’s kind nursing +and attention quieted my mind, I re-commenced my +work, and found many more baskets of gold of various +shapes; battered crowns, cups, shield bosses, rings, and +ornaments of all kinds, many of them with gems in +them, were brought to the surface; and one night as I +lay in bed, it came into my head that I would the next +night bring ashore a basketful of the loose gravel, and +examine it to see if any small pieces of gold were +among it.</p> + +<p>Accordingly the next night, as most of the large +pieces of gold had been gathered, I filled my basket +with gravel, and took it to the hut, where I spread it +forth on the table.</p> + +<p>To our astonishment, not only did we discover small +pieces of gold, but precious stones, cut and uncut, were +to be seen sparkling amid the heap of gravel. The +gravel was of more value than the lumps of gold!</p> + +<p>The cut gems we put carefully by in a box, and +those in a rough state, which we had more difficulty +in finding because they were of a dull and lustreless +surface, we placed in a large leathern bag.</p> + +<p>I found I had literally been shovelling up precious +stones when I fancied I was digging gravel, but now +that I was aware of the value of the gravel-bed, I +carefully brought every basketful ashore, and together +we sorted over the contents.</p> + +<p>For several weeks, night by night, I continued my +work of diving, until nature gave out, and I became +completely prostrate, and by my old friend’s advice +resolved to give up seeking for more valuables. I had +gold of ten times my own weight, several leathern bags of +natural uncut gems, about a peck of beautiful cut +jewels, and enough ring-seals and ornaments to stock +a museum; I was rich beyond my most extravagant +dreams. I was twice over a millionaire!</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_058a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_058a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“Precious stones, cut and uncut, were to be seen sparkling amid the +heap of gravel.”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>The Wandering Jew had but a few more days to +be with me, for he may not sojourn at one place more +than six months, and that privilege is only allowed him +once in each century; at other times a calendar month is +his longest stay at any place. Usually he tramps from +place to place, halting but a short time at each town or +village; at other times he undertakes long journeys +among the Caucasus Mountains, the Urals, or the Alps; +at other times he hies him to Norway, Finland, and even +Siberia. These journeys he undertakes with no other +encumbrance than a long staff. He can accomplish +feats that would be impossible to other mortals: no +wild animal dare attack him; cold he can feel but it +cannot harm him; sleep has no hold upon him when he +wills himself to remain awake, nor does hunger have any +pangs for him, as he is able to fast for weeks at a time +without any great inconvenience. He speaks many +languages and knows many countries. He wants for +nothing, as he has the power of willing persons to give +him exactly what he may require, not <i>against</i> their will, +but with pleasure to themselves.</p> + +<p>For the few days which remained we occupied +ourselves in packing and forwarding the boxes by +different routes, and under different disguises, to my +home in distant England, in which I longed once more +to set foot.</p> + +<p>I endeavoured in every way to obtain the real name of +my generous old friend, but without success, and am +sorry to say he did not even give me the opportunity of +thanking him for having made me a millionaire, for one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +stormy morning when I arose I found myself alone; my +comrade had flown, leaving upon the table a scrap of +paper bearing these words—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“My son, riches added neither to the honour nor +happiness of the great king Solomon; how, then, shall +they bring <i>thee</i> peace—that peace which is the spirit of +happiness—except by doing good with that which earth +and water have yielded up to thee?</p> + +<p>“Do good with thy riches, and thy fellow men shall +bless and reverence thee.</p> + +<p>“Use thy riches in a selfish or discreditable manner, +and thy gold shall turn to lead as thou graspest it, and +drag thee deep down to an eternal doom. Fare thee +well.</p> + +<p class="right">“(Signed) <span class="smcap">John</span> XXI., xxiv.”</p> +</div> +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Many were the schemes which racked my brain for +turning my valuables into money; and for a long time +after returning to England I did not know how to +proceed, but at length hit upon a plan. The very +numerous relics of pagan times I presented, under various +assumed names, to museums throughout the kingdom. +The gold I had no difficulty in disposing of to the large +manufacturing jewellers in Birmingham. The uncut +precious stones I occasionally send in parcels of a +thousand to M. Koster of Amsterdam, who for the past +ten years has set apart a wing of his great establishment, +containing twenty-five men, who are constantly employed +in cutting and polishing gems for me. These are +then sent to agents in all parts of the world, and +disposed of, the proceeds being placed to my account in +the Bank of England.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>I live as a wealthy country gentleman should, in good +style, but without ostentation. I travel a great deal in +the summer, and to every genuine call of distress my +purse is open, but the cases requiring pecuniary aid +which come under my <i>personal</i> observation are not +nearly enough to absorb the amount—about £100,000—which +I wish to spend yearly in charity and good +philanthropic work. My money is distributed over the +British Isles to charities of every denomination under +the initials A. Z., which you have probably often seen +in the daily newspapers, and I trust I may live for many +years to bestow my largesse on cases and institutions +worthy of aid.</p> + +<p>I have more than I shall spend during my lifetime, +but there is doubtless a great deal more treasure in the +river-bed which I overlooked in my hasty search, and +which could be made the means of alleviating much +suffering, wretchedness, and distress in this country, if +it were brought to light by some one who would search +for it in a more diligent and thorough manner than I +did, and who would, when he had secured it, put it to +the same good use that I am doing. To whom could I +tell the secret of the whereabouts of the ruined towers, +with the certainty that he would carry out my wishes?</p> + +<p>I wonder who would take up the search at the point +at which I ceased?</p> + +<p>By obtaining permission from the government of +Z——, the river’s course could be again deflected as it +was in the early Christian days, and the remaining +treasure systematically and leisurely recovered.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>It was quite late when my guest left me that night, +after having first extracted from me the promise that I +would call upon him at his humble inn in the happy +valley next day.</p> + +<p>Having made a parcel of the still wet clothes I called +next morning upon my new friend, and spent the day +with him, wandering about the valley, and trying a cast +with the fly. On parting in the evening he informed me +that he was to return to town next day, and I should +probably see him no more.</p> + +<p>A day or two after his departure a man came down +to the beach leading a fine piebald mare, and inquiring +if I were Mr. S——. I informed him that that was my +name, whereupon he gave me a note written in pencil, +reading thus—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,</p> + +<p>“I cannot allow the day I spent in your cosy +domicile on wheels to pass without some little acknowledgment +of the courtesy shown me, and of the kindness +you extended to a perfect stranger. By bearer I send +you a magpie, which kindly accept as a remembrance of</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“Your obliged friend,</span><br> + +“H. K. K. (A. Z.)”</p> +</div> + +<p>I have never seen H. K. K. since, although I think +I could, if I wished, make a very near guess at his real +name and abode. The magpie still tugs myself and home +from place to place, the admired of all beholders from +the beauty of his peculiar markings. He makes my +caravan an object of extra interest wherever I go, +simply because of the superstitious belief that a piebald +horse brings luck.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>Some people <i>wish</i> when they see my horse, others +affirm that stroking its glossy hide helps to realize their +wish. Parents whose children suffer from St. Vitus’s +dance have asked me to allow the afflicted ones to ride a +little way on its back, in the belief that such exercise +on a parti-coloured steed will effect a cure.</p> + +<p>A jockey about to ride a race on a certain occasion +begged seven black hairs from the tail of my horse and +seven white ones from its mane. I granted his request, +and watched him bind the hairs carefully round the +handle of his riding-whip. I witnessed the race with +more than usual interest, and strangely enough the +superstitious jockey <span class="allsmcap">WON</span> his race by a short head.</p> + +<p>At more than one inn at which I have halted, the +landlord would take no money for the maintenance of +my parti-coloured horse, saying that bad luck would +fall upon them if they charged for the keep of a “lucky” +horse.</p> + +<p>So much for credulity and superstition!</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">III.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “A STRANGE +RESURRECTION.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">While</span> travelling along the Norfolk coast, and enjoying +its golden sands and bracing breezes, I fell in +with a jolly old fellow who was mending one of the +huge oaken breakwaters, with which some parts of this +wind-swept coast are protected, to prevent the encroachment +of the sea, which, year by year and slice by slice, +devours the soft clay cliffs, as regularly and insatiably +as a ploughboy consumes his thumbpiece after the first +two hours of morning work.</p> + +<p>The jolly one had charge of a gang of half-a-dozen +semi-amphibious agricultural labourers, who were driving +down the great iron-shod piles deep into the sand, by +means of an erection very similar in construction to a +guillotine, except that instead of the lunette a huge +block of iron weighing several hundredweight fell upon +the pile to be driven when a lever is pulled.</p> + +<p>The men, with whom I conversed while they ate their +noonday meal, were of the usual type of tawny-bearded, +brown-faced, straight-nosed men one sees on the east +coast, who, when not employed in farm work, gain their +scanty living on the sea. But the ganger was a man of a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> +different stamp; he was short and thick like a Shetland +pony, and very nearly as rugged and unkempt as one of +those sturdy animals, for his iron-grey beard and hair +blew about in the wind like the tattered rags on a +mawkin.</p> + +<p>He was a most jocular little-big man, full of fun and +funny sayings, and the loudest to laugh at his own jokes +was—himself. His laugh was hearty at any time, but +on special occasions he would give a peculiar roar that +would quite startle any person not used to Billy +Flowerdue’s wild guffaw.</p> + +<p>I invited Billy to spend an evening in my caravan, +an invitation which he readily accepted, as he was some +miles from his home, and only at present lodging in the +inn of a neighbouring village.</p> + +<p>Billy opened his eyes at many of the curiosities I had +picked up during my travels, and widest of all at a +curious piece of work which had been made by a man +in the same line of business as himself—that of a +carpenter and wheelwright. It was a wooden leg, +which had been made for a cow, and which the animal +had worn for several years, until she met her death by +lightning.</p> + +<p>It was a curious contrivance made of two pieces of +wood, jointed at the knee with a pair of ordinary iron +hinges, and made to fly out straight when the animal +arose from a recumbent position, by means of thick +india-rubber springs attached from the upper to the +lower timbers.</p> + +<p>If the powerfully-built little carpenter opened his +eyes wide at what he was pleased to call “that thayer +cur’us contraption,” he did so even more fully when I +asked him to allow me to send him to sleep by a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> +peculiar power I possessed, and I quite believe he +thought I was either insane, bent on robbing him, or +else thirsting for his blood.</p> + +<p>I had, therefore, to fully explain the meaning of +hypnotism to Billy, who, although a masterful hand +with the adze or chisel, had apparently no brain for +other subjects. His head was full of chips and timber, +and nothing more. By dint of persevering persuasion, +he was at length prevailed upon to permit me to place +him in a state of trance, but not until I had first +placed my faithful collie “Skybo” in a mesmeric +sleep; at the sight of which Billy laughed loudly enough +to make the plates and crockery in my house on wheels +rattle again.</p> + +<p>I had no need to ask Billy to give up his mind, and +allow himself to think of just nothing at all, for it +appeared a chronic state with him, to which he relapsed +after every laugh. When he did enter the trance state +he related the following very curious adventure of his +early days.</p> + + +<h3>A STRANGE RESURRECTION.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> not what you may term an <i>old</i> man, being a few +months short of sixty-five years, but though my years +are totalling up considerably, my spirits are light as a +feather, and although fifty years have passed away since +the story I am about to tell you took place, the incidents +are as vivid in my memory as they were a month after +their occurrence.</p> + +<p>I was a youngster of fourteen or fifteen at the time +I am about to speak, and like most boys of that age<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +had a liking for the sea, especially as I dwelt in a great +seaport where every one was in some way or other +connected with fish or ships, and where even the schoolboys’ +common expressions were flavoured with nautical +terms.</p> + +<p>My birthplace was Great Yarmouth, and at the time +I left school in 1835, no one seemed to ask the question, +which we so frequently hear now, of “What are you +going to do with your son?” because it seemed predestined +that the entrance of a boy into the world +should be by way of the high seas. Each boy at the +age of fourteen or fifteen appeared to look forward +intuitively to the time when he should make his first +voyage, or join one of the great herring fleets which +annually leave Yarmouth in August; and he knew also +that his maiden experience was merely a test, to ascertain +for what particular division of toilsome nautical life he +was most fitted.</p> + +<p>Some liked the sea and its thrilling dangers, and +stuck to it through fair weather and foul, working their +way upward, till in a very few years they became mate, +skipper, and presently part owner of the smack or lugger +they commanded. Others preferred shore life; the sea +was too coy a mistress for them to woo; and they +were accordingly apprenticed to sail or mast-makers, +shipwrights, smiths, netmakers, or something of the +kind connected with shipping. Others again would +volunteer for service in Her Majesty’s Navy, being +taken with the trim appearance of the young fellows +who had preceded them in that branch of the nautical +life, and came home on leave, to show off their little +horde of gold saved from their first cruise money.</p> + +<p>Yet another set there were who, disdaining the toil of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +a fisher’s life, the subordination of the navy, or of being +always ashore at some trade, chose the freer life which +was led by those who were apprenticed to the coasting +or mercantile trade.</p> + +<p>On leaving school I determined to see about me a +little, and accordingly cast in my lot with the latter +group, and was in due course enrolled as an apprentice +on the books of <i>The Ladybird</i>, a smart little trading brig, +belonging to Yarmouth.</p> + +<p>My father at the time kept an inn called the “Jolly +Waggoner,” just out of the town, on the Caister Road, +and as it was early spring, the various caravans were +moving from their winter quarters, and their owners +painting and gilding up their properties ready for +the round of the fairs, which in Norfolk commence +in the spring and run right through the months, till +Christmas and heavy snows put a stop to them for the +year.</p> + +<p>At the side of the “Jolly Waggoner” was a large +piece of spare ground, upon which might frequently be +seen four or five caravans being repaired and painted; +my father uniting in his own person the businesses of +painter, publican, carpenter, and smith; so that with +one thing and another he made a very fair living in a +quiet way.</p> + +<p>Well, a couple of days before <i>The Ladybird</i> was to +sail with a general cargo to the Faroe Isles, the skipper, +towards evening, came down to my father’s house +to settle about my premium money, and to give me an +opportunity of signing my indentures.</p> + +<p>Captain Cooper, that was his name, was a jolly, genial +man, full of fun and merriment, and had the name for +being a most able seaman; and as he was part owner<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +of the vessel, my father had no doubt that I should be +in good and safe hands. They were old schoolmates and +life-long friends, so, as Captain Cooper remarked, it would +only be leaving one father on shore to serve under +another at sea—a kind of nautical foster-father.</p> + +<p>I was delighted when the indenture was pushed across +the table to receive my signature, and though I made a +big blot to start with, I afterwards signed my name very +well, which was more than I could say for either of my +two fathers, for their hands were so stiff, and the pen +so scratchy, that they made very laborious work of it. +The captain wrote his name as much with his jaws as +with his pen, for sticking his tongue into his cheek, he +elongated and rolled his lower jaw in a most curious +manner, apparently forming each letter with the tip of +his tongue on the inside of his cheek, and then simultaneously +scrawling in the same slow manner with the +quill pen on the parchment before him.</p> + +<p>My father signed with a big cross, so his task was +soon over, but still not before he had made the pen give +a big splutter, just as a sea-rocket does when it touches +the water, and the ink flew in spray from bottom to top +of the important document.</p> + +<p>By the time the witnesses had signed their names, +and spattered their share of ink over the indenture, the +whole thing was highly decorated, and looked for all the +world like a map of some large city, showing by black +dots the positions of the various places of interest.</p> + +<p>After such a Herculean task, much refreshment was +required, supplied, and in due course consumed.</p> + +<p>I can fancy myself now sitting in the cosy bar-parlour—though +it is fifty years ago—listening to the wonderful +yarns spun by Captain Cooper; yarns which appeared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> +to me to become more astounding as he warmed up with +the many and various liquids he imbibed.</p> + +<p>Then I recollect a startling occurrence which happened +in the midst of the story-telling; it was the +entrance of a travelling showman, who wished to know +if he could put up at our house for the night, as he +wanted some repairs done to his caravan next day. He +was of medium height, stoutish and florid, just the type +of person one would expect to be connected with the +show business. He was a perfect stranger to my father, +but as there was work to be done for him in the morning, +my father bade him take his caravan upon the +green, and after he and the ostler had fixed up all for +the night, come and have a comfortable pipe and chat +with us.</p> + +<p>Jim, our ostler, accompanied the showman, and having +stabled the horse for the night, and put the van into a +good berth, the showman rejoined us. He proved to be +a capital story-teller, as are most of his profession. His +tales, if anything, were more wonderful than Captain +Cooper’s; anyway, I never heard such stories as they +told one against the other, and I do not doubt that if I +had glanced at myself in the looking-glass, my eyes +would have resembled small china tea-saucers. My +father did not call them stories, he used a harsher but +shorter word; but I, in my verdancy, imagining they +<i>might</i> be true, gave them the benefit of the doubt, and +swallowed them like so many sugar-plums.</p> + +<p>Now the thing that fixes this scene so vividly on my +memory was, that while these men were so busy racking +their brains for the toughest yarns, the half-door leading +into the bar was suddenly opened, and the space filled +with the huge form of a man, who inquired, in no amiable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +strain, if the showman were going to sit there all night, +and leave him without so much as a quart to moisten +his lips with.</p> + +<p>The ceiling of the bar-parlour was certainly not lofty, +being barely seven feet from the floor, but to my surprise, +and I might also add horror, when the man pushed +open the half-door and entered the room he could not +stand upright, so gigantic was his stature. His entrance +created quite a commotion among those present, but the +showman soon smoothed matters by ordering a gallon +of ale, and telling us that our visitor was a giant with +whom he was travelling round the country for exhibition +purposes.</p> + +<p>I had never seen a giant before, and he quite frightened +me when he planted himself right beside me on the +settle. I rose to find fresh quarters, not quite so close +to such an uncanny monster, but he pulled me back and +sat me on his knee, just as if I had been a four-year-old +child, instead of a good-sized lad of fifteen.</p> + +<p>His hands and feet were enormous, and when I shook +hands with him at his request, my decent-sized fist +looked like a baby’s in his huge paw. He was not only +tall, but he was large-framed, and well built in every +way; a man of enormous strength, and, as I soon found, +of prodigious appetite. He had, so the showman informed +us, just been captured from the plough in +Yorkshire, and the showman was taking him round, and +paying him double as much as he could earn by his +work as an agricultural labourer. The giant liked the +nomadic life, and the princely sum of eighteen shillings +a week made him something of a Crœsus compared with +other working men.</p> + +<p>Somehow I could not take to the man, although he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +seemed to show a great partiality for me; he was rough, +coarse of speech, and of a pugnacious temperament; +but, except for one or two little bickerings, a very +pleasant evening was spent, and the showman, who was +in his cups, insisted upon seeing Captain Cooper back +to the ship, as the Captain could not steer straight; in +fact, he could scarce make headway at all, as his +legs would cross and keep tripping him up. The end +of it was that the showman’s horse was brought out, +the Captain strapped on his back, and the showman +hoisted up behind, to navigate the steed to the quay. +Jim the ostler followed quietly behind on foot, and +returned an hour later with the horse, informing my +father that he had left both skipper and showman fast +asleep on the cabin floor.</p> + +<p>Then we went to bed, and saw no more of the tipsy +showman till ten o’clock next morning, when he turned +up at the “Jolly Waggoner” looking very seedy.</p> + +<p>Well, now having introduced my <i>dramatis personæ</i>, I +must say a few words concerning the ship, the lively +little <i>Ladybird</i>. She was a trim little oak-built brig of +some 200 tons, well found in gear and stores, and +carried beside the skipper, a mate, three hands, and a +cook, to which please add your humble servant as articled +apprentice. Our cargo was a very miscellaneous one, +and consisted principally of barreled beef and pork, +cloth, linen, beer, spirits, hardware and cutlery, for we +were bound on a trading expedition to the Faroe Islands, +where we were to take in a cargo of salt-fish, bird-skins, +fur, guano, seal-skins, oil, etc., in exchange for the goods +we were taking out, as very little ready money is in +circulation in those out-of-the-way isles.</p> + +<p>The skipper did not expect to be gone more than two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> +months, as the distance from Yarmouth to the Faroes is +not more than a thousand miles, inclusive of touching at +the Orkneys and Shetland <i>en route</i>; so when I bade +my father farewell on the quay, I anticipated being +back for my birthday on the 10th of June, but my case +was only one more exemplification of the adage, “Man +proposes, but God disposes,” as will be seen.</p> + +<p>I was in a great flutter of excitement when the hour of +departure really <i>did</i> arrive, which was not till near noon +instead of eight sharp, as the skipper had announced. I +was like a monkey just escaped from its cage, here, +there, and everywhere; and when we dropped down the +river to the harbour’s mouth, on the very last of the ebb, +I can recollect how I scrambled aloft when the order was +given to loosen and hoist sail. I did not know what to +do certainly, but I watched the others, and worked away +till my fingers, arms, aye and every limb ached again—but +I was supremely happy until <i>mal-de-mer</i> overtook +me, and then I went below and turned into my berth.</p> + +<p>A couple of days found me all alive again, and on +deck as merry as a cricket. We were now off Aberdeen, +quietly drawing along under all sail, and everything +going as merry as a marriage bell.</p> + +<p>As night began to close in around us we had Peterhead +(the chief whaling port) right on our port beam, +and that gave Captain Cooper an opportunity to tell +some of his yarns about the whaling cruises he had +participated in when a young man in the Greenland seas.</p> + +<p>After dark, being past Kinnard’s Head, near Frazerburgh, +we had the great gulf between Aberdeenshire and +Caithness on our port beam, and were quite out of sight +of land. The wind, which had been lazy all the day, +now began to freshen and back a little to the south of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> +west, which was very favourable for our sailing. Seeing +this the captain made up his mind not to call in at +Kirkwall, the chief town in the Orkneys, but to leave it +for the homeward voyage, and take advantage of the +favouring breeze to push on to Lerwick in the Shetland +Isles. His orders before turning in were consequently +given to the mate to be carried out, unless a change of +wind should occur, in which case the skipper was to +be called.</p> + +<p>Having got over my sea-sickness and found my sea-legs, +the day appeared too short for me, so I agreed with +the cabin-boy, Joey Nicholls, that we would not turn in +till the end of the first watch (midnight), but stay on +deck and enjoy the beautiful evening, for it was a lovely +mild moonlight night. My own watch was the second +dog-watch, which is over at eight p.m., so Joey and I +had laid ourselves out for a further four hours’ fun before +turning in.</p> + +<p>For a long time we chatted with old Bunks, whose +turn at the wheel it was, and then getting tired of him, +we took off our shoes and skylarked about in the +beautiful moonlight. We set each other various tricks +to perform, at which we found we were about equal; but +presently Joey, whose turn it was to set the next task, +ascended to the mizzen cross-trees, and sat there for two +or three minutes, when he came down and dared me to +do the same feat. It was a simple task enough, but it +must be remembered I had only had two or three days +on the sea, and had hardly overcome my nervousness in +going aloft even in the daytime, and to ascend at night +when the moon throws such black shadows from the sails, +was quite trial enough for me.</p> + +<p>However, I essayed it, and arrived safely at the cross-trees,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> +upon which I perched myself in a very gingerly +manner, for fear (in my ignorance) that my weight +might cause them to break. I sat and looked upon +the heaving waters around, and was endeavouring to +summon courage to look on deck from my dizzy +height, when I heard a thud and a cry of pain below me, +and involuntarily glancing down, I saw the mate strike +Bunks, who was hanging to the spokes of the wheel. As +I looked another blow descended, and then breaking the +unfortunate man’s hold from the spokes, I saw the mate +deliberately pitch him over the taffrail into the white +wake of the <i>Ladybird</i>, where he seemed to float a +minute and then disappear.</p> + +<p>Almost simultaneously I saw a strange man seize poor +Joey, struggle with him to the bulwarks and throw +him overboard. Joey could swim, and I could hear his +shrieks for several minutes, as he vainly struck out after +the brig, which was making three feet to his one.</p> + +<p>I could not recognize the assailant of my poor chum; +but when I looked under the foot of one of the sails, I +beheld, to my horror, the herculean form of the giant I +had left a few days before at my father’s inn, the “Jolly +Waggoner.” I could scarcely believe my eyes, but a +form like the one beneath me on the deck was such as +one sees scarcely in a lifetime, and when once seen +cannot readily be forgotten.</p> + +<p>My heart beat quickly, and I trembled so violently +that I could with difficulty retain my hold of the ropes +to prevent myself from falling to the deck. I could not +keep my eyes off the figures beneath me, and in the +bright moonlight could detect their every movement. +I saw the showman go to the wheel and pull his +coat-collar up and his cap-peak down, and the giant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> +hide himself behind the cook’s galley, which stood +amidships.</p> + +<p>Then the mate went to the fo’castle scuttle and +bawled out, “All hands tumble up, man overboard; +shorten sail—be alive there—don’t stop to shave,” and +the usual patter for suddenly turning up a crew, and in +a twinkling up came the three men from their berths, +rubbing the sleep out of their eyes with their knuckles.</p> + +<p>“Here, lads,” said the mate, pointing to the boat +which was hanging from the davits, “jump in and +lower away. Old Bunks is in the water astern. Look +alive now!”</p> + +<p>They stepped up to the boat and began to right side +her, when out from his lurking-place behind the galley +sprang the giant, and in a trice, with a heavy cudgel, he +knocked the three poor fellows down like ninepins, and +before they could recover, picked them up one by one +like bags of chaff, and tossed them over the bulwarks +into the silent sea.</p> + +<p>At this sight my senses nearly forsook me; but clasping +the mizzen top-mast convulsively I hung on, cogitating +what to do, and deciding that if either of the three +fiends below should attempt to ascend the shrouds to +take me, I would save them the commission of another +murder by precipitating myself on the hard deck below, +thus hoping to kill myself instantaneously.</p> + +<p>They descended into the fo’castle, looked into the +cook’s galley and under the boat to try and discover +me, and I heard them mention my name several times, +coupled with most awful threats and voluble profanity. +They did not appear to think of looking aloft for +me; but as I pressed my body to the mast I was afraid, +so great was my agitation, and knowing wood to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> +such a splendid conductor of sound, that they might +hear the violent throbbing of my heart as they passed +the foot of the mast. It was a foolish idea, but at the +time I quite believed it beat with noise enough to +betray me.</p> + +<p>After another search the mate, with an oath, exclaimed, +“Leave the —— till the morning; we can +scrag him then just as well as now. Come below, lads, +and have a drink, for I think we’ve finished our job in +a very neat fashion!”</p> + +<p>They all went down into the little cabin, which contained +two berths, one for the captain and the other for +the dastardly mate. The skylight being a little open I +could hear them talking, but could not distinguish what +they said; and I could also hear the clinking of glasses +and the drawing of corks.</p> + +<p>But what of Captain Cooper? So far I had neither +heard nor seen him. Was he dead, or what had become +of him?</p> + +<p>I had no means of ascertaining.</p> + +<p>How long I sat on the cross-trees I could not say, but +presently the voices in the cabin grew less noisy, and +at length ceased altogether. Whereupon I imagined +that the ruffians had drunk so much that they had +fallen asleep. I listened for some time longer, and at +length, as all was quiet, and I was getting numb with +sitting so long in one position, I quietly quitted my +eyrie, and with trembling steps descended to the deck, +and peeped through the small aperture left for ventilation +at the edge of the cabin skylight. Although I +could hear voices I could perceive no one in the cabin; +however, I noticed one thing which surprised me—that +a small trap-door in the cabin floor stood slightly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> +raised, and from the space beneath came rays of light, +showing that the conspirators were doing something +in the hold. Now I thought, if I could only steal +down the companion, I could not only look round the +cabin for some signs of the captain, but I might also +get a glimpse beneath the trap-door and see what was +going on below. I doubted my courage, but not for +long, as it occurred to me that the captain, after all, +might not be dead; and in the fact of his being still +alive laid my only chance of escape.</p> + +<p>I felt my way cautiously down the dark stairway, +and peered down the partly-open trap-door. I could +see the three villains on their knees sorting over papers, +which might have been one-pound bank-notes by their +size, and the care with which they were being counted +out. In front of the giant stood a large leathern bag, +with its mouth wide open, displaying bright golden +guineas in great numbers; evidently the gang were +dividing the spoil. The place in which they were now +gloating over their crime-bought wealth appeared to be +only about six feet square, and to contain nothing but +some large iron-bound chests, the contents of which I +could not even guess at, but I should say that the place +had been used as a kind of strong-room, and the only +mode of ingress and egress was evidently the trap-door +through which I was now looking.</p> + +<p>But what of the captain?</p> + +<p>Carefully, in the total darkness, I felt my way to his +bunk, and put my hand in. Yes, he was there, for I +touched him. It was his leg I touched. I slid my hand +up towards his head, and my fingers rested upon his +cheek. It was warm, but, alas! there was a feeling about +the flesh that told me he was dead!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>At the awful discovery I could scarcely repress a wild, +hysterical shriek—a shriek which would have cost me +my life, for the assassins below would instantly have +sprung up and murdered me with as little compunction +as they would kill a fowl or a rabbit.</p> + +<p>I clutched the side of the bunk for support; I could +scarcely breathe! I staggered; and stumbling, kicked +against something which fell and sounded like a knife. +It made a noise on the cabin floor, and I heard a voice +say with an oath, “What’s that?” Then I saw the +light move and the shadows of the men sway about.</p> + +<p>They were coming up into the cabin! I was lost!!</p> + +<p>Stay; was there not time to reach the companion and +fly on deck?</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p>My faintness vanished instantly, being put to flight by +the new and greater horror which presented itself. The +discovery of the captain’s death had unhinged me, but +the approach of my own death braced my nerves and +spurred my limbs into immediate action; for without +an instant’s hesitation I sprang into the dead man’s +berth and hid behind the corpse, placing myself between +the dead skipper and the side of the vessel. The head +and shoulders of the giant came upward through the +trap, but it was too dark for him to discern anything. +Oh, for a pistol! I could then have defied the villains, +who would have been caught like rats in a trap of their +own setting.</p> + +<p>The head suddenly disappeared, but presently made +its reappearance, and the lantern was handed from below +and stood on the cabin floor, while I in my hiding-place +quaked with fear, imagining that I should now for a +certainty be discovered and slaughtered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>Here was a contrast to the cosy bar-parlour of the +“Jolly Waggoner”; but I could give but little thought +even to my dear old dad, knowing that my life hung on +a mere thread. My eyes were riveted on the gigantic +head and shoulders emerging from the floor. The lantern +came first through the trap, and was swung aloft by +the brawny arm of the giant, who looked around beneath +it. He gazed steadfastly at the face of the dead man +by my side to see if any movement was apparent. The +dead man hid and saved me, for the giant quietly pronounced +one word, “Rats!” and then he and the lantern +vanished below again.</p> + +<p>Here was a dilemma for me to be in! What should +I do?</p> + +<p>To lie where I was simply meant being discovered in +a very short time. What <i>could</i> I do?</p> + +<p>If I attempted to get in the boat and lower myself +down from the davits I should be heard. Could I feel +for the knife on the floor and stab the rascals one by +one as they ascended the ladder into the cabin?</p> + +<p>Bah! my very heart recoiled at the notion. I could +not have killed them even to save my own life. I +thought of the sensation of feeling the knife drive +through the flesh and jar upon the bones, and the spurt +of warm life-blood over my hand, and I shuddered at +the idea. No, I was no coward, but as a lad of fifteen +I could not take a human life, even for the sake of +saving my own. With a pistol it might have been +different, a touch of the trigger and all would have been +over; but to stab and stab again—no, I could not +do it.</p> + +<p>But stay, a bright idea struck me. Surely the trap-door +had a bolt or bolts!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>Out of the berth I immediately crept, over the silent +form of the man who in death had saved my life, and +stole on tiptoe to the trap-door. The villains below +were jangling over the doling, and their noisy altercation +served to hide any little noise I made searching +my way across the cabin, which was in utter darkness.</p> + +<p>Joy! there were two bolts!</p> + +<p>I carefully felt the bolts to ascertain if they worked +easily, and with my fingers examined the staples to see +if they were clear and strong.</p> + +<p>Yes, both were clear and in order. Then noiselessly +and tremblingly I lowered the lid and shot the bolts, +and so expeditiously and quietly was it done that had +there been even less noise below, it is probable that the +men would scarcely have known the moment of their +trapping, though they would soon perceive the fact +from the air becoming hot and vitiated.</p> + +<p>Groping about I soon found the knife on the cabin floor, +and sprang on deck, noticing that the night had grown +much darker, and sombre clouds hid the moon; still +there was plenty of light for me to see to lower the +boat. But now another fact arrested my attention, +a startling fact: there was smoke quietly curling up +from the fo’castle. I rushed to the hatch, but, looking +down, could see nothing for the dense smoke; on listening +intently, however, I heard a faint crackling sound as of +burning wood.</p> + +<p><i>The ship was on fire!</i></p> + +<p>Should I release the prisoners?</p> + +<p>No, that would never do, my life would be forfeited to +my humanity without a doubt. Probably they would +break out of the strong-room long before the fire reached +so far aft, and although I had the only boat, they would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> +probably have sufficient time to rig up some kind of +raft, upon which they could remain safely till they were +picked up and taken into port by a passing trading +vessel.</p> + +<p>I could imagine them being hanged at Newgate on +my evidence!</p> + +<p>Keeping my eyes on the companion way, I popped +into the galley, and fished a huge junk of salt beef out +of the boiler in which I had seen the cook place it the +night before, for the purpose of soaking it to remove +some of the super-abundant salt with which it was +saturated. A bucket of doubtfully clean water stood in +a corner; I tasted it, and found it was fresh, poured it +into a large stone bottle, spilling half of it in my +hurry, rammed a dirty cloth into the neck by way of +cork, and put bottle and beef into the boat.</p> + +<p>I hastened to lower the jolly-boat from the davits, but +before she touched the water one of the falls jammed, the +forward one luckily, and, as I lowered away on the aft one, +the stern rested in the water, while the bows remained a +couple of feet above it, in a dangerous position. This is +not at all an uncommon occurrence, but my nerves were +so shaken by the terrible ordeal I had passed through, +that I fancied I heard the noise of feet on deck, so +seizing my knife I cut away like a madman, making a +dozen random cuts where one well-directed one would +have sufficed. The boat swung round before I could +unhook the other fall, and I was within an ace of +meeting a watery grave when she righted, and bumped +against the brig’s black side.</p> + +<p>From the taffrail, as I swept past, depended a thin +line, which I mechanically clutched and held, but as the +ship was going some three knots an hour the boat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> +rapidly dropped astern. I still held on as fathom after +fathom paid out over the taffrail, till quite twenty +fathoms hung in the water; then came a jerk, which +threw me on my face, but I still hung on, and made the +end fast round the forward thwart, as the other end was +evidently fast on the <i>Ladybird</i>.</p> + +<p>I sat in the bows for what seemed like hours, knife in +hand, ready to cut myself adrift on the first signs of +a human being appearing on deck. I saw the moon set +and the night grow inky dark, and the volume of smoke +from the fo’castle increase, and then I saw the glow +of the extending fire reflected on the sails, but no +human form was visible. Then I heard a crash and +a subdued roar, and saw tongues of flame shoot up +above the deck, catching the foresail and setting it +in a blaze; then up and up it mounted till the whole +suite of sails on the foremast were ablaze, and as +I sat there I remember thinking to myself how pretty +it looked. I felt secure, and my nerves were soothed +by the sight before me, and I looked on calmly from +my seat in the bows at the gallant ship, which from +being my home had nearly become my tomb. Could +I but have looked at the men in the strong-room, +then, come what might, I am afraid I must have +released them, for evidently they were still prisoners, +and my sympathetic heart would have been my body’s +ruin. I tried to find some mode for their release and +my own safety, but although I racked my brain, I could +devise no practical plan; beside, by this time they +were probably suffocated.</p> + +<p>While thus cogitating, the flames took hold upon +the sails of the mizzen-mast, and they too were soon +destroyed, leaving the yards and masts blazing. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +air grew hotter and hotter; the deck was in a blaze, +and great pieces of burning wood and tarry rope +began to fall in and around the boat, and although +I wished to hang on to witness the last of the <i>Ladybird</i>, +I was at last compelled to cut the rope and drop +quietly astern, as the heat, smoke, and fiery drift had +become quite unbearable.</p> + +<p>The good ship was now alight from stem to stern, +and without her sails made very little progress through +the water, but drifted gradually before the faint breeze, +so slowly, in fact, that with the paddles I could manage +to keep up with her. She presented a splendid appearance +as, clothed in fire, she rose and fell on the roll +of the sea; her reflection, mirrored in the waves, made +the water glow with an incandescent lustre that riveted +my boyish attention as intently as the finest pyrotechnic +display could possibly have done.</p> + +<p>Day at last began to dawn, and when light fairly +broke, I was alone on the ocean; for the poor old +hull with its stumpy black masts swerved from side +to side, and, with a sidelong movement, sank like a tea-saucer, +sending up, with a sudden puff, a great cloud of +vapour, and leaving many charred fragments floating in +the swirling waters where she disappeared. I pulled in +all directions, to see if perchance the bodies of any of +the villainous trio might float to the surface, but nothing +met my eyes but broken and burnt wood, and the +usual flotsam from a scuttled vessel.</p> + +<p>And that was the last I ever saw of the good ship +<i>Ladybird</i>.</p> + +<p>Now that should really be the end of my yarn, for +I am not going to tell you how I drifted about for +three days, wet to the skin, and unable to protect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +myself from the pouring rain; and I need not tell you +how I cut my raw salt beef in strips and washed it +down with the dirty water I had in the bottle. Suffice +it to say that on the evening of the third day I was +picked up, more dead than alive, by a brig bound to +Rekiavick, in Iceland; and from thence was given a +passage to Hull, from which port I walked home to +Yarmouth.</p> + +<p>When I quietly entered the bar of the “Jolly +Waggoner,” I nearly frightened my father out of his +senses at my unexpected appearance.</p> + +<p>But to tell of that would make my yarn too long.</p> + +<p>What I want to wind up with is the proof of its +truth; and this is how I vouch for its accuracy, by +quoting the following extract, taken from the columns +of the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> (London).</p> + +<p>Look up that newspaper for Monday, January 15th, +1894, and on page 3, near the bottom of the 6th column, +you will find this paragraph:—</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">A Strange Discovery.</span>—A Plymouth correspondent +telegraphs that advices have been received +of the arrival in Galveston of the Norwegian barque +<i>Elsa Anderson</i>, having in tow the hull of an English-built +brig, which had apparently been burned at sea +more than fifty years ago, and which appeared on +the surface of the ocean after a submarine disturbance +off the Faroe Islands. The hull of the strange derelict +was covered with sea-shells, but the hold and under +decks contained very little water. In the captain’s +cabin were found several iron-bound chests, the contents +of which had been reduced to pulp except a leather +bag, which required an axe to open it. In it were +guineas bearing date 1809, and worth over £1000.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +There were also several watches and a stomacher +of pearls blackened and rendered valueless by the +action of the water. Three skeletons were also found, +one of a man about seven feet high.”</p> + +<p>There, that is my yarn, and I may just add that my +first experience of the sea was my last, for my maiden +voyage contained enough excitement during its very +brief duration to last for the term of my natural life.</p> + +<p>“What do you ask? How came the pearl stomacher +and the watches in the hands of the miscreants?”</p> + +<p>Well, that I must leave, for I did not see them in +their possession, but doubtless they were the proceeds +of robberies ashore.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">IV.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “A VISITOR +FROM MARS.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> narrator of the following quaint story was a +little man, very soberly dressed, and very timid in +his demeanour. He appeared to be greatly in awe of +his wife, of whom he spoke with due, or perhaps I might +say undue, humility and deference. If his habiliments +were sober, I am much afraid his habits were the reverse; +his nose was very rubicund, and its bright colouring +contrasted oddly with his coat, once black, but now +tinged with a disreputable greenish hue.</p> + +<p>He sat in an awkward position on the very edge of +the seat, acquiesced in everything I said, and was of +such a feeble, backboneless character, that after he had +consumed half a tumbler of whiskey at a gulp, I had no +trouble in hypnotizing him (without even asking his +consent) as he lolled back on the chair in a very drowsy +condition.</p> + +<p>Slight hope was mine of eliciting anything like a story +from this intemperate little gentleman, and it was an +agreeable surprise, therefore, when he reeled off the +following, which I will call “A Visitor from Mars.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span></p> + +<h3>A VISITOR FROM MARS.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> a spirit could visit this earth from such a +distant planet as Mars, my wife would not believe for a +moment, explain it how I would.</p> + +<p>She required a proof, and proof I could have given her +had she only attended to her household duties and kept +my pockets in proper repair, instead of prying into +things that did not concern her; beside, was not the +verbal description of my shadowy visitor and his extraordinary +conversation sufficient to convince any one but +an obstinate woman that what I spoke was solid truth?</p> + +<p>Why should she imagine that the inordinately hot +weather of the past summer had had such a soporific +effect upon me, that, in wooing Morpheus, I simply +<i>dreamed</i> of my visitor?</p> + +<p>Why should she think that because I had my spirit +flask with me during my afternoon ramble that I——?—but +allow me, my intelligent reader, to lay my story +before <i>you</i>, and I think you will bear me out that there +is a foundation in it.</p> + +<p>To begin at the beginning.</p> + +<p>It was a hot, dreamy day in the middle of August, +and I was staying at the old-fashioned, out-of-the-world, +under-the-hill town of Minehead in Somersetshire. The +atmosphere being too hot for sitting indoors, and the +water much too clear for fishing, I thought I would take +a stroll to Horner Woods, which lie under the great +hills, just this side of Stoke Pero, and in the immediate +neighbourhood of Dunkery Beacon, which is precisely +one-third of a mile high.</p> + +<p>Opening my umbrella and using it as a sunshade, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> +wandered listlessly along the two or three miles which +intervene between Minehead and my haunt, and took +a long time in reaching the recumbent tree upon +which I loved to sit and sketch or read. A more +charming or solitary spot cannot be found in all the +West Country.</p> + +<p>The walk leads up a narrow valley, skirted on either +side by hills rising abruptly to a height of many hundred +feet, culminating in the giant Dunkery Beacon, whose +bald head, as I have said, breaks the horizon seventeen +hundred feet above sea level. The feet of these giant +hills are clad in trees and underwood of such an impenetrable +nature, that as one walks in the valley and looks +up the acclivities, one can see but a few score yards, and +then the mass of wood and foliage becomes so black and +dense that the eye cannot penetrate it.</p> + +<p>Of course, as in all western valleys, a bubbling, murmuring +trout stream flows through it towards the sea, +into which it falls at the pretty village of Porlock, +some miles distant; and as it twists and falls from +and among the great boulders with which the bed +of the stream is thickly strewn, it is easy to fancy one +hears persons conversing at no great distance, so peculiar +is the murmuring noise of the waters. Perhaps the +water has its familiar spirits! Why not? We know +that spirits and water are frequently very intimate with +each other, and produce much talk and idle chatter, and +possibly they are spirit voices that we hear, although we +cannot make much sense of them.</p> + +<p>It was a fairy spot I had selected, and as I sat on my +comfortable seat on the mossy old fallen monarch of the +woods, with my back resting comfortably against a +bough, which gave it the support of an arm-chair, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> +could not help imagining that such a spot would just +have suited Robin Hood and his merry men. In +fact, I amused myself by peopling the glade in my +imagination.</p> + +<p>There—under that great branching oak might rest +several mighty casks of ale, round which the men in +Lincoln green would cluster, lying in various picturesque +attitudes, with their bows and arrows hanging +from the branches of surrounding trees, ready to be +snatched down at a moment’s notice in case of any +alarm. There—where that patch of yellow-green grass +crept out from the withered oak, I would have a party +of dancers tripping it to pipe and tabour; and down +yonder precipitous path should come the lofty Little +John, with a fine deer across his broad shoulders; while +in the arbour formed by those three hawthorn trees, I +could imagine the sturdy form and graceful figure of +Robin himself and the fair Maid Marian. Then Friar +Tuck must be among them; yes, he should have a large +horn of ale and——thud!!</p> + +<p>“Why, where in the name of fortune came you +from?” I cried, as a little fat man in cassock and hood +plumped down on the soft turf beside me. “Have +I the pleasure of addressing his reverence, Friar +Tuck?”</p> + +<p>“Friar Tuck! No, my friend—never heard of that +gentleman. <i>My</i> name is Friar Bacon.”</p> + +<p>“Friar Bacon!” I exclaimed. “Why, surely <i>you</i> +never had anything to do with this jovial company—Robin +Hood and his merry men?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_090a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_090a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“Just place your hand upon my breast.”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>But as I swept my arm round to give emphasis to my +speech, I perceived, to my astonishment, that nought +but trees and rocks met my view on every side, my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>foresters had vanished, and I found myself in the +presence of a short, stout, rubicund monk, who should +have been dust these six hundred years.</p> + +<p>“Bacon,” I murmured, looking doubtingly at my +visitor; “why, how is it possible that you, who died, if +my memory serves me rightly, ere the close of the +thirteenth century, can be here before me at the +end of the nineteenth? You are joking with me, my +friend.”</p> + +<p>“Oh no,” replied my visitor, “it is extremely simple. +You must know that I, with many other learned men, +have formed a scientific colony, so to speak, in the +planet Mars. We have many among us known to you +by repute. St. Dunstan, Newton, Archimedes, Leonardo +da Vinci, Galileo, Euclid, and many others, are of +our company, and right harmoniously we live together. +Live, I say, but of course you will understand I mean +exist, for we have for many ages passed from the flesh, +and are now simply etherealized bodies, or, if you will, +spirits!</p> + +<p>“You would ask how came we in Mars?</p> + +<p>“Well, let it suffice if I inform you, that by the +sanction of the Great Spirit, we, Advancers of Mankind, +are allowed a special parole, as a recompense for our +toil on earth, and there in Mars we exist, instead of +perambulating this dense earth of yours, in a spirit form, +till we are required ‘At the Last.’</p> + +<p>“Just place your hand upon my breast.”</p> + +<p>I did so, but my fingers meeting no resistance, I +extended my arm, and could see my hand emerge +beyond the figure as the jolly friar remarked:</p> + +<p>“There, you see, I am pure spirit, double distilled, +and I trust highly rectified.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>“Well,” he continued, “I have not long to stay, so I +will have a short chat with you, and then, heigh presto! +back to my cosy planet. You see it is only once in +two years we get very close to your earth, that is, at a +certain time we are only 35 millions of miles from you, +whilst at another time we are as much as 244 millions +of miles away. Therefore as we travel fast I must not +linger long, or I shall be late at our monthly scientific +meeting, which takes place to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>I could not refrain from asking him what the planet +Mars was like, and he very civilly informed me that it +was prettier than the earth, and its climate milder; +“beside which,” said he—</p> + +<p>“The genial seasons are longer; we have a spring +of 192 days, and a summer of 180; whilst the autumn +is of 150, and the winter of 147 days’ duration only. +A longish year, as you will observe, nearly 690 days; +but then we are so busy and so happy that we do not +notice the flight of time. Time is an object to you +mortals, but we philosophers totally disregard it. If +you visited our planet you would find one thing in +particular very trying to you in your present gross form—we +have no atmosphere to speak of.</p> + +<p>“We neither eat, drink, nor sleep; require no clothing, +that is no <i>renewal</i> of clothing, for this cassock is the +shade of the last costume I wore when on earth, and +will probably last me till the Crack of Doom; consequently +we are enabled to employ the whole of our time +in scientific research.”</p> + +<p>“Might I venture to inquire into the nature of your +scientific studies?” I timidly inquired.</p> + +<p>“Why certainly,” he replied, rubbing his forehead +reflectively; and as he drew his hand across the noble<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> +expanse of his frontal bone, I could see a rush of little +sparks follow his shadowy fingers. This set me to +gaze more intently at his phenomenal person, and as +I did so I was surprised to find that I could see quite +through what should have been the frontal bone, and +there, in the cavity of the cranium, I beheld his brain +at work thinking. It simply appeared like revolving +smoke curling this way and that, and taking fantastic +forms; halting, and then moving on again in complex +but orderly movement.</p> + +<p>Seeing my utter astonishment, he good-naturedly +enlightened me as to the strange appearance.</p> + +<p>“The brain,” said he, “is <i>the man</i>, it never dies, and +in our case is the only part which does not entirely +become spirit, that is, <i>transparent</i> spirit. It always +remains a foggy, cloudy kind of ether, visible to mortals; +and they are constantly walking through and sitting +surrounded by it, though they know it not.</p> + +<p>“You probably do not believe in ghosts or spirits, yet +you are surrounded by them day and night, and when, +by a variety of accidental causes, one becomes materialized +you see it, and immediately write off to a newspaper +about it as something wonderful. Ha! ha! If I could +only open your eyes and show you the number of +ghosts in this silent and solitary spot you would scarcely +believe your eyes; there are thousands!”</p> + +<p>Then looking at me with his peculiar, luminous eyes +he inquired, “Did you ever notice a kind of mist floating +over graveyards during certain days of damp, muggy +weather?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied, “often; but what of that?”</p> + +<p>“What of that!—why,” continued Bacon, “that is the +spirit, the soul, <i>the brain</i> of disembodied mortals, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> +floats till the Final Day just above the ground, the rock, +the sea, or wherever the body was buried.”</p> + +<p>I marvelled at this, whereupon my communicative +friend went further, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Do you not know that these spirits may be conversed +with by mortals? You have a certain control over +electricity, you have the phonograph, the electrophone, +and the telephone—trifles in comparison to what we +have invented in Mars—but with these you have only to +proceed in this way. You simply——”</p> + +<p>But ere he uttered another word a wind swept through +the wood with a crackling sound, at which the Friar +bowed his head and quietly uttered the words “I obey!” +It was evident by his uneasy movements and facial +expression that he had been stayed from enlightening +me further by some unseen spirits, so, to turn the subject, +I said:—</p> + +<p>“What is there appertaining to this earth in which +we might advance our knowledge, by invention or +otherwise?”</p> + +<p>The little monk looked at me with a mirthful face, +putting his jolly head on one side, and with a look in +his eyes as if he would say, “Don’t you wish you may +pump me?” said:—</p> + +<p>“I must tell you plainly, that by our bond we are +forbidden to tell to mortals the secrets we possess, but I +will just give you a little idea or two that you may +experimentalize upon, and see what you are clever +enough to make of notions that <i>we</i> have already +established as practical scientific facts.</p> + +<p>“Electricity with you is only in its infancy, it is but +just born—yet you have taken several steps in the right +direction; you have the phonograph, the electrophone,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +and the telephone, all of which are very well in their +way, but you must go further with them. If you are +clever enough you can make the phonograph convey +<i>thought</i> as well as speech, so that you and I, being a mile +apart, could, with the help of an improved phonograph, +convey our <i>thoughts</i> to each other. With a certain instrument +conversation with departed spirits might be held +and the very secrets of the grave revealed, and the great——” +But here the wind again sighed through the +valley, and the monk again bowed and meekly crossed +himself, having evidently ventured too far beyond the +bounds of his suggestions.</p> + +<p>“The electrophone,” said he, “may easily be improved, +so that in combination with a certain machine which I +may tell you is <i>on the eve of being invented</i> in America, +will not only give you the voice of the person speaking +at a distance, but also his or her likeness with every line +of the features expressing the individuality of the person +under notice.</p> + +<p>“Electricians of the Nineteenth Century! why, you +have only reached ‘A’ in the alphabet of electrical +possibilities. How absurd of you to use horseflesh to +draw loads, and raise or lower heavy masses, and to use +steam—noisy, bulky steam—for locomotives and marine +engines, and to write with ink and even use hand-power +to sew with, when everything could be done quicker, +easier, cheaper, and cleaner by the <i>touchstone of all +future motion</i>—electricity!</p> + +<p>“There, get along, ye mortals of to-day!” and the +little man rolled about with laughter, “ye laggards, +why, if half-a-dozen of our company in Mars had had +<i>your</i> scientific instruments and delicate machinery in <i>our</i> +day we should have made an entirely different world of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> +this earth. Why, my old friend Archimedes would have +obtained a fulcrum for his lever long before now, and if +no one had prevented him would have attempted to +hurl the earth right out of the planetary system into +space. Oh, he is even now a most mischievous fellow, +though you would not think it to look at him; his +ambition is boundless, and his scientific pranks are at +times very reprehensible. Only last week, just for the +fun of the thing, he blew Sir Isaac Newton nearly +to the sun, and when the poor fellow returned to Mars +after several days’ absence we scarcely knew him, he had +become so sunburnt with his visit to the suburbs of the +great luminary. It was beyond a joke, you know.” +Then the little man went off into another paroxysm of +laughter at the thought of poor Sir Isaac’s burnt spirit-face.</p> + +<p>“What,” queried I, “can you tell me of ships and +navigation? Have we reached the limit of speed in the +merchant service, and the zenith of offensive and +defensive power in the Navy?”</p> + +<p>These questions sent the little man off into a fresh fit +of laughter, and he looked at me as much as to say, “You +ignoramus, you type of mortal feebleness and conceit.” +Presently having calmed down he proceeded:—</p> + +<p>“I must tell you that Nelson is with us in spirit, and has +turned out a capital inventor. He follows eagerly all +that takes place, navally, in the little dots on the globe +called Great Britain, and you will scarcely believe it +when I tell you, that he has invented a <i>wooden</i> ship that +would in one brief hour destroy your entire navy.”</p> + +<p>“How could it be done?” said I.</p> + +<p>“Ah! there you are! I cannot <i>tell</i> you, I can only +give you an idea. My lord’s ship is of wood, compressed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +india-rubber, and cork! The only thing you have to +discover is how to place your caoutchouc so that when a +shot is fired at your ship it passes clean through it and +the hole immediately closes, just as the water closes after +it is cloven by the ship’s hull. Firing at Nelson’s ship +would have the same effect as if you thrust your walking-stick +through me or through your own shadow.”</p> + +<p>“But,” I asked eagerly, “how would he destroy our +navy in an hour?”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said the Friar, “he and Sir Humphrey +Davy have invented an explosive of such vast power, +that a single pound weight would destroy the strongest +ironclad afloat, and he can fire it from an ordinary +shoulder gun, with which he delights to practise at the +mountains of Mars. He can chip a thousand-ton mountain +top off with a single shot; we have to stop him at +it, for he quite spoils the scenery, and alters it so completely +that we are in danger of losing ourselves. He +calls his destructive agent ‘infernite,’ and it really is +quite diabolical.”</p> + +<p>“And of speed in merchant vessels,” I remarked, “what +of that?”</p> + +<p>“There you are all wrong again, you have gone +right off the proper path. Why, your passenger +vessels actually float on the <i>surface</i> of the sea, instead +of fathoms below it; consequently you have both wind +and waves to contend with, which is absurdly and palpably +wrong to any one who gives the least reflection to +the matter.</p> + +<p>“Set your inventive faculties to work, control and compress +your air—by the way, see that you get it pure, sea +air is always best and safest—sink your hermetically-sealed +ship by hydraulic arrangements, pitch your great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> +thumping steam monsters overboard, and propel your +vessel with civilized and cleanly electric force, and there +you are! America in twenty-four hours! India in three +days! China in five! and Australia in a week!!</p> + +<p>“This speed should have been attained years since; but +your engineers are so in love with great smoky furnaces, +steel monsters, and grimy coal and grease, that it will +take some time before they get off with the ugly old love +(steam) and on with the elegant new one (electric force).”</p> + +<p>I nodded approval, and put another query. “Can we +do anything more to improve the locomotive engine both +as to safety and speed? Of course I gather from what +you have just said that electricity could be made to take +the place of steam, and then we should get a much +quicker and safer service of trains than at present.”</p> + +<p>“Quicker service of trains?” he echoed, and looked at +me in feigned amazement. “Trains and locomotives, +did you say? Why, my dear friend, you astonish me. +To improve your service, gather up all your network of +iron rails, but leave your stations intact for the present, +and pitch both the rails and the horrid shrieking engines +into the midst of the Atlantic, not into the North Sea, for +that is so shallow that the immense pile of old iron would +cause an obstruction to submarine navigation, and quite +spoil the fishing-ground, though it would be an excellent +iron tonic to the fish.</p> + +<p>“Then, having done that, invent a neat little electric +aërostat—it can and has been done by us—and simply fly +from point to point, from station to station if you will, +noiselessly and expeditiously. Edinburgh or Dublin in +three hours, or St. Petersburg in ten, would be a fair +speed. What are they made of, do you say? Well, there +is that bothering bond that seals my lips, or I would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +willingly make a sketch and give you a specification +with pleasure.</p> + +<p>“You know that certain chemicals produce certain +gases. Gas is a power: it may be converted into a +motive power. Do you follow?”</p> + +<p>I bowed.</p> + +<p>“For the fabric: do you know that six goose quills +will support a man?—if not, I can assure you they will; +there is lightness and strength for you! What can, with +equal economy, be beaten thinner or is lighter than +aluminium?—a new metal with you, I find. For propelling +mechanism, study the wing of the swift-flying +birds, created by our Great Spirit; you cannot <i>improve</i> +on that, but you can modify and adapt it to your +particular purpose.”</p> + +<p>Then casting his eye upon my umbrella, which was +lying open beside me (for I had used it to keep the sun +off), he bade me observe its form, which I did.</p> + +<p>“In that worm-produced fabric,” said he, pointing to +the silk shade, “you have the form of the best sustainer +(parachute) that even we have yet discovered. There! +I have mentioned your principal materials, now set to +work, and do not longer disfigure your beautiful islands +with iron webs, rabbit burrows, and crawling beetles, +for such, I am told, your railway systems appear to the +inhabitants of your satellite the Moon, who have very +powerful telescopes, and are fond of gazing at their big +brother the Earth.</p> + +<p>“Really, when I come to reflect upon the condition of +you mortals, your whole system seems strange; here, six +centuries after I have left the earth, you are actually +eating and drinking just as when I was among you (and +I was no mean connoisseur of a bottle of Sack or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +Malmsey), and, consequently, you are always ill and ailing. +It therefore follows, as a matter of course, that half +of you die before there is any necessity for you to do so.</p> + +<p>“For the first thousand or two years after the Creation, +people knew what was good for them, and partook of +everything fresh and good, and lived for centuries; but +now it appears to me that you have a system in vogue +among you called adulteration, by which one half of the +community seeks to partially poison the other half, simply +to gather together as many pieces of gold as they can +hoard in a few years, and when they die they leave these +gold coins to some one else to scatter to the four winds +and the Evil One, for their so-called amusement. All +very nice, I dare say, but why do you not do as I did—work, +and discover the Philosopher’s Stone and Elixir +Vitæ! Then, having discovered them, you could be as +rich as you pleased, and live as long as you had any +desire to.”</p> + +<p>“Interrupting you,” I ventured, “would it be against +your bond to impart to me, a mortal, the secret of +those two great discoveries you claim to have made +when on earth? Would you be induced by anything I +could offer you, or do for you, to divulge the component +parts of your Elixir Vitæ?”</p> + +<p>The jolly little man laughed till his sides vibrated like +a blanc-mange, at the very idea of <i>my</i> being able to do +anything for <i>him</i>, or offer him any equivalent for his +priceless secret of continued life.</p> + +<p>“Ha! ha! Ho! ho! My friend, you would be the +death of me if it were possible to kill a spirit; I declare +I feel quite a curious feeling just where my ribs ought +to be, by indulging in such hearty laughter as I have +not experienced for quite a century.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>“My friend, I will give you the recipe for the Elixir of +Life with pleasure, as it was my own discovery <i>previous</i> +to my death, so that I may divulge it to any one I +choose. The ingredients are so simple that it is a +wonder scores of alchemists did not discover it as I did, +but doubtless it was the simplicity of the various items +that caused them to miss the mark. They searched for +curious and complex mixtures, for crystals and ores, +powders and nostrums, distillations and subtle gases, and +other things of a complex nature, when the real articles +were right under their very noses, and <i>in everyday use</i>!</p> + +<p>“Here is the solution to the buried secret; for buried +it was when they laid me in the grave six centuries +agone, for I told it to no man, nor did I take advantage +of it to prolong my own life, as I had worked so hard +that I longed for a thorough rest, and am now enjoying +it, for we spirits never tire.</p> + +<p>“Take one ounce of acetic acid, it is a preventive of +frivolity; one pound of pure alcohol, which gives spirit +and vigour whenever used; of laudanum three drams, +as a soporific giving a quiet and steady demeanour; and +add two drams of ground cloves, for spice is very preserving +to the body.</p> + +<p>“Next you add three pints of distilled water, which is +a very cleansing agent, and with it put in a few twigs of +birch, which is a capital corrective, and every man +requires somewhat of the kind at times.</p> + +<p>“Then you take a few—but I am sure you will forget +all these things, so, if you will lend me a piece of paper +and a pencil (which are things we lacked in our day), I +will write down the various ingredients and quantities for +you, and you can get them made up at any chemist’s; +here are twenty-seven ingredients in all, each good for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> +something; miss one, and you spoil the harmony of the +whole, and the prescription is useless. Everything must +be absolutely free from adulteration, or only a partial +success will be the result.”</p> + +<p>Then for a quarter of an hour he scribbled away, +occasionally pausing, and cocking his head upon one +side to recollect things which he had stored in his busy +memory centuries ago.</p> + +<p>His smoky brain revolved at a great rate as I watched +him write the formula.</p> + +<p>“There,” said he at last, as he handed me the wonderful +secret, which was to make me live to see ships float +under water, people fly through the air, and electricity +the great motive power of the world, “I think you will +find that correct, and I shall be glad to meet you here +this day one hundred years hence, to see how matters +are going with you. By the way, what is the time?”</p> + +<p>I now perceived that it was grown quite dark, and +the stars were twinkling through the trees, a fact which +I had not before noted, so absorbed had I been with the +strange conversation of my visitor.</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch.</p> + +<p>“It is five minutes past ten o’clock,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Goodness me!” said the friar; “how I shall have +to hurry. I should have left at seven o’clock, as I am +due at Mars not later than midnight, or I forfeit my +liberty for one generation; and thirty years without a +fly to some planet or other is no joke. Ta, ta!”</p> + +<p>And as I looked at my jolly friend he scared me by +suddenly becoming perfectly incandescent; he glowed for +an instant like a furnace at white heat, then with a whizz +and a flash he was gone so quickly that the eye could +only follow him for a trice, and then he disappeared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +into space; at least his bodily form disappeared by +apparently transforming itself into a star, which grew +smaller and less brilliant, till it was entirely lost amid the +myriads of others which studded the sky.</p> + +<p>I smelt for brimstone, but there was not even a sign +of it that I could detect.</p> + +<p>I felt dizzy, and stiff, and stupid, but gathering my +umbrella, books, and flask together (the latter quite +empty, by the by, possibly upset), I made for Minehead, +but found it a long and difficult walk. Sitting so long +in one position had cramped and affected my legs to such +a degree, that it was with much meandering and uncertainty +that I reached my apartments near the little pier.</p> + +<p>My wife, good soul, was waiting up for me, and as I +entered she pointed to the clock, which was then striking +twelve.</p> + +<p>Thinking of Friar Bacon, I exclaimed half aloud—“I +wonder if he reached home in time? What a flight, +thirty-five million miles in less than three hours!”</p> + +<p>At this my wife shook her head, and remarked that +bed was the best place for me; and as she kindly +assisted me to undress, I did not contradict her.</p> + +<p>When I awoke next morning I felt in a very unsettled +state of mind, and collecting my wandered +senses, I endeavoured to account to my wife for my +absence of the previous day, by telling her of my adventure +with the monk in Horner Woods. She was +moved when I told her that the paper in my waistcoat +pocket would <i>prove</i> what I asserted to be true.</p> + +<p>“Kindly feel in the right-hand pocket of my waistcoat, +get out the paper, and read for yourself,” I remarked +quietly but triumphantly.</p> + +<p>She felt as directed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>Nothing was there save a large hole!</p> + +<p>I had lost the paper; and with it my character for +veracity and the knowledge of “How to Live for Ever” +into the bargain.</p> + + +<h3>AFTER CONCLUSION OF STORY.</h3> + +<p>I hardly like to say it, but I verily believe my guest +had been drinking heavily, and that he was suffering +from <i>delirium tremens</i>, or, as it is commonly called for +conciseness, “the blues”; anyway, when he left the +caravan he was mumbling to himself, casting furtive +glances to right and left, and gesticulating very much +as he walked down the road. I am afraid I did the +poor man a great wrong in giving him so much raw +spirit; but then I console myself with the knowledge +that I was only indirectly to blame, having merely placed +the decanter upon the table, as I would for any other +visitor, and expressed a wish that he would help himself; +with which suggestion he complied by diminishing +my spirit store more rapidly than I had intended. The +following day I sent him a pamphlet upon temperance, +as a set-off against my ill-timed hospitality, and trust +that he read it with profit.</p> + +<p>My guest was such a confirmed believer in spirits +that he would have made a capital medium for any +professional spiritualist. He was familiar with almost +every spirit nameable, and had been at one time or +other possessed of them all, knowing where to find +both the best and the worst of them.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">V.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “BARBE +ROUGE.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> gentleman to whom I am indebted for the story +of the old pirate, “Barbe Rouge,” is now a well-known +artist and author, and as I knew him to be the hero of +several adventures, I was anxious to obtain a story from +him. Having gained an introduction to him, I put myself +in his way when passing through Norwich. After a +long chat, he expressed a wish to inspect my caravan, +which I had left at Thorpe, the prettiest village in +Norfolk, so we strolled down to it together.</p> + +<p>Being of a roving and adventurous disposition, he +showed great delight at my house on wheels and its +comfortable internal arrangements, and having friends +at Lynn whom he wished to visit, he begged to be +allowed to accompany me on my journey as far as the +borders of the county. I readily acquiesced, and found +him such a companionable fellow, that our roundabout +journey to Lynn—distant some fifty miles by the +nearest road from Norwich—actually took us <i>three +weeks</i> to accomplish. My comrade was delighted with +the gipsy life, and but that his leisure time was at an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> +end, he would have accompanied me further on my +progress through the fens of Lincolnshire.</p> + +<p>We met with several adventures while we were together, +one of which I must relate.</p> + +<p>Harry Nilford (such was my friend’s name) strolled +out one evening to indulge in a bath, while I stayed in +to cook the supper, it being my day for <i>chef</i> duty; and +as we were camped within a mile of the sea, between +Blakeney and Morston, I expected him back in about +an hour or rather more, but it was upwards of two hours +before he returned, looking very excited. He had taken +my gun with him, thinking it very probable that he +might come across a stray rabbit for the pot, and I +naturally inferred, from his sparkling eyes, that he had +been successful in his quest.</p> + +<p>“What do you think I’ve shot, old fellow?”</p> + +<p>“Rabbits?”</p> + +<p>“No; guess again. Something bigger and rarer.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, a hare?”</p> + +<p>“No—bigger and rarer still,” said he, smiling at my +puzzled look.</p> + +<p>I guessed all kinds of things, but was every time +wrong, so I asked the question—</p> + +<p>“Is it fish, fowl, or fur?” I have heard of large fish +being shot, so included it in my query.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said my friend, “it is fur, and I might almost +say fish also, for it is a splendid swimmer.”</p> + +<p>I puzzled over the riddle for some time, and then, +after having failed in guessing an otter, gave it up as +something beyond me.</p> + +<p>“Then if you cannot guess, or even get near it, I +will tell you. It was <i>a seal</i>—a very rare visitor to this +coast indeed, in fact, such a thing has not been seen for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> +many years along the hundred miles of coast which +bounds the county of Norfolk.”</p> + +<p>He had shot the seal as it flippered itself along the +yielding sand, upon which it had been basking, to make +its escape to the sea. Both barrels, however, did not +suffice to kill it, and the animal got to the water, and +would have made its escape, although severely wounded, +had not Harry rushed into the sea and given the soft-eyed +seal its quietus with the butt of the gun.</p> + +<p>It was too heavy for him to bring away, and was, +moreover, covered with blood, so he dug a shallow +trench in the sand, and placing the body in it, covered +it up and left it.</p> + +<p>We arranged to go down to the beach early in the +morning and bring our prize back in triumph; accordingly, +about seven o’clock next day, we went, but to +our astonishment the seal was gone!</p> + +<p>Could it have revived and made its escape?</p> + +<p>We searched about for signs.</p> + +<p>We noticed footmarks leading down to the water’s +edge, and also the prints of a dog’s paws in the sand, +and, lower down still, we saw where the keel of a boat +had cut its way when rowed ashore and beached.</p> + +<p>We put these things together, and came to the conclusion +that my friend had been watched and the seal +stolen after his departure. Anyway it was gone; and +although we inquired at both Blakeney and Morston, +and offered a reward, we could learn no tidings of the +missing animal.</p> + +<p>We went sorrowfully on our way, and two days after +were at Burnham Thorpe (Nelson’s birthplace), when we +heard at the village inn of a hairy mermaid being exhibited +at Brancaster. We took no notice of the news<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> +but when we reached the village with a Roman name, +we found the people quite excited over the wonderful +mermaid, and with numerous other visitors paid our +pennies to go in and see the curiosity—when behold, it +was Harry’s seal!</p> + +<p>Of course Harry demanded it, but the men would not +give it up, and as Brancaster does not contain a policeman, +force had to be resorted to. My friend was a +big, strong fellow, and I being scarcely less in size or +strength, we made a good fight of it, and placed the seal +in my van and made off. The villagers became very +abusive and threatening, and many missiles were thrown +at us, but we got away as quickly as possible, I handling +the reins, and Harry keeping off the crowd with a gun in +one hand and a whip, which he used pretty freely, in the +other.</p> + +<p>We had three panes of glass broken, sundry cuts and +bruises, and a black eye, which latter fell to my lot, +on our side. We could not quite tell the number of +the evening’s casualties; all we knew was that more than +one bloody nose and contused cheek were to be seen.</p> + +<p>The seal was skinned and dressed in Lynn, and Harry +had a waistcoat made for himself, and a fine lappet +cap for me, which has been a great comfort in winter +travelling, when the easterly winds are blowing.</p> + +<p>The following story of “Barbe Rouge” he kindly +touched up, at my request, after I had written it, as I +received it from his lips while in a mesmeric state, for, +being a story within a story, it is rather difficult of interpretation. +The case stands thus: “Barbe Rouge,” a +piratical sea dog of the eighteenth century, enacted a +tragedy, of which he left a record, which record, a +hundred odd years later, was found by my friend, Harry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +Nilford, on the Isle of Jethou, one of the Channel Isles. +The story of the tragedy he committed to memory, and +in a hypnotic state recounted to me.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> Being a complex +story I have, as I mention above, requested him to touch +it up here and there. This he has done with the +following result.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> Those of my readers who would like to read the adventures +of Harry Nilford should obtain <i>Jethou, or Crusoe Life in the +Channel Isles</i>, published by Messrs. Jarrold and Sons, 10 and 11, +Warwick Lane, London, E.C.</p> + +</div> + +<h3>BARBE ROUGE.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Visitors</span> to Guernsey will remember that opposite +the entrance to the Harbour of St. Peter Port, at a +distance of about three miles, lies a curiously-shaped +island called Jethou, which rises from the sea in a graceful +curve, and looks at first sight like an immense turtle, +or a huge floating dish-cover. It is a small island, +probably not more than a third of a mile long and a +quarter of a mile broad, but is so steep, that in the centre +it reaches an altitude approaching three hundred feet.</p> + +<p>It is a solid granite island, covered in most parts with +bracken and furze, which makes it a very paradise for +the rabbits with which it abounds. There are two +small stone-built houses upon it, around one of which +is a prolific fruit and vegetable garden. There are +out-buildings attached, and at a distance of nearly a +quarter of a mile from the white house is an apology for +a harbour.</p> + +<p>It is a remarkably nice place for a holiday—sunny, +healthy, quiet, and not too far from aid in case of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +sickness or accident; but it is not a resort for the general +public, being private property.</p> + +<p>It was on this island that in 186— a young Norfolk +gentleman elected to spend twelve months as a recluse, +or as he was pleased to term it—a Crusoe.</p> + +<p>He went to the island for two reasons; one of which +was the anticipation of a happy and adventurous time, +and the other the winning of a wager (that he would +not leave the island before twelve months had expired). +In neither object was he disappointed.</p> + +<p>While papering the walls of his little sitting-room, +he had the good fortune to find a parchment, hidden +away in a niche in the wall, which had hitherto been +concealed by the thick covering of wall-paper, of which +he peeled off no less than five layers. He had read +Edgar Allen Poe’s story of “The Golden Beetle,” and +finding a parchment covered with hieroglyphics, he +surmised that if he could only decipher it there might +be as thrilling a sequel as followed on the solution of +the cryptogram in Poe’s story.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately he was not so clever as the man in the +story, and failed—unassisted—in discovering the secret +of the parchment.</p> + +<p>The puzzling document was a list of some sort which +the finder could not understand, as it was in French; +beneath it was a drawing of a square with a human +skull in the centre, from which radiated lines ending in +certain letters, and having figures upon the rays.</p> + +<p>The solution was discovered, however, after the young +Crusoe had been on the island for upwards of twelve +months (he stayed eighteen months in all), and in a +most unexpected manner.</p> + +<p>Being a Crusoe, it was not at all a surprising matter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> +that he should have a man Friday, and one day during +a storm a Friday really did appear, in the form of a +French sailor, whose little vessel was wrecked upon the +hostile granite shores of Jethou. The man saved, the +sole survivor of a crew of four, was at once christened +Monday, from the day on which he was saved. This +man (Alec Ducas) spoke very fair English, and the two +young men soon became fast friends.</p> + +<p>One day the young Englishman, whose name was +Harry Nilford, bethought him of his curious parchment, +and producing it from his box, asked his friend if he +could decipher it. The first part of the document was +quickly read, and no doubt astonished the finder. It +was as follows—</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">This is the Last Will</span> of Jean Tussaud (sometimes +known as Barbe Rouge), Master Mariner, of +C——.</p> + +<p>“The person who is lucky enough to find my treasure-house, +I hereby declare to be my heir, and whatsoever +he finds shall be his, and for his sole benefit.</p> + +<p>“My chief mate, William Trefry, a Cornishman, +wished to become my heir before my death, but we +could not agree upon that point, although I gave him +possession of my <i>petites fées</i> (little fairies) and a key, +also a valuable knife, for an inheritance. The bearings +of my treasure-house are these.”</p> + +<p>Then followed the curious drawing with the death’s-head +centre, followed by the words—“The lucky one +will find the following property.”</p> + +<p>Here followed a long list of the articles stowed away; +winding up with the words—“and my box of pretty +<i>petites fées</i>.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>“I leave Jethou to-night to make a voyage to the West +Indies, to see what business can be done there. I leave +this paper so that, should I never return, the goods I +have so industriously, and at such risk, gathered together, +may be of service to the person who may have skill +enough to discover their whereabouts.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“Signed, <span class="smcap">Jean Tussaud</span> (Barbe Rouge),</span><br> +“<i>February 19, 17—</i>.”</p> +</div> + +<p>For weeks the two young men puzzled their wits over +the document; but to abbreviate this narrative,<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> they +ultimately succeeded in discovering the place of +concealment.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[B]</a> The unravelling of the enigma may be found in <i>Jethou</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<p>It was in the centre of the garden, at the rear of the +house, and after great toil in digging they came upon +the skeleton of a man, and were about to fill up the +large hole they had made, imagining, in their horror, +that they had come upon a grave instead of a treasure-house, +when one of them saw a glittering something +protruding from the sternum of the skeleton, which +proved to be the jewelled haft of a dagger, which had +undoubtedly given the death-blow to the tenant of the +grave, being driven in with immense force, up to the +hilt, quite through the breast-bone. Clearing the bony +relic, they found, suspended around the neck, by a length +of silver chain, which was much oxidized, a couple of +rusty keys.</p> + +<p>This discovery led them to connect the skeleton with +the mate, Trefry, mentioned in the document, and they +continued their search, which was rewarded by their +finding a large collection of miscellaneous articles,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> +among which were numerous weapons, bundles of gold +lace, several cups of the same metal, packages of once +costly clothing and fine linen (now mouldering with age), +copes, chasubles, and a beautiful jewelled mitre wrapped +in a bullock’s hide, boots, sashes, etc.</p> + +<p>Beneath all these, in a hollowed space, was a chest +securely padlocked, which was duly hoisted out and +burst open, and in it were discovered seventeen bags, +each containing a hundred Spanish doubloons, three +parchment books, and last, but far from least, a small +golden casket of exquisite workmanship, filled quite full +of precious stones in their natural, rough state, except +a very few which were cut and polished. In all they +would have filled a pint measure. These were Barbe +Rouge’s <i>petites fées</i>—his little fairies.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Now what I have recounted so far is a kind of prologue +to what follows. The purport of my story is to show +how the skeleton came in the treasure vault, which was +opened by our good friends, Nilford and Ducas, with +whom, however, we have nothing further to do.</p> + +<p>I must point out that the following narrative is what +I have gathered from the pages of one of the three +books found in “Barbe Rouge’s” chest, two of them +being logs of his voyages (and <i>such</i> voyages), and the +third a kind of private diary. I have pieced together +the somewhat disconnected jottings of Red Beard into +the following story, drawing <i>slightly</i> on my imagination +to fill in the gaps.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>On the morning of April 28, 175—, the vessel owned +and commanded by “Barbe Rouge,” called <i>La Chauve-souris</i>, +was lying quietly at anchor in the little haven at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> +the back of the lofty pinnacle of rocks known as La +Creviçhon, for she was to sail on the morrow, or the +second day at latest, for a cruise in the West Indies. +She was a smart little schooner, mounting ten guns, and +carried the large complement of thirty-eight men, for +she was what the French Government were pleased to +call a licensed privateer, although, if public report went +for anything, she might with more propriety have been +stigmatized as something with a much more ugly name. +Whatever people might call her was no concern of Jean +Tussaud (which was Barbe Rouge’s real name), <i>he</i> called +her a privateer, and so we also will call her, for the word +<i>pirate</i> is not at all a nice-sounding word.</p> + +<p>She had some weeks previously returned from a very +prosperous cruise in the Mediterranean, and although +she came home short-handed, to the extent of eight men, +she brought with her, as some sort of human equivalent, +two very fine women, both of whom were young and +handsome.</p> + +<p>One was a fair Circassian damsel called Retté, and +her companion, an English girl named Mary Whitford. +These fair ones Barbe Rouge had taken from an Algerian +vessel which he intercepted on her voyage from Cyprus +to Dargelli, whither the girls were being conveyed to +the sheik Obdurrah, as reinforcements for his harem. +How the girl Mary Whitford could thus be sold +Tussaud’s book says not; but he captured her, and +brought her and Retté to Jethou, where he took them +ashore to his stone house, much to the regret of William +Trefry, the mate, who had fallen greatly in love with +Mary during the voyage home. Barbe Rouge saw what +was in the wind, and watched the couple unnoticed, but +with a hawky, jealous eye.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>Trefry feared his skipper, for he had seen him perform +cruel deeds that made the boldest heart on board +tremble, and because Barbe Rouge’s giant form possessed +the strength of two men; so, fearing any personal encounter, +he resolved by stratagem to carry out a scheme +for Mary’s release which he had been elaborating during +the last few days of the voyage.</p> + +<p>He foresaw that the two girls would be immediately +taken ashore on the arrival of <i>La Chauve-souris</i> at +Jethou, and with this in view he arranged two or three +plots with Mary, by which they might escape together +to Guernsey; they also arranged a set of private signals +with which to communicate with each other.</p> + +<p>As anticipated, an hour after reaching the haven of +Jethou, Mary and Retté were taken ashore, and, alas for +their hopes, the girls were quartered in a room which did +<i>not</i> overlook the haven; and furthermore, they were only +allowed out for exercise after dusk, when their jealous +protector, Barbe Rouge, accompanied them for a walk +round the island.</p> + +<p>Thus were their signals of no more avail than a wink +in the dark.</p> + +<p>The days sped rapidly; boats went to and from St. +Peter Port bringing stores and taking various goods +for sale. Half-a-dozen carpenters and a smith, besides +the sailmaker and others, were busy with the ship’s hull +and rigging, refitting and altering, repairing and renewing +all kinds of gear, and over these men was placed +Trefry, to whom the whole crew looked up as skipper +during Barbe Rouge’s frequent and prolonged absences +ashore on Jethou.</p> + +<p>The young Englishman gnawed his very heart away +in devising schemes for Mary’s release, and his eyes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> +grew weary with looking for the preconcerted signals +from her, but none ever appeared.</p> + +<p>Could she have forgotten him?</p> + +<p>Was it a case of “out of sight out of mind”? No, +that could never be, for the girl’s anxious desire was to +escape, and reach her dear old Yorkshire home, from +which she had been absent nearly two years. She had +left it to take a trip on her uncle’s bark, <i>The Develin</i>, +from Whitby to Samos in the Grecian Archipelago, in +company with her brother, who was two years her senior.</p> + +<p>They reached Samos safely, but one morning, her +uncle and brother being ashore, two native boatmen +came alongside, one of whom, in fair English, said the +old gentleman had sent them “to fetch Mary, to show +her some of the sights of the place.” Mary accordingly +seated herself in their boat, but the men took her to +another port, a league up the coast, and thus kidnapped +her.</p> + +<p>As the days before sailing to the West grew fewer, +Trefry became nearly mad with his pent-up feelings; +but in the presence of Barbe Rouge had to dissemble +and assume as calm a countenance and manner as he +possibly could, although at heart he could have wished +the old pirate hung at the end of his own gaff.</p> + +<p>Only two or three days intervened before the date of +sailing, and his very appetite forsook him, and he could +not help glaring at the skipper whenever they met; but +Barbe Rouge, with an imperturbable countenance, took no +notice of the mate’s despair, although he well knew what +was passing in his heart; he saw the young fellow’s +terrible struggle with himself, and gloated over it.</p> + +<p>Trefry dared not make an open show of concern about +Mary, as even at the last moment there might arrive the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +opportunity for a rescue, so he held his peace till the +morning of April 28th.</p> + +<p>As the first grey streak of dawn appeared in the N.E. +Trefry stepped on deck and strained his eyes towards +the stone house on shore. It was too dark to discern +anything in the form of a signal, but he looked ever and +anon, and to his great joy did not look in vain.</p> + +<p>He could scarce believe his eyes when he saw something +appear out of and above a chimney on the old +house. It was but a wisp of rag, but it was quite sufficient +to denote its purpose as a signal, and Trefry knew its +meaning to be an urgent appeal for succour.</p> + +<p>One or two of the crew also saw it, and it soon became +known to the whole ship’s company that the girls were +making signals for help; but, though comments were +many, no one dared take any action, for the crew of <i>La +Chauve-souris</i> was, as often happens on privateers and +suchlike vessels, divided into little coteries, each afraid +of, or watching the actions of the others.</p> + +<p>Barbe Rouge had devotees numbering about twenty, +while those whom Trefry could rely upon to take his +view of anything on the tapis, he could count on the +fingers of his two hands.</p> + +<p>Moreover only one day remained. What could he do?</p> + +<p>He thought over many schemes for liberating the +girls, but could not hit upon one likely to be successful; +so, finding his own imaginative faculties at fault, he +called two or three of his more intimate cronies together, +and placed the case before them in a council in the +captain’s cabin, while one kept watch.</p> + +<p>Many suggestions were made, of various degrees of +practical merit, some indeed so sieve-like that they +would not hold the water of common-sense at all. +Trefry soon found that, great burly brute as he was,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +Barbe Rouge had a strong following of staunch men on +board; men who loved the skipper because their natures +were coarse and rough, and who saw in him the beau-ideal +of brute strength, stature, and power to command: +his very courage and daring delighted them. Sentiment, +and the wrongs of others, were nothing to such as +they.</p> + +<p>Trefry found that, all told, he could only count on +eleven others besides himself to help him in the contemplated +carrying off of the two girls; but, to better equalize +the numbers, he determined, after dark, to give leave to +six or eight of the skipper’s staunchest men to take the +long-boat, and pull across to Guernsey for a spree.</p> + +<p>This was agreed to as part of the programme; and it +was also agreed, that at eleven o’clock that night he +should go ashore alone to the stone house, and bring off +the girls, while his eleven comrades should arm themselves +(from the arm-chest, of which he had the key), and make +themselves masters of the ship while he was ashore.</p> + +<p>The day passed slowly by, and the shades of night at +length fell, draping its mantle of deepening blue over the +pretty little island.</p> + +<p>At eleven o’clock Trefry, well armed, went ashore as +arranged.</p> + +<p>The night was dark, for there was no moon, and +calm, for there was but little wind.</p> + +<p>Quietly he crept round the side of the house, and +taking off his boots went up the stone steps leading to +the garden at the rear, where he quickly became aware +of a faint glow of light rising from behind a tremendous +mound of earth in the very centre of the garden.</p> + +<p>He paused and listened; then silently crept across +the garden on all fours to the mound, up which he +as noiselessly climbed, and peeped over.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>He beheld a great excavation several feet square, from +which the light came, and peering over the edge, he saw +on the opposite side of the wall of the hole, the shadow +of Barbe Rouge’s great head and beard, projected by +the light of a lantern placed on this side of the pit. +The shadow moved but slightly, showing that the +fiery skipper was deeply engrossed in some task or +other of a weird nature, or he would not have chosen +night for his work.</p> + +<p>Like a flash of light it entered Trefry’s brain that +the old buccaneer had killed the girls, or at least one +of them, and was now hiding the evidences of his guilt +by burying the body in the garden.</p> + +<p>However, there <i>might</i> still be a chance that they +were alive; and not to leave a stone unturned, he +resolved, now that he knew Barbe Rouge was in the +hole, to go round the house and gently tap at each +window, to endeavour to obtain a response from those +he was in quest of. This idea he carried into effect, +but without receiving any reply to his tapping, and +he again went to the mound and peeped over—Barbe +Rouge was still busy, as his shadow, bobbing about in +the uncertain light of the horn lantern, proved.</p> + +<p>Could it be possible that the skipper had left the +door of the house unlocked? He would see at all events, +and back to the house he went. Upon pressing the +handle, to his great joy the door swung back, and he +quietly entered. For fear of being discovered, should +Barbe Rouge enter the doorway, he leaned a stick, which +he found in the passage, against the door on the inside, +so that any one entering from without could not fail +to knock it down with a clatter upon the stone floor, +and thus give him warning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>Carefully he searched each of the five rooms which +the house contained, breathing ever and anon the +names of Mary and Retté, but when he came to the +last room, and found it empty, his feelings overcame +him, and, but for some wine which he discovered on +a table, he would certainly have fainted with horror, +thinking that his Mary and her companion had been +cruelly murdered, and were now being buried by his +captain, the dreadful Barbe Rouge.</p> + +<p>More wine; and then he gradually grew into a +frenzy, swearing that but one task remained, which +ere he left Jethou should be accomplished.</p> + +<p>This was to revenge the deaths of Mary and Retté by +killing the monster who was now sitting in the pit, +which in another minute should be his tomb. Burning +with rage, so that he shook in every limb, he had +difficulty in calming his feelings sufficiently to accomplish +his task in an unfailing manner.</p> + +<p>He paused to calm his quivering nerves, and then +went gently along the passage, pistol in hand, to where +he had left the broom-stick at the door. It remained +as he had left it; so he quietly leaned it against the +wall, and nervously began to open the door, for fear +the giant’s form might be about to enter.</p> + +<p>Inch by inch it opened and he peeped out.</p> + +<p>All was quiet.</p> + +<p>With his pistol still grasped tightly he made for the +mound, intending to shoot Barbe Rouge in his self-made +grave, but before reaching the spot, he fell prone over +a large piece of granite rock; he lay perfectly still, for +fear Barbe Rouge should peep out of his hole to see +what had caused the noise.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_120a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_120a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“Suddenly a heavy hand seized him from behind.”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>For some minutes he lay silent but alert; then, as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>the skipper did not appear, he arose, returned his +flintlock to his belt, and picked up the huge stone at +his feet.</p> + +<p>This he resolved should be the instrument of Barbe +Rouge’s death—a stone for a dog—reserve the bullet +for a nobler foe!</p> + +<p>Up the bank of earth he staggered with his burden. +Yes! Barbe Rouge was still at work—he could see his +white stocking cap and the shaggy red locks beneath; +so, pausing, he raised the mass of stone high above +his head, thinking to hurl it down with crushing force +upon the cranium of the monster below, when suddenly +a heavy hand seized him from behind, and the stone, +losing its balance, fell from his grasp with a thud into +the hole. He gave one glance round, his last on this +earth, for his eyes met the infuriated orbs of Barbe +Rouge himself, who, with a stroke swift as sight, drove +a long keen dagger deep into the young Englishman’s +breast. Without a groan he fell dead into the yawning +gulf before him.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>With a chuckle at the success of his fiendish work, +Barbe Rouge quietly descended a short ladder into +the great vault he had dug, and took out a book from +an iron-bound chest at the bottom, in which he calmly +wrote certain notes, stating that he had killed Trefry +for endeavouring to meddle with his “<i>petites fées</i>,” or +little fairies, but whether he referred to the two girls +or the gems is not very evident.</p> + +<p>Trefry was a doomed man from the time he stepped +ashore, as, through a spy on board <i>La Chauve-souris</i>, +Barbe Rouge was cognizant of all that had taken place +on board the schooner. He received information that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +Trefry would come ashore between eleven and twelve, +and had prepared a ruse to deceive and place him +at his mercy.</p> + +<p>He made a dummy head with a red tow wig and +beard in imitation of himself, and on the top placed +his old white stocking cap. This little device was +fixed at the bottom of the excavation upon a cross +pole fastened to an upright. At the end of the cross +pole which touched the ground a live rabbit was +fastened, that, moving about a foot from right to left, +the dummy head was made to oscillate. A lantern was +so placed as to throw a shadow of the head upon the +side of the pit farthest from the house, and the trap +thus artfully baited caused the downfall of the gallant +young Cornishman, Trefry.</p> + +<p>Barbe Rouge signified his intention of leaving Jethou +with his fair ones next day for a voyage to the West +Indies, and from a record in a St. Peter Port document, +we find that he actually did sail on May 1st, after giving +a grand farewell entertainment to many of the good +townspeople of St. Peter Port on the previous evening.</p> + +<p>Thus we see that virtue is not always triumphant, +and that every dog has his day, including the somewhat +numerous species known as the Sea Dog.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>After a year or two I met the adventurous Nilford +again, when he informed me that he had put my van +quite in the shade by a novel idea of his own. It +appears that he was so struck with my mode of life +that he purchased an old gipsy-van, and rambled about +in it for a week or two together, just when the fit seized<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> +him. Then the idea occurred to him of making a pair +of boats, into which the wheels of his van were fitted, +and by decking the space fore and aft between the +boats, he went all over the Broads, and finally coasted +it to Essex, whence he had the good or ill luck to be +blown over to Holland. As he has written the history +of his adventures, it is no business of mine further to +divulge them here, but will content myself with calling +the reader’s attention to a book entitled, <i>Afloat in a +Gipsy Van</i>.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[C]</a> Jarrold and Sons, 10 and 11, Warwick Lane, London, E.C.</p> + +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">VI.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “ROBIN HOOD +IN WINTER.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> somehow a knack of running against men +who, without being notable, have still something in +their composition which makes them conspicuous among +their fellows. Such a man was he from whom I obtained +the following story; for it was told me first by my +informant <i>vivâ voce</i>, and afterwards corrected by him, +with an ancient quill pen, which had a habit now and +again of spattering the ink, after the fashion of a +pyrotechnic display, wherever there happened to be any +roughness of the paper. He loved the antique, and +lived a long way in rear of the times; quill pens were +natural pens, he said, and he would have nothing to do +with the modern steel rubbish, as he disdainfully termed +our great up-to-date invention. His house, furniture, +and clothes were antique, and so were his very person, +face, and figure.</p> + +<p>He was short, thin, curved, and drab. I say drab, +because no other colour will so well describe his +complexion, which was of a parchment hue, and of the +same leathery texture. Small slits of eyes, a hooked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> +nose, wide mouth with thin lips, hollow cheeks, and a +broad and high forehead; that was the facial appearance +of my learned friend, the antiquary.</p> + +<p>I met him near Birmingham, whither he had been to +purchase a bundle of old books, with which he was +wearily toiling onward to his village home. He sat by +the roadside on a grassy bank with his treasures, girt +about by a strong leathern strap, by his side.</p> + +<p>Being a very hot day, the old man had a large red +bandana handkerchief in his hand, with which he patted +his perspiring face. I asked him, by way of obtaining +an opening for a conversation, if I was on the right +road to Coventry, whereupon he informed me that he +was walking to Meridew, a distance of twelve miles +along the road to Coventry, and if I would give him a +lift he would act as guide.</p> + +<p>I obliged the old man, although I knew the road +perfectly, having travelled the district before, but, as I +love companionship, I thought it a good opportunity for +indulging my hobby.</p> + +<p>I found the old gentleman excellent company, and +on arriving at Meridew, discovered that he owned a very +pretty, little, old-fashioned house standing in its own +grounds. Being both good talkers, and our ideas +running mainly in the same groove, my new friend +invited me to spend a few days with him, and I gladly +availed myself of his kind hospitality.</p> + +<p>The story of “Robyn Hode in Winter” he had discovered +at an old book shop at Coventry, and was +lucky enough to become owner of the precious document, +for the insignificant but handy coin yclept a +shilling. He had read and re-read the old parchment +so many times, that he had quite got it by heart, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> +so much had it engrossed his mind, that when I put +him to sleep one evening he reproduced it vocally, as if +he were reciting it to an audience.</p> + +<p>He had at different times discovered other very +curious documents, copies of which he pressed upon me, +and some of them I may, at a future time, venture to +inflict upon the indulgent public.</p> + + +<h3>ROBIN HOOD IN WINTER.</h3> + +<p>I, <span class="smcap">Roger Aylmer</span>, clerke to ye Abbot of Croweland +Abbey in Lincolnshire, doe hereby sweare that what I +herein do write is ye fulle and whole truth and nothing +but ye truth of my seizure by ye outlawe Robyn Hode, +and that which I do heare write is to prove to ye +Abbot of Fountaines Abbey in Yorkshire, that I dyd +to ye best of my mighte and courage, seek to protect +ye goodes belonging to him from ye rascally outlawe; +which sayd goodes were in my keepynge when they +were by force y’parted from me.</p> + +<p>In October 1196 Our goode Father ye Abbot (of +Croweland) dyd receiue from Fountaines Abbey, an +order for certain goodes to be sent thither, to wit: six +score yardes of Lincolne cloth, three score yardes of +scarlet cloth, certain rolles of leather and sundrie other +goodes.</p> + +<p>I was sent offe with four serving men and two +yeomen, to whom, partly, we looked for sustenance on +our way, as the forests of Nottingham Shire and Barneys +Dale doe abound in many and gret dere, which be ye +Kyng hys property. Nevertheless, ye Kyng being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +away in Palestyne fightynge ye Paynim, men doe take +of hys dere withouten leve.</p> + +<p>Our traine dyd consist of six mules, bearing ye +goodes, and seven others which dyd beare myself and +my menne. Ye weather being clere and colde we dyd +make right goode waye, passing safely thro’ the forests +of Notts wyth but one mishappe.</p> + +<p>At a lowe parte in a woode we dyd com upon a +boggy place, near unto which was a gret pool of water, +engirdled rounde about with rushes and eke with tall +redes, and thynkinge it might be goode to water our +mules there, we dyd caste about for a patheway, to +lede to the sayd water, which anon we dyd find.</p> + +<p>The yeomen led ye way, but we had not far advanced +when a gret wild boare, with horrid snortyngs and +squeals dyd attack one of oure mules, and although +both yeomen with their longbows dyd fill him with +sundrie arrowes, yet dyd he not desist from his bellowing +and goreing. Then straightway dyd ye bowels of ye +mule gush out upon ye grounde from ye tearing of ye +crewel tarshes of ye boare.</p> + +<p>Seeing this, one of ye serving men dyd thrust thro’ +the boare hys bodie, a great spere, and fixed him to ye +earthe; nevertheless no manne dare venture near, so +gret was ye rage of ye furious beast. Then dyd ye +serving men set upon him and overcame him, so that +he preasently dyd dye, and from hys carcase we dyd +make a fulle hearty meale.</p> + +<p>Ye mule which was y’stricken ded, was that on which +we dyd carry our cooking gear, the which being packed +upon a freshe mule, he dyd rebel at ye noise of the +tinne and copper pottes and pannes, which as he dyd +gambol and kicke dyd make much dullor, till the mule<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> +being tyred with his prancynge did act more peacefully +and get him gone quietly.</p> + +<p>Anon we reached ye forest of Barneys Dale, which as +alle menne know is ye chiefest haunte of that rascal +outlawe, Robyn Hode and hys menne.</p> + +<p>Entering into ye forest my menne dyd beg me to goe +around, for feare we might mete with ye bold robber, +to which I dyd reply that “Were it in the days of +summer, ye name of Robyn Hode might scare even +me; a manne of much courage and stomach for ye +fighte; but it being the wintertyde, I cared nought +for hym, as he woulde be hyding in some snugge +village on ye craggy moors. I woulde therefore hie me +thro’ ye forest, without let or hynderance, and see what +manner of place Robyn dyd love, and that with mine +owne eyen.”</p> + +<p>Into Barneys Dale we rode right merrilie, one of +ye serving menne playing blythely upon his sackbutt, +y’whylst I dyd sing songs most lustilie, soe that when +we dyd join our voices in chorus, the foreste dyd helpe +us greatly to swell ye sounde, which dyd echo and ringe +against ye gret bowes and bolls of ye trees. Thys +dyd we to keep in goode hearte, and while we dyd thus +divert ourselves, it being towards ye houre of noone, +we dyd com to a gret cliffe, near which dyd grow +manny noble trees, and at ye feet of ye cliffe dyd laye +a mass of tangled underwood and a faire barne or +storehouse.</p> + +<p>As ye winde dyd blowe somewhat sore, and ye gret +cliffe dyd give shelter therefrom, we dyd alite from our +mules, intending there to dress our victuals.</p> + +<p>Finding a patheway or loke to ye foote of ye cliffe, +we dyd secure its shelter and lited us a fire, which was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> +thereby screened from ye colde winde. Then dyd we +perceive that ye cliffe was full of gret holes and caves, +some of which were stopped uppe with rough bordes +of wode against them, which dyd make us marvel what +might be behinde them.</p> + +<p>Then did we guess what they mought be; and some +sayd it maye be soe and soe, and others sayed it is thys +or that, till one sayd it maye be ye hiding-place of +Robyn Hode, in ye faire tyme of ye yeare, but others +sayd no, it is a place for woodemen and they who doe +mynd cattel.</p> + +<p>But one of my serving men being curious to knowe +what was within these caves, dyd with hys handes +begin to pull downe some of ye boardes, ye which dyd +make a kynd of doorway, whereupon came an arrow, +which dyd pin hys hande to the woode, and he dyd +cry out in gret payn for us to release him.</p> + +<p>Then ran forward Thomas à Boston, one of ye yeomen, +to give succor, but whan he dyd put forthe hys +hande to plucke out the arrowe from hys comrade, +straiteway flew anoder arrowe, which smiting him on ye +face, dyd pierce his two cheekes, soe that ye feathers of +the arrowe were wet with hys bloude.</p> + +<p>Anon came a loude voice which alle might heare, +though ye speaker no manne coulde see:</p> + +<p>“Stande alle! Upon ye erthe your weapons +throwe.”</p> + +<p>Thys we dyd, when there advanced into ye lytell +open space before ye caves, a stalwart man y’clad in +green clothe of goode pryce, having in his hande a long-bowe +to which an arrow was notched. At his right +side he dyd weare a goodlie sword, and from his left +shouder hung a crooked horne. He hadde on a mantel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> +of sad color, but of thicke texture, to keepe him from +ye inclemency of ye weather.</p> + +<p>“Who seeke you here?” he cry’d. “Why brake you +downe in wantonness ye dwelling of a poore forester?”</p> + +<p>Then dyd I answer him and saye—</p> + +<p>“We be but poore wayfayrers halting on our way +to cook our store of victuals, and dyd but mene to peep +into the caves, to see if aney manne dyd dwell therein +this winter of the yeare.”</p> + +<p>Then dyd ye manne, with a gret oathe, declare that +never dyd he see a poore traveller wend his waye +through the forest with such goodlie retinue and beastes, +and that he must firste enquire into my state, before +I went thitherfrom.</p> + +<p>With that he tooke his bugle and dyd blowe a lusty +blast upon hys curled horne, and anon came a reply +from far awaye in ye foreste.</p> + +<p>Then ye bold robber, for we dyd guess it was Robyn +himself, dyd set him on ye gnarléd root of a gret tree +and waited patiently; and soe perforce dyd we, being +afeard of ye man. Nevertheless, I dyd gaze my fyll +upon ye bolde outlawe before me, and marry, he was +a right sturdy fellow, tall, and of a proportionate bignesse +of lymbe, comely of feature, and with a swarthy visage, +hys hair and beard of ye sloes colour, and eke had he +the eyen of ye falcon; a very proper manne was he +and in hys pryme.</p> + +<p>Anon as we dyd gaze upon him, and he at us, he dyd +put to us sundrie questions, which we dyd answer him +very civilly. As he dyd thus question us, and no man +dyd come to the sounde of the robber’s bugle, my other +yeoman, Robert Baldrow, dyd rise up and saye to +Robyn—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>“Fellow, why doste thou stop peaceful travellers? +Thou arte but one manne and I another, and a staffe in +my hande is as goode as one in thine. Have at thee, +knave!” and straightway he dyd springe before Robyn, +quarter-staffe in hande. Whereat Robyn set an arrow +to his bowe, makyng as if he would shoote, at the +which Baldrow dyd cry out, “A knave! a coward +knave!!”</p> + +<p>Then dyd Robyn droppe his bow and to it they went +right merrile.</p> + +<p>My manne Baldrow’s bloode was uppe, and eke was +it downe, for Robyn dyd give him such sounding +thwacks, that the bloode did run adoune his cheekes +and drippe from his chin. Robyn, too, got manie a +knock which was harde, and his blacke bearde was rede +with blode alsoe.</p> + +<p>Bothe dyd swat greatlie, and blowe them like unto +oxen, till Robyn by a swingyne blowe, did bring +Baldrow downe upon the grounde, where he did crye +lustelie for mercie.</p> + +<p>While thys fighte dyd last, many great and lyttle +men dyd hedge us arounde, till there were quite a score +and a halfe of them, and he who appeared to be their +leader was in stature ye largest man my eyen dyd ever +lite upon. When he stode besyde Robyn, his shoulder +was a fulle ynch taller than Robyn hys head; nor +was he a thin wastreyl of a manne, but proper and +strong withall, and of about ye same age as Robyn +Hode, who dyd say he had y’seen thirty and fyve +summers.</p> + +<p>While the fighte dyd last, my four serving men, who +be doubtless arrant knaves, dyd steal away with four +of ye mules layden with sundrie goodes, which Robyn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> +percevyng, he dyd secretly send hys men in searche of +them, and in goode time they dyd bring them backe, +and deliver them bound to Robyn.</p> + +<p>Then Robyn swore a gret othe, that he had never met +such scurvy knaves, and did cause them to be bound +with cordes to the trunks of fallen trees, with their +faces downwards. Then did foure of hys men belabour +their breeches with pliable saplings of ye ashe tree, till +their strength gave out, when the gret giant, whose +name I did afterward find to be Lytell John, did tell +the whipped varlets to begone. But so sore were their +hams that they dyd but stir at the snail hys pace, +makynge y’while loud and sundry bemoanings, and +walking in muche variety of postures for they were sore +hurte.</p> + +<p>My mules were meantyme kindly treated, for their +burdeyns were released from them, at which I dyd not +much joie, for I dyd knowe right well ye character of +myne hoste. The food stuffe for our sustenance was +taken by ye robber band, and putte in gret yron potts, +beneath which fires were lighted, and in but smalle tyme +a goode meale was spred before us alle.</p> + +<p>They were a motley crew, and many of them dyd +looke like unto beggars (for tatters and dyrt) their +clothes being very ragged and olde. Many wore gret +bands of hay round their legges to keepe them warme, +and to fend off ye wet from ye bracken and underwode.</p> + +<p>They were not dressed as I had heard tell, alle in +Lincolne greene, although a few of the head menne +among them dyd dress their lymbs in that cloth, namely, +Lytell John, George à Greene, Raynolde Greenleafe and +a lyttel man y’clept Muche who was sonne of a miller. +Some sayd he was y’clept Muche because he was so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +lyttel, but he was a jolly manne withal and was foole or +jester of ye party, and dyd keep them all in goode +humour lyke unto ye jester in ye Kyng hys court.</p> + +<p>Another pretty manne was y’named Will Scadlocke, +but as he dyd dress hym in scarlet doublet, his comrades +did name him Scarlett, from the colour of hys dress. +Many dyd weare buff leather jerkins and brown hose, +as it was ye tyme of winter when alle is browne and +bare, but quoth Robyn, “In the spring we do don our +green raiment like to the leaves of the forest, so that +ye dere with their glittering eyen cannot so readilie +see us.”</p> + +<p>Dere were not in plentye, but these bold foresters did +make nomble pies of their entrails, which they did salt +in gret tubs during the summer. It was a humble, but +alsoe a toothesome dysh, when seasoned with sweete +herbes.</p> + +<p>Robyn hys menne dyd attend to my two wounded +menne, and dyd place them on softe couches of bracken, +which dyd lie hid in the caves. Me they dyd lodge in a +gret barne of wattle and clay, which dyd afford me good +shelter. Thys in ye summer was the resorte of cowherds, +who dyd here keep their store and eke slumber, +driving in their cattel in stormy weather.</p> + +<p>In this shed or barne dyd stande much store of +victuals for keepe of ye robbers who dyd remain with +their leader through the inclemency of wintertyde. +Floure and porke in barrels, pickled herryngs from +Yaremouthe; beanes, onions, and carrotes; beere and +cyder in fayre casks were in gret plentie, all of which +store was sent in by ye farmers for many myles around +that Robyn might exempt their cattel, menne, and +goodes from hys seizure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>Robyn, goode man, dyd place alle my goodes and +chattels in one of his caves, that they might be safe +from hys comrades, and that no manne might take from +them.</p> + +<p>Next daye it dyd snow, and everything was covered +from sight, and alle assembled in the barne where they +had buylt a woode fire, round which they dyd sitte and +laye as they liste. Some dyd sing songs, and Muche, +the lytell miller, dyd play them many tunes on hys +pype, while another merry fellow dyd beat lustily on a +tabour or drumme, and thus dyd they beguile the time +away right joyouslie, whyle harmony dyd prevail; but +ye said harmonie dyd not laste longe, for one gret +quarrelsome rascal dyd grumble that the ale was too +bittere with horehound, and some sayd it was a righte +goode brew, whereupon they fell to jangling, and the +manne who was of gret stature dyd challenge any +one to crack his sconce with a bout at quarter-staffe. +Another manne, who was of the brede of the greyhond, +did thereupon rise uppe and tackle him, and atte it they +dyd goe for the full space of an hour; by which tyme +he who was of slender form, had lent his foe soe many +and sounding thwacks that the bigge man was fain to +crie, “A goe!” and soe ye battel ended amyd muche +laughter.</p> + +<p>Then goode Robyn dyd saye let us to some more +songes and then early to couche; for to-morrow is +Christmas Daye. Then was a gret cup brought in +and filled to the brim with meade, which being a +noble drinke, was but for Robyn and me, Aylmer, his +guest.</p> + +<p>It was goode liquor, and we dyd sup it deeplie, when +Robyn thinkynge to fleer at my priestly garb, dyd aske<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> +me, “Coulde I wrastle,” and I being a lytell in my cups, +dyd reply that I could wrastle any outlawe that was +ever borne, though it was manie yeares since I had +played a boute.</p> + +<p>Then dyd we wrastle before alle assembled, and they +present dyd laugh heartily to see the figure I dyd cut, +being of great girth. Howbeit I dyd styk to Robyn, +and by a lucky chance dyd roll him over and dyd sit +on his backe, to make mirth for those present; but +Robyn dyd not laugh atte alle, being angered that a +priest should thus him overthrow; soe when I dyd let +him uppe he dyd run at me with gret vengeance in hys +eyen, and he soe smote me on the stommick that I dyd +pante right mightilie.</p> + +<p>Then was I also an angered manne, and having a +strong arme dyd requite Robyn with a gret blow of the +nose, which dyd blede an it were a runlet of goode rede +claret.</p> + +<p>To make peace, “Long John,” as I dyd hear Lytell +John sometime called, dyd com betwixt and dyd part +us, and we ware carried off, each to hys bed in a +separate cave. So ended the Vigil of Noel.</p> + +<p>The morne of Christmas Daye was one which dyd +smile over the erthe wyth gret brightness, and alle were +astir betimes, and many went divers ways into the +woodes to seek for dere. They took but their bows and +speares in their handes, leaving the frieze covers of their +bowes at home, as there was no damp in the frosty air +which might shorten their strings.</p> + +<p>Robyn was very surlie, for he had gotten two blacke +eyen, and his nose was swollen and red like to ye haws +which are sent for birdes food in winter. I was much +afeared of the manne, thinkynge he might doe me some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +mischief for a revenge for ye blowe I had placed upon +hys nose, but we dyd shake hands and were friendly, +and being Christmas Morne, he woulde have me goe +into his cave chambre and pray for him, which I dyd. +Althoughe an outlawe hys menne doe say he is of +pious mind, praying to ye Blessed Virgin at alle seasons, +especially in tyme of gret peril.</p> + +<p>When we had our prayers sayd, Lytell John dyd +roar out with gret pain, saying that his tooth dyd +ache sore, and so it dyd prove, for no manne dare go +near him, so greatly dyd he rage. Then he cryd for +some one to pull it from his jawe for hym, but no +manne dyd offer, tyll home came Wayland, who had of +olde tyme been a smyth, and used to the handling of +implements.</p> + +<p>Lytell John dyd throw himself upon ye plancher in +ye barne, and foure of the strongest men dyd houlde +him dowen.</p> + +<p>Then dyd Wayland bring forthe hys tools, which he +kept in a leathern poke, for many a jobbe dyd he for +the companie. Lytell John’s eyen dyd roule muche +when he dyd see the iron pincers, which Wayland dyd +bring forthe from the poke, but they being made for +horse shoeing were too large for his mouthe, and woulde +not worke therein, although it was a large one.</p> + +<p>Then Wayland founde him a smaller pair, and with +them went to worke agen, upon which Lytell John dyd +roar and struggle mightilie, but they who held him +being strong men he coulde not get free. Wayland dyd +again try, but being used to rough work dyd not set to +worke skilfullie, whereupon Will Scadlocke, who had +now returned with two hares whych he had shotte, dyd +attempt to get out the aching tooth, and with such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> +address dyd he set to worke, that in but a few minutes +he dyd drawe it forth triumphantlie.</p> + +<p>Then they dyd waken Lytell John, who had fallen +into a kind of trance (in whych he did groan), by rubbinge +his face with snow and putting ice on ye nape of +hys necke.</p> + +<p>Soone came home ye merrie menne, some with doe +meat and some with a gret dere they had slain; while +Peter the falconer dyd add toe the store, two ducks and +a fine guse, at which there was great rejoicynge.</p> + +<p>Three menne still were to come home, and their +comrades dyd look for them anxiously, fearing they +had been taken by ye menne of Murdach, Sheriff of +Nottingham, but in tyme they came back bringing three +gret pikes, which they had snared in the river, beside +gret store of perch, which they had netted without asking +leve of anney manne.</p> + +<p>Guards were sette to the right and left of the campe, +and fires y’made, at which were dressed gret diversitie of +dishes, and atte duske the feaste was spread in ye barne. +It was a feaste that woulde have graced the Refectory +of Crowlande Abbey, albeit it was served uppe in a +somewhat rough manner.</p> + +<p>Fish, fleshe, and fowle of all kinds were there, and +cyder and ale in plentie, so that each manne dyd eat +and quaff and sing and laugh, till he coulde no more.</p> + +<p>Then dyd they sitte and laye around the bigge fire +and tell stories of their deeds, which dyd shock mine +ears exceedinglie.</p> + +<p>By the fyrelight they dyd look a very desperate sett +of menne, ye more so when they had drunken of the +goode rede wine, which Robyn had caused to be +broached.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>Robyns nose grew redder as he dranke, and hys eyen +being black he dyd look most curious. Lytell John dyd +have hys jawes in a slyng, as hys cheeke was some deal +painful after his toothe hauling. My yeoman, Robert +Baldrow, whose cheekes hade been shot through, was a +silent manne, for his mouth was bounden in a clothe +through a hole in which he dyd suck up some brothe +through a hollow bunke.</p> + +<p>Howbeit, for these lytell drawbacks, each man dyd +enjoy himself greatly, and dyd sing or daunce according +as he was him capable, and ye merriment was kept up +for a gret many houres till many dyd drink themselves +to sleep, and their comrades dyd cover them with deer +skins and bracken, for fear they might be freesed, so +colde was ye night.</p> + +<p>“Not oft,” sayd Allan-a-dale to me, “do we have +these galas, onlie now and again, else myght the crewel +Sheriff of Nottingham worke us some ill.”</p> + +<p>For several dayes more dyd Robyn keep me hys +prisoner, and on onne day I dyd see some of their famous +archerie.</p> + +<p>On New Yeres Day, Robyn, Lytell John and Scadlocke, +had matched themselves to strike as many arrows +into a marke as any six of their comrades. Thys wager +was accepted by Much, Greneleafe, Allan-a-dale, my man +Thomas à Boston, Reginauld Foxe, and one they called +“Humpy” from his crooked backe.</p> + +<p>A hare skin was stretched on a hoope of wode and +placed as a pryke for them to shote at, at a distance of +eighte score yardes, and each manne was to shote a +score of arrowes at ye marke.</p> + +<p>Robyn, Lytell John, and Scadlocke dyd shote first, +and of their three score arrows, a score and seventeen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> +dyd stryke the marke, though Robyn dyd not schote +well, hys nose being as bigge as two, and was in hys +way when he dyd schote, so that but ten of his arrowes +of the full score dyd strike ye mark.</p> + +<p>Then dyd Much and his menne in turn shote at ye +marke, and of alle their six score arrowes, two score +and three dyd pierce ye skyn, whereat there was much +shoutynge and laughing by those who dyd behold, and +Robyn dyd look him ruefully to see ye prize, which was +a flagon of yelow wine, drunk by lytell Much and hys +men.</p> + +<p>On the 2nd of January, my yeoman being recovered +of his woundes, Robyn dyd give me leve for to goe on my +waye. Whereon I dyd thanke hym and ask for my +gear, at whych he dyd laugh him outrighte in my +face.</p> + +<p>“Nay, Master Monk,” sayd he, “ye traveller must +paye for hys fayre. Have I not kept you and two +menne and alle your mules these ten days? Come quit +thee hence, and thy gear I will keep in payment for thy +victuals and bedde.</p> + +<p>“Come, begone! and a right pleasaunt journey to +you!”</p> + +<p>But I woulde not thus be putten offe, and dyd trye +with my menne to bringe forth the bayles of clothe from +the caves, but the robbers tooke them from us, giving +us many cuffes and kickes for oure pains. Anon I +demanded my mules, but Robyn dyd say:</p> + +<p>“Nay, brother, I have keeped ye mules for ten days +for thee, and now I will keepe them longer for mine +owne use. Dere meate may become scarce, then will +mule meate be plentie.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>Then I dyd try and seize ye rascal by his ears, to +give him som chastisement, for we monkes be manie +of us strong menne, being used to much huntinge and +hawkinge arounde our monasteries.</p> + +<p>Thereupon dyd the giant Lytell John seize me and +my men, and bynde us face downwardes on our mules, +and with many stripes of their bowes and quarter-staves, +they dyd beat us on ye uppermoste parts till we +dyd fairlie crye oute for mercie.</p> + +<p>Then dyd Robyn say—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“I doe gif you a present each of a mule. Commende +me to your good master the Abbot, and begge hym to +give us hys company in the merrie Maye dayes, and he +shall meet with cheer over and above that which you +have received. Fare ye welle.”</p> + +<p>Then the robbers dyd thwacke us again, tyll Robert +Baldrow dyd slyp from hys mule by ye breakynge of hys +strappes, and dyd begge Robyn to allow hym to remain +and become one of hys menne.</p> + +<p>Atte which Robyn dyd laugh and give hys consent +right readilie, striking hym on ye backe with hys palm +to showe hys pleasure thereat.</p> + +<p>In three dayes we dyd return us to Crowlande Abbey, +hungry nigh untoe dethe, and sore; where being kindlie +entreated we dyd recover, and in the quiet of mine owne +cell, I have written thys parchement to cleare my +character of guilt.</p> + +<p>Shoulde ever I com across that rascal robber, Robyn +Hode, I will soe bange hys carcase with my staffe, that +hys skin shall be like a poke filled with odde bones.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“Syned, <span class="smcap">Roger Aylmer</span>,</span><br> +“Jany. 10, 1197.”</p> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“<span class="smcap">Crowlande Abbey</span>,</span><br> +“<i>Marche, 1495</i>.</p> + +<p>“I, John Wybourne, a monk of Crowlande Abbey, dyd +fynde, in a strong chist of ye Ladye Chapelle, a document +written by one Roger Aylmer in 1197, which dyd +showe how he was taken by ye thief Robyn Hode and +dyd spend ten dayes with hym in Wintertyde: the sayd +document being soe badlie written and so badelie spelt +that I have corrected itte to conform with oure modern +spellynge.</p> + +<p>“Althoughe I have altered the wordes I have not +altered the sense of the document, but merely for the +sayk of our Abbey, I have set my hande to yts correction, +that those who com after doe not blushe for shayme at +Roger Alymer hys badde spellynge.”</p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>My old friend the antiquarian would have me +drive him to Coventry on my way thither, as he was +particularly anxious that I should not miss visiting the +shop at which he had made such discoveries of ancient +parchments—parchments which, but for his discovery, +would have gone, sooner or later, to form the heads of +children’s toy drums.</p> + +<p>I cannot refrain from mentioning one little incident +which took place before we parted. My friend, in +showing me the lions of Coventry, took me into the +Public Hall, where we found the old fellow in charge +busy cleaning the windows. We asked permission to +look round, and in speaking to the old custodian who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> +was on the ladder I had some difficulty in making +myself understood. I said, “My friend, I am afraid, +although this is a fine hall, that its acoustics are very +bad.”</p> + +<p>To my surprise he gave a lengthy sniff and replied, +“I don’t know about that, sir, I’ve never had a complaint +before, <i>I can’t smell anything</i>!”</p> + +<p>I did not smile, but passed out quickly, for fear of an +attack of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>In travelling from place to place I come across some +strange incidents, some of which are merely the outcome +of simplicity or kindness of heart.</p> + +<p>Thus at one village I visited, I happened to mention +to the landlord of the inn I was staying at that I +had omitted to pack a tooth-brush with my other +impedimenta.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ll soon set that right,” he replied, and darting +from the room quickly returned with a face beaming +with pleasure.</p> + +<p>“Here’s one, sir,” and he held out a tooth-brush; +“you’ll find it’s a very good one, for <i>I’ve only used it a +few times</i>!”</p> + +<p>Simplicity of manner frequently runs hand in hand +with simplicity of speech; as an illustration of the +latter I may give a few words I once heard delivered +from the pulpit of a Primitive Methodist chapel, by a +good-natured, but somewhat illiterate preacher. He +said—</p> + +<p>“My dear frinds, coming to worshup this mornin’, I +had a curious idea come inter my head. I likened this +chapel to a gret iron biler, and you, my frinds, I likened +to the dumplin’s a-being biled, while I was the long +wooden spune a-stirring on yer up! There, my dear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> +frinds, them were my thoughts when I was a-walking +here this werry mornin’.”</p> + +<p>What could be more graphic than such a charming +and flattering discourse? There could be no comparison +between Cicero and this village Hampden!</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">VII.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “ECCLES +OLD TOWER.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">You</span> must know, gentle reader, that at Eccles, a +village of about a score inhabitants, on the Norfolk +coast, midway between Yarmouth and Cromer, stands +an old church tower. It is quite upon the beach, so +that at spring tides the “send” of the waves comes +round the base of the old flint tower, which must at +some day, not far distant,<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> fall with a mighty crash, a +prey to the undermining and gnawing of the hungry +sea, which in its insatiable encroachment annually +devours hundreds of tons of the soft clay cliff, which at +no point reaches a very formidable height.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[D]</a> Eccles Steeple fell during a tremendous gale on January 23rd, +1895, and but little remains of the huge pile except portions of the +larger fragments which are still unburied by the sand.</p> + +</div> + +<p>North and south of Eccles the cliffs give place to +sand dunes, or, as they are locally called, “Marram +banks,” which are kept in repair by a tax levied on all +the villages between Norwich and the sea, a distance of +nearly twenty miles. Norwich itself also contributes +its quota, as if the sea once broke through the banks it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +would, by ditch, marsh, and river, run quite up to the +ancient city, and submerge the portion which is +contiguous to the river Wensum.</p> + +<p>The steeple at Eccles (or as it is called locally, and by +the thousands of mariners who know it as a landmark, +Eccles Old Tower) stands just above high-water mark, +on the beautiful firm sands, for which the Norfolk coast +is unsurpassed. It is of flintwork, the lower part being +“knapped,” or dressed, and the upper part of the natural +flint. It is a circular tower with an octagonal upper +chamber, but it is roofless, doorless, and windowless, +excepting that the apertures, greatly decayed, still +remain. The walls of the tower are unusually massive, +and the whole structure rises to an altitude of nearly +seventy feet.</p> + +<p>The body of the church was pulled down about 1603, +being then in such a bad state of repair that it was +dangerous to passers-by; in fact, one wall was actually +blown down in a gale, and the other razed to prevent +an accident.</p> + +<p>The foundations of the church still exist, but buried +in the sand. It was a small church (the nave being +only some sixty feet long), and as its remains are +occasionally laid bare, the writer has had opportunities +of measuring the various dimensions. Although these +dimensions might be interesting to an ecclesiologist or +archæologist, they would be wearisome to our readers, +as they have nothing whatever to do with the story.</p> + +<p>Round the huge fragments of the recumbent walls +may be seen, after a visit from a heavy north-west gale, +the foundations of the cottages which once formed the +village. Cottage walls, out-houses, filled-up wells, fruit-tree +roots, etc., are to be seen in all directions, and now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> +and then, at rare intervals, a few coins and curiosities +are picked up. When the ruins <i>are</i> laid bare, the place +forms what might aptly be termed the Norfolk Pompeii.</p> + +<p>It was while I was sketching the old tower, one +autumn day, that I came upon a fisherman employed +in breaking up some wreckage which had been washed +ashore. The timber being full of old bolts, and consisting +mainly of twisted, gnarled oak knees, was of +no value save for firewood, otherwise it would have +been in the hands of the coastguard. He was a very +civil but reticent fellow, and I could not get a yarn out +of him by any means without exerting my hypnotic +power, which I did, obtaining, as a result, the following +wild story.</p> + +<h3>ECCLES OLD TOWER.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> only a plain fisherman, with but little book +learning; but I think I can muster up enough form +o’ speech to tell you one of the skeeriest tales you ever +heard in all your born days.</p> + +<p>It was the first week in January, 188—, that we had a +dreadful gale from the north-west which came at the full +moon; consequently the tides were high, and this here +gale came with such a scouring force, that the soft cliffs +melted away like a lump of butter in the glare o’ the +sun. The sand was swep’ away right down to what you +might term the foundations of the shore, and everything +laid as bare as my forehead. I liken it to my forehead, +which is kinder wrinkly, because there were great ruts +and scars along the beach which had once been holls,<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +deeks,<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and lokes.<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>I and a mate o’ mine walked along the beach next +day, just to see if anything had been thrown ashore +that would come in handy to a couple of poor chaps +like ourselves; but little did we find, for some one had +been pawkin’<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> before us. Still, we got a useful length of +two-inch rope and a couple of dantos,<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> attached to a +score fathom of decent net, so our walk paid for +shoe-leather.</p> + +<p>When we got to the third breakwater—for we live at +Hasbro’—and peeped over, we were wholly stammed<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> to +see the old village of Eccles laid bare and plain like a +map. There was the walls of the housen standin’ +up two foot and more in some places; and some of +the door thresholds were still there, with the wood +as good as ever. We could make out the shapes +of the gardens, and could see where the fruit-trees +had once stood, by the roots and tree-bolls that still +remained.</p> + +<p>In grubbing about with a pointed boat-streak, I +roused out an old leathern bag with a golden guinea +in it, and a piece of rusty iron tangled in the strap, +which might have been a knife or somethin’ of the +sort in days gone by.</p> + +<p>Afterwards we looked over the churchyard wall, and +to our surprise found that many of the graves had been +washed open; in fact, some of the coffins lay there nearly +level with the ground, for you know we don’t bury very +deep in Norfolk, not more than four foot, and only one +corpse in each hole.</p> + +<p>The coffins wor of a different shape to what they +make ’em now-a-days, for they were long, like a seaman’s +chest, but broad at one end and narrow at the other, +and the lid hinged on at one side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>Human bones were washing about in all directions, +and a long line of them lay among the rubbish left at +high watermark. We found one immense coffin near +the north wall of the church, which must have been +seven foot long, if it was an inch. The lid was much +decayed, and in some parts broken away; so we +thought it no sin to prize the rest off, and see what +was inside.</p> + +<p>It was level full of sand, but when we scooped some +of it out with our hands, we came upon the perfect +skelington of a man, black with age, but nothing +missing. It looked as if he might have been the giant +Goliar that we read of in the Bible. He was no use +to us, so we covered him up decent like, and as it +was getting towards dark we took ourselves home +agin.</p> + +<p>Next day I borrowed old Garrod’s dickey,<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and rode +up to Stalham, and called on old Dr. Rix, for he was +what some folks call a aquarian, or somethin’ o’ that +sort, and showed him my guinea in the bag, and the +old bit o’ steel; and he gave me just what I asked him +for ’em, and that was two-and-twenty shillings: he was +pleased, and so was I, for it was just as much as I could +earn in a fortnight. I stopped at his some time goldering<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> +about what I had seen at Eccles, and he up and +told me, when I mentioned about the big skelington, +that if I could bring it to him <i>intack</i>—that’s not broken +or any bits lost—he’d give me a five-pound note.</p> + +<p>Lor, I wor soon home agen, I made the old dickey +fly as if the Old ’un were arter us. Thinks I, this ought +to be a single-handed job, and if I take a big poke<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> and +go alone, I shan’t have any one to dole<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> out halves to. +So I got my spade and a lantern, a poke, and a fairish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> +thumbpiece of bacon and bread, and everything else I +wanted all ready, and then waited till near midnight, +so that I knew the coast would be clear for the job.</p> + +<p>It was a thick, starless night, with great grey snow-clouds +rolling about overhead, and the wind from the +north-east was a regular marrer-freezer, and I can’t say +I much cared for the work in hand; but, as the parson +said when he went on a slide, “it’s foolish to turn back,” +so on I went. The road was frozen right nubbly, and +made me wobble about a bit, but by the time I got +to the beach I was warm and comfortable, and got +along more comfortable-like on the frozen sand, which +was covered with snow in the hollows. The sand and +foam from seaward was a bit unpleasant, but I didn’t +trouble much about that, for my thoughts were a +mile ahead, with the skelington waiting for me at +Eccles.</p> + +<p>I had walked about half-a-mile along the beach, when +down came the snow, wreathing and tearing about all +mander<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> of ways, and every now and then I got into the +centre of a whirl that pulled me up short, and nearly +took my breath away. This only lasted a few minutes, +and then the squall cleared off as suddenly as it came +on, and I got on much faster with my journey.</p> + +<p>I passed the first and then the second breakwater, +and by the light that the sea always gives, I was picking +my way along very nicely, when, what should I see, +but some one a-coming towards me along the beach. I +had not lighted my lantern, as I only wanted that for +my actual work, so it was possible the man approaching +might not have caught sight of me, and as I did not +want to be seen by any one at that time of night, +especially by a coastguard, I dropped quietly on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +sand in a hollow, in hopes that whoever it was might +pass me by.</p> + +<p>Down I went on my stummick, but kept my eyes on +the man approaching, and found to my surprise that he +was dressed in very light clothes; not a coastguard, I +thought, at all events.</p> + +<p>Closer he came, and then I began for some reason or +other to dudder<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> and tremble, but I can’t tell why, +perhaps it was the cold; anyway, there was nothing I +could see in the stranger that should fright me; that is +to say, not just then, when I felt the first symptoms.</p> + +<p>But presently, when he came closer, I had some cause +to shake, for what I saw was a man in a long white +smock, which blew out in the wind behind him as he +stalked along. The nearer he came the worse I felt, for +he seemed to grow taller and taller every step he took.</p> + +<p>Would he pass me?</p> + +<p>Yes!</p> + +<p>No!!</p> + +<p>No, up he came, right straight to me, and I felt like +fainting—or what I should fancy fainting was like, for I +have never experienced it. When he came close, I +could not have stood on my feet for the value of +Norwich Castle; I was right terrified, although the +man had not even spoke a word.</p> + +<p>As I looked up he towered above me like a lugger’s +mast, and his great bare legs were right against me. I +panted, for I could not speak, but presently, in a foreign +sort of voice, the figure said—</p> + +<p>“Hullo, my friendt, anything amiss?”</p> + +<p>I looked at him again and my fear fled, for I immediately +took him to be a shipwrecked mariner, cast +ashore in his sleeping gear from some vessel.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>My strength at once returned, and I stood upon my +feet; but although five feet eight in my socks, and +weighing fourteen stone in my oil-frock, I was only a +baby by the side of my visitor, whose shoulder was more +than level with the top of my head. This did not +frighten me much, but when I looked at his eyes—Oh, +lor! I thought I should have dropped on all fours again.</p> + +<p>His eyes were red and glowing like the port-light of +a ship, and when he spoke, the inside of his mouth +seemed to reflect a fire, which must have been raging +in his internal regions.</p> + +<p>I felt real bad, but could not keep my eyes off +that huge face, with its flaming eyes and mouth, and I +vowed I would never come out, single-handed, skelington-hunting +again—no, not for the whole R’yle Mint.</p> + +<p>“Mine friendt,” said the giant, “you are just de man +I wandt der see; you haf a spade. You come mit me +to Eccles?”</p> + +<p>Would I? Could I say no?</p> + +<p>I went.</p> + +<p>We had but half-a-mile to walk, and that in a biting +east wind, varied with still more piercing squalls of snow +and sleet, and I trembled in every limb, while my heart +rattled on like a donkey-engine getting in a chain cable—all +bumps and thumps.</p> + +<p>I looked at the marrams,<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> and calculated what chance +I should have if I tried leg-bail; but when I looked +at the length of my companion, I gave it up as +onpractical.</p> + +<p>I was cold, although in what we call about here a +“muck swat,” but my new friend was all of a glow +(especially about the mouth). He would have made a +rare fiery speaker for the House of Commons; he would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> +have frightened them that he couldn’t convince by his +speechifying.</p> + +<p>His conversation was dreadful—I don’t mean perfane +or rude-like, but the things that man told me made +my flesh creep on my bones. He wanted to make +out to me that he had been buried three hundred years, +just before the old church was pulled down!</p> + +<p>I can swallow a pretty thick strand of a yarn, but this +here fellow wanted me to swallow a whole cable, for he +went on to tell me how, in 1584, he came over from +Harlingen to Yarmouth, in a fishing-boat of which +he was mate, and that while ashore he one day +fell in with three or four fellows who were kinder interfering +with a good-looking young girl. Being strong +he went for the whole set of them, and got the girl away, +but one of the gang struck him a blow with a heavy +stick and broke his arm.</p> + +<p>The girl’s father came up and thanked the young +Dutchman, and finding that his daughter’s protector +had broken a limb and could not work for a week +or two, took him to a surgeon and had the limb set. He +left him with the onderstanding that Dutchy would +come and spend a week with them, when the doctor had +finished with him. The old fellow was a farmer at +Eccles, and being market-day, had as usual brought his +daughter with him to Yarmouth.</p> + +<p>Well, up to there was what the play-actors would +call Act One, and that was all very nice and proper, +but just you listen, and you’ll see how it will turn +out.</p> + +<p>By and by away goes the young Dutchman to Eccles, +and of course he naturally fell in love with the mawther.<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> +But she wouldn’t have him at no price. No, she thanked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +him, and tried all she could to make him comfortable, +but—she already had a sweetheart.</p> + +<p>This staggered Dutchy, but he had no idea of letting +her go so easily, and as every one in the village was +afraid of the giant, the girl’s father ordered the banns to +be put up, to make sure that his neighbour’s son should +not be frightened out of his rights.</p> + +<p>Dutchy tried all he knew to get the girl to alter her +mind for a whole week; and finding it in wain, he one +morning disappeared.</p> + +<p>That was what you might term Act Two. So far it +had been all comedy, as the play-actors call it, but +the last act was a wiolent and wicious one, as you +shall hear.</p> + +<p>The wedding-day came; the villagers flocked to the +church; the ceremony took place; the bells rang out; +and, according to our custom, the people fired their guns +over the heads of the happy couple as they came out +of the porch, on their way to the home of the bride’s +father.</p> + +<p>All was perfect joy, but in another moment the joy +was turned to horror, for as the young couple came +from the north porch, and turned into the pathway +leading round the foot of the old tower, a huge figure +(it was Dutchy) sprang upon them, and like a flash +of lightning struck them dead to the earth, before a +hand could be raised to prevent it. The reeking +knife he calmly wiped, and thrust into his waist-belt, +and then stood glowering at the crowd, who kept at +a very respectable distance from him. He told them +of the hard-heartedness of the girl, and denounced +her as she lay dead before him as an unfeeling +creature, and bade them know that what he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> +done was his mode of revenge, or as he called it—Justice.</p> + +<p>But where was the bride’s father all this time?</p> + +<p>Well, he had been busy, as you shall hear.</p> + +<p>It is the custom of we Norfolkers to give what we +call “largesses”<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> at marriages, comings of age, and suchlike; +and on this occasion the old man had pervided +hisself with a little leather poke filled with small silver +coins, to throw among the assembled crowd, and indeed +he was occerpied in so doing when the death of his +daughter took place. He knew it was no use going +for Dutchy single-handed, so he just stepped behind the +porch and loaded his gun with a handful of silver +groats, and when it was done sprang out, just when the +giant had finished his speech, and was turning to leave +the place unmolested by the onlookers.</p> + +<p>The old man shouted to him to stay or he would +shoot; but, grasping the knife in his belt, the young +fellow walked away, without taking any notice; whereupon +the old man rushed after him, and aiming at his +head, fired.</p> + +<p>“Der oldt man did shoot mit der gun right tro +mine neck, and I seize him, and gif him fon stap mit +my knife, and den I vas dedt mineself,” were the words +of my uncanny companion.</p> + +<p>Whether he killed the old man I cannot say, but +he himself was killed, and all this three hundred years +ago!</p> + +<p>And this was the gentleman I was taking a walk +with, much against my will, at night’s-noon, as we say.</p> + +<p>But then he went on with a lot more strange talk, +about how he had a kind of holiday, or as we say +frolic-time, ’lowanced out to him once every hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> +years, on the annewersery of the day when all this piece +of work took place; only he was not let loose, so to +speak, till midnight, and then for only three hours.</p> + +<p>Well, I’d heard some tough uns before, and didn’t +mind what I had heard; but them eyes!—when I +looked up at his face they bowled me over altogether. +He was no mortal, that I could take my davy on.</p> + +<p>For a little Dutchy walked in silence, and I found <i>my</i> +tongue and asked him if he didn’t fare cold, seeing he +only had a kind of shirt on!</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes upon me, and then I saw I had +made a mistake in asking such a question; fancy what +a silly thing to ask a chap with a furnace in his innards. +But he was not put out at my question, and wolunteered +a explanation, as the saying is.</p> + +<p>He opened his mouth and asked me to look into it. +Well, if I live to be as old as our neighbour Ives, and she +is a hundred and three, I shall never forget the sight. He +blazed internally like a dustpan of live coal, and the sight +made my knees quiver, as if the heat of his breath had +melted my marrer, or whatever it is holds a fellow +right up. I’ve heard tell of men’s hearts waxing faint, and +I do believe that that night my bones were no better than +wax, for hold my frame up straight I could not, however +I tried, and I am not reckoned a coward when any job +is on hand that wants a steady nerve and strong hand; +and I’ve been out on the sea some rum wather too, +but the sight down this fellow’s throat done me entirely.</p> + +<p>When he had shown me his furnace below, he went +on to tell me that what I had seen was the sin burning +within him, and it could only be quenched by +the forgiveness of the girl he killed three hundred +years ago.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>Well, of course I could not say that that was all +fudge, though I could not believe him, but the funny +part of it was, that when we got to Eccles Old Tower +there sat a young woman on the ruins of the porch +in a kind of night-shirt, as if she was waiting for us. +That of course showed me that there was some truth +in what Dutchy had been telling me, and when I +nodded to the young woman, she gave me a very +pretty smile, and said she was glad to see me, and +that now I had come matters might be set right, and +they could obtain a little rest.</p> + +<p>Then she chatted on and told me that she had for +a long time forgiven Dutchy, knowing that he had +that within him that must have burnt away all sin +long ago, but that without a mortal witness she could +not forgive him, as the sin had taken place on earth. +She owned that it was her cruel conduct that had +brought on the Dutchman’s revenge, and now before +me as witness she would forgive him, and seal the +forgiveness with a kiss.</p> + +<p>Lors me! when they kissed I thought the poor man +would have been blowed to pieces, for he exploded +intarnilly with a tremenjous report, and the flames +shot out of his mouth, ears, and eyes like rockets, and +went wizzing away in streaks right over the marrams, +where they were soon swallowed up in the dark and +thick air.</p> + +<p>Now my legs did give way, and down I went with +my back agen the church wall, and although I was +spellbound, I could see and hear all that went on +before me.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_156a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_156a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“By the sheen of the foam I beheld two skelingtons sitting in their +coffins.”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Dutchy, whose eyes and mouth no longer shone, +snatched up my lantern, stooped over me, and took<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> +my brass box of matches and struck a light, then +seizing the spade, he set to work, and very soon had +the huge coffin out of the sand. But the strange thing +about it was, that it was the very one I had come to +rob, only now there were no bones in it, and it dawned +upon my stupid brain that Dutchy and the skelington +was one! Where he got his flesh and shirt from +goodness only knows.</p> + +<p>The young woman, who was very pretty and had +long hair down her back, which blew out like a ship’s +pennant in the gale, helped the giant by holding the +lantern, while he did the work.</p> + +<p>The big coffin being placed above ground, away they +went round to the other side of the church, where +Dutchy set to work digging again, and after a little +while cleared the second coffin, which I reckon belonged +to the girl.</p> + +<p>While this was going on I had raised myself on to +my marrer-bones, and with my fingers hooked over +the old church wall was taking a view of all their +doings, and no doubt I was all eyes and mouth if +any one could have seen me.</p> + +<p>Presently the giant up-ended the big coffin and got +it on his shoulder, and as he and the girl came round +by the tower, she stopped and actually asked for +another kiss. Such a request took my breath away, +and to avoid the awful dullor<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> which I expected would +follow, put my fingers into my ears, but, would you +believe me, it was as human a kiss as ever you saw, +and not even a whiff of smoke appeared, let alone a +tongue of flame, when their lips met.</p> + +<p>He also carried the little coffin down to the water’s +edge, and then up he came, and dragged the big one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +down by the side of it, and there they lay, for all the +world like two boats.</p> + +<p>Then back they came right to where I was, +a-cowering by the flint wall, and says Dutchy—</p> + +<p>“Tank you werry much for der lantern and der +spade,” and he held out his great hand as he added, +“Farewell.”</p> + +<p>I was very loath, but I took it, and as true as I +am alive, it felt damp and cold like the hand of a +dead man, and sent a thrill along my backbone I shall +never forget.</p> + +<p>Then the young woman came forward and thanked +me, and put forth <i>her</i> hand for me to shake, and I +shook something very like a fish, but did not shudder +quite so much, as I was a bit more used to it after +the first shock, so to speak.</p> + +<p>After that they walked down to their coffins and +each got into the right one, and as I did not follow +too close, Dutchy turned round and beckoned me to +him, and with fear and trembling I obeyed, and +tottered down to the water’s edge.</p> + +<p>“Now, mynheer,” said he, “when you see der change +kom, push der boads off.”</p> + +<p>I had no idea what he meant, but I shuddered out +a kind of “Yes,” and there they sat, till presently he +cried out—</p> + +<p>“Now den, push avay!”</p> + +<p>As he spoke, I floated them off, and they appeared +to melt partly away, and to change colour from the +pinky tinge of life to the grey of death.</p> + +<p>They floated: and by the sheen of the foam I +beheld two skelingtons sitting in their coffins, scudding +against wind and tide right out to sea, slashing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +through the great breakers as if they had no more +weight or power than mists.</p> + +<p>Dutchy’s skelington arm was round where his companion’s +waist ought to have been, when I last saw +them, as they burst through a big old roller that +would have sunk a billyboy schooner.</p> + +<p>Where they were bound for goodness only knows; +neither do I care. All I know is, that I got home +some time or other, for when I woke up the week +after, they told me I was better, and that I had had +brain fever.</p> + +<p>When I got well, I went to Eccles to see if what +I had got into my brainpan was all moonshine or no, +but if you’ll believe my word, the two coffins I had +seen dug up by Dutchy were gone sure enough, which +I take it proves my story to be ker-rect.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>My nautical friend, on leaving my van, had not the +remotest notion that he had told me a story, and as +to my being able to send him to sleep, why, he simply +laughed at such a thing as an impossibility.</p> + +<p>In his normal condition I tried in vain to draw him +out to spin a yarn, but although he owned that he +knew some “real rum ’uns,” I could not prevail on him +to tell me one. He merely sat and smoked, and did +little more than carry on a disjointed monosyllabic +conversation.</p> + +<p>“Why will you not spin me a yarn, my friend?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>“Why, sir, you see,” said he, “I ain’t no scholard, +and although I may <i>think</i> a great deal, I’m no sort o’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> +hand at <i>talking</i>. I never could frame<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> enough to tell +anything in a kinder pretty way like some folks. No, +sir, you don’t ketch me opening my mouth to be papered +[put in print] for gentlefolks to laugh and make game +of me.”</p> + +<p>That being so, I had no alternative but to make him +a victim, with the result chronicled above.</p> + + +<h3>EXPLANATION OF NORFOLK WORDS.</h3> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[1]</a> holl, <i>a ditch</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[2]</a> deek, <i>a hedge-bank</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[3]</a> loke, <i>a lane</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[4]</a> pawkin, <i>hunting for wreckage</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[5]</a> danto, <i>a fishing-buoy</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[6]</a> stammed, <i>astonished</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[7]</a> dickey, <i>a donkey</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[8]</a> goldering, <i>chatting</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[9]</a> poke, <i>a bag or sack</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[10]</a> dole, <i>a share</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[11]</a> mander, <i>manner</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[12]</a> dudder, <i>to shiver</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[13]</a> marrams, <i>grass-covered sandhills</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[14]</a> mawther, <i>a maid, a young girl</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[15]</a> largesse, <i>a gift</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[16]</a> dullor, <i>a distracting noise</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[17]</a> frame, <i>to use big words</i>.</p> + +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">VIII.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “THE MONK’S +PENANCE.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> a friend who is a well-known ecclesiastic +glass-painter, and who, as a relaxation, delights in +gardening; consequently he lives just out of London, +so as to be enabled to carry out his hobby for horticultural +pursuits. To work in his London studio during +four days of the week, and to reserve Saturday, Sunday, +and Monday for his country life is his plan, by adopting +which he is neither a countryman nor a town-dweller, +but something of both: he is pleased to call himself an +“Urberusticite.”</p> + +<p>Recently, when near the metropolis, I trundled my +van down the North Road to his snug little villa, and +spent a few days with him.</p> + +<p>I promised if he would help me in <i>my</i> hobby, by +one evening giving himself up to me as a victim, that +I would help him during the day with his garden. And +I <i>did</i> help him, till every bone in my body ached with +the unusual exertion of digging, and wheeling gravel in +a great barrow. He gave me the hardest work he could +possibly find, observing, as he saw the perspiration<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> +streaming down my face, that “you will feel quite +another man to-morrow.” And so I did, for I was so +stiff next morning that I could scarcely raise my hands +to my head, to comb my tawny locks. After the toil +of the day I was quite prepared for dinner that evening, +but when the meal had been eaten with keen appetite—for +gardening certainly does create havoc among the +dishes—I prepared for my revenge.</p> + +<p>My friend was quite prepared to give me an opportunity +of hypnotizing him, <i>if I could</i>; but he laughed +at the absurdity of the idea, believing it, as he said, +all moonshine, and asserting that he could, by exerting +his will against mine, prevent my passes having any +power over him.</p> + +<p>I commenced operations upon him, and to my very +great surprise signally failed. All I could do was to produce +a drowsy feeling in him, and at length I gave it up for +the evening, conjecturing that the manual labour which +I had undergone during the day had tired and weakened +my hypnotic powers. My friend was delighted at the +failure, and laughed very heartily at my discomfiture; +declaring that the hypnotic power I exercised was only +efficacious in the case of young people and old women, +who had no power of brain to withstand my passes, +but simply gave themselves up to my wishes or will, like +so many automata.</p> + +<p>He was good enough, however, to give me another +trial next evening, and that I might not be tired he sent +me to the river, at a short distance from the house, to +fish and—get back my “vanished will.” I was very +much piqued, but dare not show it, for my friend is a +very demon at sarcasm; so with rod and line I +wandered off, and spent a quiet day, reserving all my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> +brain energies for the coming mental fray in the +evening.</p> + +<p>In the evening, dinner being over, my friend signified +his readiness to commence, by making idiotic passes at +the portraits hanging round the room, and appeared to +imagine that to hypnotize him was a thing not to be +accomplished, at least not by <i>my</i> humble powers. So +certain was he that I should fail, that he was willing to +do anything but give up his will to me. He made fun +of my idea of obtaining a story from him, even if I <i>could</i> +put him to “bye-bye,” as he expressed it; and if I did +make him ass enough to divulge anything like a story, +I should tell it when or where I liked, or even publish +it for the delectation of the public; but, as he assured +me he did not know a story, he could not see how I +was going to make him tell one.</p> + +<p>All being ready, we commenced our little <i>séance</i>, and +in two minutes my victim was in a trance state. In +spite of his bumptiousness and disbelief in my powers, +and in hypnotism generally, he related the following +very curious experience in his own career.</p> + +<h3>THE MONK’S PENANCE.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> profession of glass-painting is not exactly a +precarious one, but, unlike many others, it has neither +season nor certainty with it. People do not usually +die to order, consequently, as Death hurls his dart at +irregular intervals, a glass-painter is at one time quite +idle, while at other periods, when he least expects it, the +commissions roll in “thick and threefold.” He cannot +spread his work out over the year as a mother applies<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> +jam to the bread of her eager-mouthed offspring; but +when certain work has to be done, the painter has to +stick to his task early and late, or the glass would stand +in danger of becoming “ancient” before it could be +inserted in the church for which it is intended.</p> + +<p>Very well; just at the time the curious incident +happened which I will endeavour to relate, I was busy, +very busy, and working in my studio from nine in the +morning till nearly midnight. I was restoring a large +window—the east window of H—— Church, Yorkshire—and +had been requested to have it finished and +fixed again for the re-opening ceremony on Christmas +Day.</p> + +<p>It was a late fourteenth-century window, of rare +beauty both in colour and workmanship, and contained +many quaintly-drawn figures of saints and martyrs of all +ages. Among them was one figure on which a greater +amount of care had evidently been bestowed than upon +any of the others, especially in regard to the painting +of the face, which was probably a portrait.</p> + +<p>The figure to which I wish to draw attention was that +of a Dominican friar, habited in the garb of his order, +black and white in colour, which made a fine contrast +to the ruby background on which the monk was placed +in the window.</p> + +<p>This “light,” as the panel is technically called, was in +a very bad state of repair, and as one of my assistants +passed through my studio on his way home, for he had +finished his day’s work, he remarked that a very little +shaking would cause the old monk to fall from the leadwork +and demolish himself. To which I replied by asking +him to make it his first care in the morning to relead +the figure, and thus render it secure for a few more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> +generations, as such fine figures were not very frequently +seen.</p> + +<p>At eight o’clock I was left alone in the studio, as I +had determined to work on till midnight, and get +my painting well forward for “firing” (burning in the +vitreous colours). Somehow I can always do a vast deal +more work when alone than when others are present, +however quiet they may be in their movements. There +is in solitude nothing to distract the attention, and one +rapidly becomes absorbed in one’s work, which is more +expeditiously and accurately executed.</p> + +<p>Ten o’clock came, and I prepared myself a cup of +<i>café au lait</i>, and smoked a cigarette. I cannot smoke +and work at the same time, as many artists have the +knack of doing—for either my attention is more on my +cigarette than on my work (which is a loss of time), or I +become so engrossed with my painting that the paper +cylinder is forgotten, and goes out, necessitating frequent +and irritating relightings.</p> + +<p>As I puffed my little white tube of Dubec, I could +not help taking another look at the monk in all his +glossy rigidity, and the thought came into my head that +being an ecclesiastic of the fifteenth century, it was just +possible that the monk so carefully delineated was a +portrait of the painter of the whole window!</p> + +<p>Why not?</p> + +<p>Who could tell?</p> + +<p>There he hung, upon a glass screen, behind which +was a gas-jet, giving sufficient light for me to be able +to discern every detail of the drawing and painting of +the figure. This was more apparent because the +studio in which I stood was in darkness, except for the +brilliant light <i>behind</i> the easel upon which I was working.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>It may be well to point out that the easel used for +painting glass upon is very different to the one in use +by artists when painting on canvas, as it consists of +two rectangular wooden frames the front one of which +sustains the easel glass, upon which the various fragments +of glass forming the subject in hand are fastened, +by means of a kind of cement made of wax and resin. +The frame immediately behind is covered with white +tissue paper, a material that not only diffuses the light +equally all over the subject which is being painted, but +renders the otherwise bright light soft to the artist’s +eyes, and prevents the glare of the various pieces of +coloured glass from making them ache, as they would +do if a naked light were used. Thus, in painting a +subject on canvas, the light is thrown upon the front of +the easel, but in painting a figure for a church window +the light is behind it, and passes through it to show up +the transparent colours.</p> + +<p>I sipped my coffee and admired the monk, especially +his eyes, which appeared dark and lustrous and full of +life, although his body was of the lay-figure order, and +his hands as absurdly grotesque in pose as those of a +Chinese mandarin on a tea-tray.</p> + +<p>Then I turned my attention to the figure of St. Agnes +upon my easel and painted away again in a most diligent +and vigorous manner.</p> + +<p>Eleven o’clock came, and I began to grow sleepy +and to give an involuntary yawn now and again, +but I had resolved to work till midnight, and work +I would.</p> + +<p>Half-past, and I was becoming still more drowsy, and +for some reason a certain nervousness seemed to come +over me—mental strain and long hours I suppose; but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> +presently I heard a sound as of glass lightly jarring +against some metallic or hard substance.</p> + +<p>I glanced round and tapped my mahl-stick upon the +floor, but no mouse scurried away responsive to my +sh—h—h! so I resumed work.</p> + +<p>A little time elapsed, and again I heard the same +rattle of glass; very quiet, but quite distinct; it was a +sharp, bright, but subdued noise, familiar to my ear +as the noise made by glass when touching another hard +substance.</p> + +<p>Again I glanced round: all was silent. Only it +seemed to me that the glass monk solemnly returned +my enquiring look with a gaze such as that with which +the Ancient Mariner fixed the wedding guest.</p> + +<p>Work again—then another rattle, louder than before. +This time I jumped up from my seat, opened the door, +thinking some one must be outside, but nothing was to +be seen. I looked again at my companion, Friar Aylmer, +and this time, to my astonishment, his eyes seemed to +move—to blink, in fact (for probably, as a religious man, +he never learned the art of winking). I approached, +but the eyes were again fixed, fixed full upon me, +whichever way I turned. I simply laughed at myself: +of course I conjectured that the flickering gaslights in +the adjoining room were playing an optical prank upon +me.</p> + +<p>I sat down and seized my brushes, determined to +finish the figure of St. Agnes before I left; half-an-hour +or so more and I should be ready to trot homeward +to bed.</p> + +<p>As I sat before the easel quietly whistling to keep +up my courage and my spirits, the jingling of glass +was once more heard, and this time such a strange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +dread seized me that I was positively afraid to turn +my head. Then I heard a soft footfall, and my mahl-stick +and brushes dropped from my palsied hands, as +my hair erected itself on my head, the result of horrific +terror.</p> + +<p>Some one approached me—at my left side—and +paused. I was simply petrified with fright; turned to +stone, body and limbs; only my brain retained control +of its natural functions.</p> + +<p>I knew, although I could not look, that the painted +monk stood at my side!</p> + +<p>A long pause, in which I could hear my heart beating +audibly, and then a fine, mellow voice at my elbow +said—</p> + +<p>“Good friend, why this fear? I am a man of peace, +and would cause no harm to the least of God’s creatures, +much less to thee. Calm thy perturbed spirit, and, +prithee, let us converse for the short time allotted me +once in each century—one short hour!”</p> + +<p>I calmed myself a little, and looked at my weird +visitor. His appearance was very natural, a man of +flesh and blood apparently; and he smiled benignly +upon me as he toyed with the knotted ends which +dangled from the thick cord bound about his waist.</p> + +<p>He sat upon a high stool, and my eyes were riveted +upon him as if I were being hypnotized by the strange +visitor—indeed, so I was, for his presence held me +spellbound.</p> + +<p>With soothing words he gradually calmed me, and +after a long interval, during which I several times +unsuccessfully essayed to speak, I at last found utterance, +and inquired who my midnight visitor might be.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” replied the dreaded shade, “listen,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +and I will tell you about myself; then, perhaps, you +may feel inclined to give me your assistance.”</p> + +<p>“Assistance? I? How can I assist a spirit, a +phantasy? I beg you leave me and return to your +place in the window.”</p> + +<p>“Listen,” said he, in a beautiful voice, which at once +dispelled all alarm from my mind; “listen, and you +will soon discover how you can be of service to me. I +pray you do not interrupt, for remember I have but one +short hour in which to assume my earthly form, and if +in that time I cannot obtain mortal aid to release me +from my leaden bonds, I am doomed to resume my +form of a painted monk in yon window for yet another +century. But <i>tempus fugit</i>, as the motto on the pedestal +of our old sundial used to inform us, and I will not lose +another instant.</p> + +<p>“I am Friar Aylmer—the label under my feet in the +window is correct, for I painted it myself, as indeed I +did the whole window, and although I wrought at it for +six long years, it was destined at length to become my +prison, as you shall hear.</p> + +<p>“I am not old, as you may judge from my appearance; +although nearly five centuries have rolled by since +my birth, I am scarcely forty.”</p> + +<p>I looked at his kindly features and bowed my assent +to his assertion, knowing that stained-glass figures do +not grow old when once they are permanently painted +and burnt into the glass. He proceeded—</p> + +<p>“My father, you must know, was Prior Aylmer, of St. +Benet’s Abbey, Norfolk; and by some means appeared +to fall into the evil ways of the sadly dissolute times in +which he lived; at least he made one great slip, one that +he did not try to palliate in any way, but took so to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> +heart, that till the end of his days he lived an exemplary +life, and gained the love of all those who were under his +sway in the great abbey.</p> + +<p>“The monks used to notice that my father spent +more time in the village than was compatible with his +monastic life, but then, as ecclesiastics went in those +days, he was a jolly fellow, and no one thought harm of +his frequent absence from the duties of the monastery, +till one day an event happened which set the whole +brotherhood agog, and caused much scandal.</p> + +<p>“It was a simple, but very significant event; one so +unusual, that every one was taken by surprise, so that +the whole place was in a ferment of excitement.</p> + +<p>“It happened that the porter was very late in taking +down the great bars which fastened the huge, heavy, +oaken outer gate; so late indeed that several of the +brethren were about at the time, and when the door +swung open on its massive hinges, they saw just what +the porter saw—a long osier-work basket, with a thong +of parchment upon it bearing the words ‘For Father +Aylmer.’</p> + +<p>“The basket was quickly carried to the refectory and +placed in the great arm-chair of the Prior, to await +the arrival of that worthy to take his seat at the head +of the table for the morning meal.</p> + +<p>“It had rested there but a short time, when a noise +was heard within which caused a thrill to startle the +slowly-assembling monks—it was the cry of a baby!</p> + +<p>“What was to be done?</p> + +<p>“Who would open the lid?</p> + +<p>“Should the Prior be called?</p> + +<p>“Whatever was best to do? All these questions were +cut short by the entrance of the Prior himself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>“Every man was immediately silent; mouths were +closed, but ears and eyes were very wide open, and the +question was in every one’s mind—‘What will he do +with it?’</p> + +<p>“He quietly opened the lid, and before all the +assembly raised a baby form to view.</p> + +<p>“That baby was myself!</p> + +<p>“Before them all he blessed me, and in humble tones +acknowledged his sin, at the same time taking an oath +upon the crucifix that, till the grave closed over him, +his tongue should not speak to woman more, neither +should his form be seen outside the Abbey walls.</p> + +<p>“He lived thirty-five years after this startling event, +but his oath he kept inviolate, and, as I have already +said, he led an exemplary life, and died beloved and +respected by all men, both lay and ecclesiastic.</p> + +<p>“I was placed in the hands of a village dame to +nurse, and she, kind creature, had care of me till I +was six years of age, when I was received into the +monastery, and under my father’s guidance instructed +in the various ecclesiastic accomplishments then in +vogue.</p> + +<p>“Wood-carving, missal-painting, and finally glass-painting +were taught me, and in them I soon became +proficient. These things filled my time when not +studying the usual routine of religious education. As +a child I was a plaything for the monks, who delighted +to hear me sing, some of my efforts, I am sorry to say, +being far from a religious nature, and more fitted for an +amorous cavalier than a budding monk.</p> + +<p>“As I grew to man’s estate, my fondness for glass-painting +asserted itself; a fondness which enabled me, +more than any other of my accomplishments, to beautify<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> +the old Abbey, although some of my wood-carving, for +stall ends and misereres, was considered exceptionally +fine.</p> + +<p>“As the years rolled on I filled the small aisle windows +with stained glass, and this so pleased the good Abbot, +that he requested me to paint the large east window +of the Abbey church. I undertook the task, but it took +me several years to accomplish.</p> + +<p>“Just before the window was completed, I had the +sorrow of parting with my dear father for ever. After +a few days’ illness he succumbed to an attack of fever, +and was laid to rest in the burying-ground by the Abbey +wall. My grief was so poignant that for a long time I +had not the heart to finish the great east window, +which now wanted but the figure of another saint to +complete it.</p> + +<p>“One night, as I lay in my little cell, the thought came +into my head suddenly, ‘Why not paint a figure of my +dear dead father to complete the window?’</p> + +<p>“I turned the idea over in my mind and could see no +reason why it should not be so, as for many years my +father had been Prior of the Abbey, second only to the +great Abbot himself, and since my birth had lead a +truly pious life, an example to all those who received +religious instruction from his erudite brain.</p> + +<p>“Full of love for my parent’s memory, I painted the +figure of a monk robed in the dress of our order, and +from drawings I had made during my father’s lifetime, +I reproduced the features of his dear face as far as +possible.</p> + +<p>“In due time the panel was fixed in its place and the +great east window was at last finished. A grand +supper was given in honour of the event, at which I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> +was complimented upon my untiring energy and skill +in having enriched the Abbey church with such a +splendid work of art. The Abbot avowed it was second +to none in the realm, but I was always a modest man, +and took his kind words as complimentary, but nothing +more; I knew he flattered me, and blushed accordingly.</p> + +<p>“That night, when I retired to rest in my cell, I felt +peculiarly heavy and depressed; I ascribed the feeling, +however, to reaction after the excitement of the +evening.</p> + +<p>“I stepped into bed, but for a long time could not +sleep. I simply tossed and turned about till long past +midnight, when, lying with my face to the wall, I +became aware of a light in the room. I looked around +but could see nothing, although the small cell appeared +unusually light, becoming indeed brighter and brighter, +until near the door the brilliance was so dazzling, that +my eyes could not bear to look upon it.</p> + +<p>“I sat up on my humble wooden bedstead, and endeavoured +to pierce the effulgence, but instead I was +forced to close my eyes, for the glare was positively +blinding. Then out of the radiance of glory came a +voice, which from its thrilling accents I knew belonged +not to this earth, and slowly, distinctly, and musically, +uttered these words of dreadful import—</p> + +<p>“‘O gifted monk, thy skill is great, though thy veneration +for holy things but small; amongst Heaven’s +saints thou hast presumed to place one who, of this earth, +was earthy, although doubtless dear to thee. He whose +portrait is shown in the east window—who is not of the +elect—shall stand in his vitreous form as a penance till +<i>accident</i> doth destroy his effigy. He shall know and +hear all that passes around, but except for <i>one hour in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> +each century</i>, shall have neither movement nor speech. +<i>Accident</i>, not design, can alone cancel this dread +sentence. <i>Vale.</i>’</p> + +<p>“I sank back upon my bed trembling with fear, and +pinching myself to see if I was awake or dreaming; but +I knew that I was awake, for the light still illumined the +room, although it grew fainter each moment; till, in the +space of perhaps a full minute, it died quite out; the last +portion to melt away being a circular aureole or nimbus, +which remained for some time after the larger blaze of +light had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“No sleep drew down my eyelids that long night, +and in the morning I was so ill that I could not rise +for matins, and the good Abbot came to my cell to +ascertain the cause of my absence.</p> + +<p>“‘Too much wine, my son, eh?’ he good-humouredly +suggested.</p> + +<p>“‘Nay, father, jest not, I pray, for I have a confession +to make, if you will bid my worthy brethren depart.’</p> + +<p>“We were quickly left alone, and the door being +closed, I related to the Superior my vision of the night, +at which his smiling face gradually became sedate, and +even stern, as he listened to my recital of the strange +apparition.</p> + +<p>“‘My son, the long hours spent in study, and the +work of painting our great east window, have been too +much for thy teeming brain; thou art feverish, and +require rest. Stay thou in bed for a day or two, and +I will forego thee thy duties. Rest patiently, my son, +and be not over thoughtful of the vision, which was +probably but the hallucination of an overwrought +brain.’</p> + +<p>“‘Nay, father, I need not rest, for the vision I last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> +night saw was no phantasy of a distraught or wearied +brain, but a reality; and it maddens me to think I may +have doomed my father to a purgatory of centuries. +Holy father, will you grant me one request, a simple one +truly?’</p> + +<p>“‘Ay, my son, that will I, for thou wilt not, I know, +ask aught that I may not in duty readily grant. What +is it thou desirest?’</p> + +<p>“‘Holy father, it is but a small thing. It is that I may +be allowed to take out my father’s portrait from the +window and paint my own in its place!’</p> + +<p>“‘Hum! Well, well, if you think it will ease your +mind you have my dispensation to do it: one monk’s +head is as good as another. I will quietly give out +before the brethren that as you are the painter of the +window, I should rather desire <i>your</i> portrait there, instead +of that of your good father. At this thou must +demur, though not so pertinaciously but that I may +override thy entreaties. This and more I would gladly +do for thee.’</p> + +<p>“In due course my portrait replaced that of my father, +and shortly after I was taken ill with brain fever, and +died on my thirty-ninth birthday.</p> + +<p>“I was placed in a grave by the side of my father, but +alas! I did not rest there; for when next day dawned, +behold my soul and understanding faculties had entered +the painted monk, and there, in the east window, for +five centuries I have been cognizant of all things going +on around me, but with no power of speech or movement, +except for one all too brief hour every hundred +years.</p> + +<p>“In 1494 I came down from my window, and scared +the brethren in the dear old Abbey, who, crossing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> +themselves, gabbled their Paters and Aves, and conjured +me to go back to my place in the window. I did so, +and then they put out all the candles, rushed from +the church, and locked the door behind them. Left +alone, I had not long to reflect on the awfulness of my +position; but in a short time, dreadful as it may appear, +I determined to jump down from my lofty niche in the +window, and endeavour to kill myself, for I had only a +<i>few more minutes to live</i>!</p> + +<p>“I ascended to my place beneath the canopy of the +window, and, closing my eyes, bent forward, and hurled +myself heavily to the stone floor, to try if I could break +my neck, rather than live in death for another hundred +years.</p> + +<p>“Down I fell—swiftly: but my impact with the floor +was as if a feather had been wafted down from the wing +of some passing bird.</p> + +<p>“I was foiled in my wicked attempt to avert my doom, +and as I sat on the encaustic pavement a fiend stood by +me, who, with mocking laugh and leering eye, whispered +in a discordant voice in my ear—</p> + +<p>“‘From the grid to the fire is but poor change; from +thy doom up there, to my cavern below, would not have +availed thee much. I am disappointed in not taking +down a monk with me, for monks seldom lay violent +hands on themselves. But he! he! ha!—list to the +rusty iron tongue of yon bell; get thee to thy vigil; +into thy niche; I may have thee yet. I wish thee joy +of thy hundred years. Be patient, good monk!’</p> + +<p>“I was in my niche again ere the rolling boom of the +great bell had ceased to reverberate in the black vastness +of night.</p> + +<p>“1594 at length came, and this time I found myself in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> +the east window of St. F——’s Church, whither I had +been transported soon after the Reformation. Midnight +crashed out from the great bell, and I was once more +free for one short, solitary hour—a mere speck in the +revolution of a whole century of time.</p> + +<p>“This time I stepped from my niche rearward into the +churchyard, and made my way into the town, walking +boldly into the High Street, without an idea of what I +was about to do, except that I wished to find the vicar +of the church in which I was incarcerated.</p> + +<p>“I accosted two swaggering soldiers, and desired them +to kindly tell me where he lived, but they, being somewhat +in liquor, looked at me and then at each other, and +laughed as if I had been some raree show.</p> + +<p>“‘Come, comrade,’ said one, ‘we will show thee the +vicar,’ and linking their arms in mine they dragged me +through the street to the Town Hall, where, thrusting +me before them, they forced me into the centre of a +group of boisterous soldiers, who opened out to receive +me, evidently thinking I was some Jack Pudding, masquerading +in monk’s attire. They bandied jests with +me, and when I resented their rudeness, they only +laughed the louder, taking my remonstrance as part of +my performance, which they thought most excellent. +Knowing my time was short, I became so angry that +they at length found a mistake had been made, and +I forced my way out of the throng, intending to find the +vicar’s house by myself, but, ere I reached the entrance +door, I was hauled back into the presence of the captain +of the guard, who had just entered the hall, and who +leisurely proceeded to question me in a very rude and +imperious manner.</p> + +<p>“I objected; and in turn became insolent to him,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> +whereupon he ordered me to be locked up till morning, +that I might be haled before the magistrate to give +an account of myself. At this I saw my last chance +of finding the vicar gone, so, seizing a large sword +that lay on the table, I let drive at the nearest man +to me, but he was too quick for me, and guarded my +blow, in turn aiming a blow at me which, had I not +parried, would have cut me in twain. I guarded the +stroke involuntarily, else might my life and penance +have been severed at a blow.</p> + +<p>“Fool that I must have been: next instant I was +flying through space, and before I had time to draw +a single breath I was again a stained-glass figure.</p> + +<p>“1693 gave me one more brief respite from my penance, +but it was again abortive, not bringing any kindly +<i>accident</i> for my release. I was again revivified at midnight, +a most inappropriate time, as you will allow, for +one to carry out any important business, such as the +release of a man from centuries of purgatory. During +my weary imprisonment I heard all the news of the +period from the gossip of those who chose to chatter +just beneath me; I knew what king reigned, what battles +were fought; all the grand events that took place +in England, and even all the local scandal; but nothing +I heard or saw gave me the slightest interest. I was +dumb but could hear; hear and understand all that was +said; but not a ray of hope ever came to me in the +way of a plot to blow up the church, although I heard +many plots to demolish the State.</p> + +<p>“Now and again an aimless stone struck one or other +of the saints around me and fractured him or her, but +never a one gave me a kindly blow, although my broad +face and tonsured head gave a splendid target at which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> +a school urchin might have been pleased to try his +skill; but none ever did.</p> + +<p>“On the night of my third revival a terrible storm +was raging; the lightning was flashing most vividly +around the old church, and I longed for a bolt to +strike me; but I appeared to bear a charmed existence, +even in the flesh, for although I sat with my back to the +lightning-conductor which came down from the tower, +not a spark of the current touched me, although it toppled +over the upper portion of the spire, and hurled it in +shivered atoms at my feet; not a stone from the falling +mass touched me, though I had designedly placed +myself in the way of danger. I sat on a gravestone +and pondered what I should do, but could think of +nothing in the way of accident that could befriend me.</p> + +<p>“As I sat thus, two soldiers passed by along the road, +and one, on perceiving me, stopped suddenly and +clutched his comrade’s arm in terror, pointing his finger +tremblingly at me.</p> + +<p>“They took me for a ghost.</p> + +<p>“Here was my chance. If they would only fire at me, +and kill me, I should be absolved from my penance.</p> + +<p>“They challenged me, but I answered never a word.</p> + +<p>“Again they hailed.</p> + +<p>“‘Who are you? speak, or we will fire.’</p> + +<p>“I stood upon tiptoe and faced them, making a weird +sound with my lips that they might take me for +something unearthly, and, if they had the courage, fire +upon me.</p> + +<p>“One man raised his flintlock and fired deliberately +at me, and the bullet actually shore off a lock from +my temple, which blew away among the rank wet +grass.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>“He looked surprised as I gave a loud, hollow ‘ha! +ha!’ as apparitions and goblins are supposed to do; +upon which he turned and fled, leaving his more +courageous comrade to face me alone. He was a +noble, brave fellow, and I blessed him as he knelt by +the churchyard wall, upon the top of which he rested +his gun and took deliberate aim at my breast.</p> + +<p>“My heart throbbed for joy as I awaited the releasing +leaden missile; but there was only a puff and a snap, +and I knew that only a flash in the pan had resulted +when the soldier drew his trigger.</p> + +<p>“‘Hang the damp powder!’ I heard him say; then +in a louder tone—‘Hold, old Hyter sprite! I’ll have +at thee again; stay thee steady till I prime afresh. +I’ll see of what thou’rt made, and whether thou art +foul fiend in priestly guise, or some hair-brained loon +who would scare an old soldier who has fought the +battles of his country these twenty years.’</p> + +<p>“Then, to my dismay, as he primed his weapon with +dry powder the bell rung out the hour of one, and +I found myself amid the saints in the window again. +I saw the soldier go and examine the tomb on which +I had recently stood, and its surroundings, and then +stride away after his comrade, shaking his head, and +I mentally blessed him.</p> + +<p>“A hundred years ago—in 1793—I once more gained +my life for the allotted sixty minutes, and knew that in +Paris the Revolution was at its height. But what did +that signify to me. St. F——’s Church was not in Paris, +or I might have been released unknowingly by one +of the dreadful bands of ruffians to whom nothing was +sacred.</p> + +<p>“I stood in the dark old church and pondered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>“What <i>should</i> I do?</p> + +<p>“<i>Where</i> could I go?</p> + +<p>“What could I <i>do</i>?</p> + +<p>“Nothing, absolutely <i>nothing</i>! Stay; I would spend +my time in fervent prayer, kneeling before the cross on +the Holy Table, and see if that could release me from +my awful doom.</p> + +<p>“I knelt, and prayed, and wept, wringing my hands as +the tears coursed down my cheeks, like burning streams +of molten lava; but as I thus knelt at my devotions the +vestry door of the church opened, and two men entered, +one of them bearing a lantern. They paused near the +communion rails, and one (by whose attire I judged him +to be the vicar) said:</p> + +<p>“‘Now, Giles, I may have dropped it here whilst +performing the evening service, and if so we should see +the stone glitter by the light of the lantern; let us look +around the chancel.’</p> + +<p>“The speaker had evidently lost a gem ring and was +seeking it.</p> + +<p>“Not knowing what to do I continued kneeling, to see +what course events might take. I had not long to wait, +for a sudden shrill scream, a moan, and a dull thud +caused me to look round. Down the nave bounded the +man who bore the lantern, yelling lustily for help, and +his companion lay prone upon his face quite near me. +I approached, bent over the prostrate form, and turned +the body over on its back—for body only it was, the +soul had fled. Happy man! he could die and be at +rest, while I, who courted death in any form, could only +be—(Boom! the bell tolled One)—a quaint, stiff, transparent +figure of glass!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>“And now, my dear friend (for you <i>will</i> befriend me if +it is in your power, I know, after hearing my awful story) +I find myself in 1893 in your studio, and to my horror +hear that I am to be bound in fetters of new leadwork: +a new lease, as it were, of my penance!</p> + +<p>“My time is short; what can you do for me?</p> + +<p>“How can you destroy me?</p> + +<p>“How <i>can</i> a catastrophe be brought about without +premeditation? How can one <i>think</i> without premeditation?</p> + +<p>“My friend, save me! but five minutes remain. I +cannot think, my brain is on fire.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend, think for me, I implore you!</p> + +<p>“Oh! Heaven help me; do not extend my penance +till the crack of doom!</p> + +<p>“Watch the minutes gliding by—but two remain.</p> + +<p>“I am going mad; mad! and you sit there dumb, +who might, by an effort of thought, be my saviour.</p> + +<p>“<i>One</i> minute; and then—purgatory for one hundred +years!”</p> + +<p>I looked at my guest and saw the great beads of +perspiration chasing each other down his temples; I saw +his fingers writhing like serpents, clutching at the empty +air; I saw his eyes glaring upon me, and piercing me +through like two arrows; I saw him rise as if to fly at +me and strangle me, and recoiled with horror at the +sight of him; but he never came a step nearer for the +bell of the neighbouring church struck a big, reverberating +<i>One!</i> and as the corporeal figure of the monk +began quickly to dissolve into its glassy form, I sprang +at it not knowing what I did, and tried to grasp it, but +my arms pierced through it as if it were tissue paper, +and I fell headlong upon the floor, with a terrible pain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> +in my forehead, and as I fell I distinctly heard the words—“Joy +and rest for ever; my doom is past! God in +His mercy be praised!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>When I recovered consciousness it was 8.30 a.m., and +a doctor and my assistants were round me, using various +restoratives. Across my forehead was a terrible gash, +which the doctor had sewn and bandaged, and at the +foot of the glass screen lay the broken fragments of my +visitor, the Monk.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>To show that it does not always do to rely on one’s +own strength, either physically or mentally, I may say +that not only did I obtain complete control over the will +of my stained-glass artist friend, but taking him at his +word, I received from his unconscious self the material +for <i>several</i> capital stories; and all this from the man +who could neither be hypnotized nor tell a single story! +The overplus of this glass-painter’s genius as a story-teller +I reserve for future consideration.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">IX.<br> + +INTRODUCTION TO “DOCTOR +ANGUS SINCLAIR.”</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wherever</span> I happen to be, whether in town or at a +seaport, the sight of a genuine tar has a fascination for +me, and I feel bound to speak to the man, if he is at all +a decent person and has a civil and clean tongue. I find +that the average sailor is a very reticent fellow on first +acquaintance, probably taking every landsman for a +shark; and as that is his belief, he is very wary of +strangers who may wish to engage him in conversation. +No doubt, in ports all over the world, Jack meets with +plenty of unprincipled people, ready to take advantage +of him in any way that presents itself, and, knowing this, +he is consequently on his guard, and in time looks with +doubt upon all strangers, as possible enemies, sailing +under false colours. Thus is Jack taciturn on first +acquaintanceship, both at home or abroad, but when +once he finds that he has a friend to deal with, his +tongue is loosened and the bulkhead of cautious reserve +soon battered down, and he will then fire off his jokes +and yarns in a most amicable and boisterous manner.</p> + +<p>Old John Beamish, whom I met in the port of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> +Aberdeen, was one of these peculiarly reserved men, +carrying his character in his face, as a stout, true, hard-headed +North Briton; and it was only after several +friendly “cracks” that I could at all thaw the apparently +austere Captain Beamish.</p> + +<p>The gallant skipper no doubt put me down as a bad +lot, seeing that I lived in a gipsy-van, and when I informed +him that I only wandered about for my own +pleasure, tapped his short fat forefinger on his nose, which +I took to be a sign that my statement was somewhat +open to doubt. He could not conceive that any sane +person, with a fair income, should live on wheels, with +no permanent address, when the said income would +provide “a nice snug little house, with a tidy bit of +garden, a summer-house, and a tall flagstaff, for its +possessor.”</p> + +<p>However, after I had persuaded the captain to pay +me several visits, he came to the conclusion that I might +by some chance be speaking the truth after all, and we +had several pleasant evenings, which were passed in +chatting, cards, and whisky. Captain John loved cribbage +very much, but whisky more; and, on one or two +occasions, I had to steady him as he took his departure +from my van, the step-ladder, or companion as he called +it, being very steep.</p> + +<p>When I broached the subject of hypnotism the good +man was unfeignedly alarmed, and I fully believe +placed my cards, whisky, and hospitality down to a bad +cause. I think he expected I had been luring him on +to rob him, or take some other advantage of him, and +for several days I could not prevail upon him to spend +another evening with me, until I informed him that I +was to depart in a day or two. Then I invited him to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> +pay me a farewell visit. My invitation was accepted, +and he came, but I very soon noticed one thing, and +that was, that he had left his watch at home.</p> + +<p>He played and drank as usual, and as the evening +wore on he mellowed under the influence of “mountain +dew.” With each successive draught his uneasiness +gradually disappeared, until he became quite communicative; +and then—well then, feeling for all the world +like a murderer—I added him to the number of my +victims.</p> + +<h3>DOCTOR ANGUS SINCLAIR.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">I have</span>—as seaman, mate, and skipper—in forty years +seen some curious sights, you may be sure, although all +my voyages have been to the north, ay, and pretty far +north too, some of them; for we whalers have to go +wherever the fish are to be found, and if we cannot find +them near home, why, we have just got to go north and +search till we do fall in with them.</p> + +<p>You want to know the most wonderful thing I ever +came across in my long life of hardship and adventure +in the Arctic Seas? Well, there is nothing that I know +of to equal the finding of Doctor Angus Sinclair in +1862. But as you want it spun properly I’ll give you +the yarn from beginning to end, and then you’ll see for +yourself what a curious adventure it was.</p> + +<p>In 1862 I was mate of the <i>White Swan</i> whaler, sailing +from the port of Dundee, and as we had made a very +poor fishing during the previous season in the Greenland +Sea, our skipper made up his mind to try fresh ground, +and to steer north-eastward to the Spitzbergen Islands,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> +as he knew of some likely ground to the eastward of +those islands.</p> + +<p>The most eastern of the Spitzbergen Isles is one +called Wyches, or King Charles’s Island, and our skipper +made straight for this island, intending to build a hut +there, and make it a kind of winter habitation, should we +be obliged to go into winter quarters before getting a +full cargo. Our owner had instructed the skipper to +take what oil he could get of the right sort, but, if he +could not obtain a full cargo, to wait till he could fill up +with something else—by this meaning seal-pelts, seal-oil, +bear’s robes, walrus’ tusks or skin, or anything else +worth the freight.</p> + +<p>Having all our outfit aboard we left Dundee, touched +at Tromso, and in a fortnight arrived safely at Wyches +Island, where we stayed about a week to build a large +and comfortable hut, with timber brought with us from +Dundee. Holes were dug into the everlastingly frozen +ground, and posts erected, upon the outsides of which +inch boards were nailed, and afterwards upon the inside +also. This formed a double skin, leaving a space of +some six inches between, which was filled with sawdust +tightly rammed down. The roof was made in the same +way, and when it was finished the whole of the interior +was lined with thick felt.</p> + +<p>There were four double-glazed windows facing the +cardinal points, and only one door facing south-west. +This door was well draped in thick blanketing to keep +out the cold blasts of air. Bunks were ranged round +the walls, and a large stove for cooking and heating +purposes stood in the centre of the floor. Round the +stove, forming three sides of a square, stood deal tables, +for dining and other purposes. Such was our “Swan’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> +Nest,” as we christened it, and we afterwards found it +very cosy.</p> + +<p>Between Spitzbergen and Franz Joseph Land we +cruised during the summer and autumn with fair success, +but when the time came that we should for safety +be sailing southward and homeward, we found that our +cargo was not nearly a full one. Seeing this, the skipper +had a grand “palaver” on deck, in which he did nearly +all the talking, and informed the crew that he had +decided to winter in White Swan Inlet; and finding +that one or two of the crew were for going home and +returning in the early spring, he gave them leave to do +so, but also pointed out that if they were mammy sick, +and wished to go home, they would have to <i>walk</i> +there!</p> + +<p>Our crew numbered forty hands all told, and a fine, +jolly lot of fellows they were, living very harmoniously +together, splitting up naturally into parties for fishing +and shooting expeditions, when the weather would allow +of it. Some of these excursions were for the benefit of +our owner, as the skipper and I each headed parties to +hunt bears, and to knock over a few seals now and +again. At other times the parties were for the purpose +of replenishing the larder, as we learnt to snare white +foxes, geese, and other things of a furry or feathered +nature; whatever we obtained went into the huge cauldron +which always stood on the stove, <i>à la</i> the French +<i>pot au feu</i>. By the way, our stove was as carefully +watched as any sacred lamp in a continental cathedral, +for it was never allowed to show even a symptom of +going out, either by night or day.</p> + +<p>Sometimes we would organize little exploring parties +on our own account (having first obtained the skipper’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> +sanction), and wandered away for miles among the hills +of the frozen island, thus leaving more space for those +who remained at home to play their indoor games. +Could any of our friends have looked into the “Swan’s +Nest,” they might easily have mistaken it for a boys’ +school, or even a play-ground. Let me just give you +an idea of what the inmates did to pass their time +away, from notes of the scene jotted in my pocket-book +on one occasion.</p> + +<p>Two men were cooking for the general mess. The +armourer was cleaning or repairing guns, knives, etc., +for some projected expedition, while round the fire sat +a noisy group telling yarns and smoking. Near them +sat a party of four playing some game of cards; a desperate +game apparently, for they looked very solemn +and absorbed. The boys were enjoying a game of leap-frog +at one end of the room, while several of the bunks +were occupied by men, some of whom were asleep, a +couple on the sick list, and others reading. There +was a man, the cobbler of the crew, mending boots, +while at his side sat Snip, sewing away at the seat of a +pair of duffel trousers, what he calls armour-plating +them; and along the north side was a skittle alley, at +which a knot of tars are very much enjoying themselves, +if we might judge by the shouts of merriment and hearty +smacks upon the back with which they salute each other.</p> + +<p>Hands behind his back by the stove, with his legs +thrust apart like a pair of compasses, stood the skipper, +sipping a glass of something steaming hot, while your +humble servant had just finished posting up the ship’s +journal; for the skipper was a poor hand with the pen, +his fingers being all thumbs, and his thumbs like +stun’sail booms.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>Well, now that I have shown you how we amused +ourselves, I will proceed with my yarn.</p> + +<p>Ever since I was quite a nipper I have had a fondness +for exploring and roaming about whenever I could get +off duty, and this propensity did not desert me amid +the snow and ice of the Arctic regions, as you shall +hear.</p> + +<p>I begged the skipper to allow me to make a tour of +the island on which we were living; a tour having for +its object the making of an accurate map; one, at any +rate, more accurate than that at the time laid down in +the charts.</p> + +<p>He met me with a flat and decided “No!”</p> + +<p>“Why, man, are you mad? The island we are on is +as large as the principality of Wales, and to compass it +you would have to travel at least four hundred miles, +which would probably mean an absence of nine or ten +weeks! No, my man, this is not <i>quite</i> a lunatic asylum; +not yet, at all events.”</p> + +<p>It was no use pleading, but his refusal set my back +up, as the men twitted me (not to my face, but indirectly), +with wanting to be a circumnavigator of the world +on my own account.</p> + +<p>Two of them would waddle round the tables, and, +when they met, pretend they had not seen each other +for years, and shake hands and embrace in a most +enthusiastic manner, to the delight of the crew and +my own chagrin.</p> + +<p>One day, the weather being clear, the skipper brought +out his big telescope, and was very busy with it, taking +long surveys at a distant island lying due south of +the Inlet. He requested me to get the charts of the +Spitzbergen group down, which I did.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>“Now look here,” said he, addressing me; “that +island to the south’ard is laid down in the chart as a +mere rock, and only indicated by a big dot and the +words ‘rocks of some extent.’ Now, by my glass, it +looks a tidy big island, at least six or eight miles from +east to west, and goodness knows how long from north +to south. I can see parts of it which must rise to a +height of several hundred feet, and probably the whole +island would take some three or four days to travel +round on the rough ice. Now what do you say to take +two or three hands and go and explore it?”</p> + +<p>“What do I say?—why jump at it with pleasure, of +course; but give me a couple of days to get ready, and +allow me to pick my crew.”</p> + +<p>This was assented to, and in the three days allotted +I rigged up one of the small boats on runners, loaded it +with felt sleeping-bags, a tent, small stove, guns, provisions, +a lamp, and many other things that might be +required.</p> + +<p>On the third day I started off with four men, who +were as eager for the expedition as myself, being only +too glad to undertake anything for a change from the +monotonous hut life. We were granted six days to be +away; if we had not returned by the end of that time +a search party would be sent out to seek us. We were +instructed to plant a rod with a piece of red bunting at +our various halting-places, so that if necessary our steps +might easily be followed.</p> + +<p>As we started off the whole ship’s company came out +to bid us farewell, and it made our hearts bound with +joy and pride, when we heard their voices, with loud +“hurrahs,” make the surrounding icy peaks of these +Arctic solitudes echo again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>We had ten miles to scramble over the excessively +rough ice which lay between our winter quarters and +the island. Six or eight of our mates came half-way +with us, to give us a hand in dragging our sledge-boat.</p> + +<p>It was terrible hard work, and the first five miles took +us six hours to accomplish, as the ice was in some places +piled in hummocks twenty and even thirty feet high; +round these we had to make a <i>détour</i>, so that our course +was very meandering and uncertain.</p> + +<p>We made a halt and refreshed, each of us having a cup +of hot coffee to drink with the meal we had brought with +us. We could see the “Swan’s Nest” built on the side +of a hill facing south-west, and, not a couple of hundred +yards away, was our vessel, the <i>White Swan</i>, frozen +solidly into the ice. Her topmasts and heavy gear had +been sent down and stowed on deck, which from stem +to stern was covered in with a span roof of timber; so +that she looked something like a long black shed, with +three tall chimneys thrust through the roof.</p> + +<p>After half-an-hour’s halt our comrades left us and +returned to the “Swan’s Nest,” hoping to see us again +in six days at furthest.</p> + +<p>After a long and rough scramble we at length reached +the island, and selecting a nook between two rocky +cliffs, erected our tent and prepared everything to pass +the night there. The rocks on three sides kept the wind +off famously, what little there was, and to give some +protection from any bears who might be prowling +about, we drew the sledge across the narrow entrance +to our nook; the stove we rigged up at the mouth of +the tent. We cooked a kind of stew, had a pannikin +of hot coffee each, and then, drawing sleeping-bags +over our legs up to our waists, sat and played cards<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> +by lantern light till we were ready for slumber, when +we drew the bags completely over our heads and slept +soundly till it was time to be up and stirring.</p> + +<p>So far everything had been quiet and comfortable, but +while we were consuming our breakfast, one of the men +named Adams went to the boat for some more ship’s +bread, and was in the act of taking it from the bag in +which it was kept when a huge white bear put his nose +over the side of the boat and opened its mouth, just as +you see them in menageries when a biscuit is about to +be tossed to them. He appeared to say,</p> + +<p>“Don’t forget me, mate.”</p> + +<p>Adams, far from being frightened, stooped and picked +up an axe from the floor of the boat, and swinging it +aloft brought it down so as to strike the animal fairly +on the head, and had he succeeded he would probably +have killed it instantaneously, as he was a powerful +man.</p> + +<p>The bear was too quick for him, however, and dodged +the intended blow, so that the axe, instead of being +buried in the furry one’s skull, found a billet in the side +of the boat, where it was wedged so tightly by the force +of the blow, that Adams could not withdraw it. He +turned round to jump out and run to us, but the bear, +rising on its hind legs, caught him a blow in the ribs +which sent him with a crash into the bottom of the boat.</p> + +<p>The bear still stood on its hind legs, roaring and +looking very wicked—offering a capital mark for our +rifles, three of which were aimed at the monster at the +same time. Two almost simultaneous reports rang out, +and the monster fell: my piece failed to go off—a bad +cap I found afterwards, for breechloaders were not then +in general use. We made a rush upon our fallen foe to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> +give him the <i>coup de grâce</i>, but the terrible fellow was +quite dead, from a shot through the eye, which had +doubtless penetrated the brain. Two of his claws had +been carried away by the other bullet, which came very +near missing altogether.</p> + +<p>Adams lay in the bottom of the boat perfectly conscious, +and looking at us, but giving occasional groans.</p> + +<p>“Are you hurt?” we asked.</p> + +<p>“Hurt, mates? I’m afraid to move, for fear my whole +starboard side is stove in. Give us a hand, one of you; +steady—gently now.”</p> + +<p>He rose with difficulty, and we carried him to the +tent and examined his side. No bones were broken, +but from the armpit to the waist was a terrible bruise +upon which we rubbed a good coat of the bear’s fat, on +the principle that like cures like.</p> + +<p>Fearing that he would be an incumbrance to us, he +determined to start back to the “Swan’s Nest” alone, as +he could not pull on the sledge-ropes; so shouldering +his rifle the plucky fellow returned across the icy +wilderness, and reached our quarters safely (as we afterwards +found), tired and sore in every limb, after a tramp +and clamber of twelve hours.</p> + +<p>We skinned the bear, rolling up the robe and placing +it in the boat, and then commenced our tour of the +island.</p> + +<p>We had made the island on the north shore, and +gradually worked round along the east coast, till we +arrived at the south, where we discovered a nearly +land-locked harbour of considerable extent, which we +entered, finding it covered with quite smooth ice, smooth +enough, in fact, for skating, which is a somewhat rare +occurrence in these regions. The Ancient Mariner had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> +“water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink,” +while in the far north we have ice and snow everywhere, +but not a place to skate. The harbour was +surrounded by steep cliffs of great height and snow-clad, +but still a cosy-looking place for winter quarters for +a whaler.</p> + +<p>As we looked around these wall-like cliffs, we were +startled by the sight of what appeared to be a solid-looking +hut, built in a hollow, over which the great +brown cliffs lowered as if they would fall and crush it. +A steep, pathless, snowy slope led up to this strange +dwelling, which no sooner caught sight of than, like a +lot of boys just let out of school, we, with one accord, +dropped our sledge-tugs and bounded up the craggy +acclivity to see what it contained.</p> + +<p>Sure enough it <i>was</i> a hut, and of fair size too, built +with its rear supported by the rocky cliffs, which had +been hollowed out to receive it. Two windows, heavily +barred, looked out over the frozen sea below, and between +them was the heavy door, from a hole in which depended +a thin metal chain. I seized the chain and gave it a +pull, which raised a bar of wood within, causing the door +to swing open of its own accord.</p> + +<p>We looked within, but the interior was so dark that +little was visible, even with the door open; but we +could see a piece of blanket or battered sail stretched +from side to side of the cabin, so as to divide it into two +apartments, and we could also discern a rough, ancient-looking +chair, and several large articles. I stepped in +and drew the curtain aside; I say <i>drew</i> it aside, but it +really fell apart in my hand as I endeavoured to do so. +Anyhow, enough of it was removed for me to see a +most gruesome sight; for there, in the dim light, I could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> +dimly discern the figure of a dead man, sitting by a +table or bench, and, as may be supposed, the sight +made me recoil against my comrades, whom I so +imbued with my fright, that we all rushed out of the hut +together.</p> + +<p>Telling them what I had seen, I sent one of them to +the boat for the lantern, so that we could obtain a light, +and enter again into the inner apartment of the hut.</p> + +<p>The lantern being brought, we crowded in quietly +together, I being foremost with the light, and there, sure +enough, sat a man at the table in such an attitude +that, had we not known he must be dead, we should +have thought he was simply asleep. He looked about +sixty years of age, and possessed very fine intellectual +features; but on closer examination we were surprised +to find that his beard, instead of being an ordinary +one of, say, a few inches long, or even an extraordinary +one of a growth reaching to the waist, was of such an +abnormal length that it not only reached the floor, but +lay there in a huge tangled mass; nor was his hair +a whit behind, as it fell in tresses over the back of the +chair, and was actually frozen to the floor all around +him. His eyebrows, too, hung down over his eyelids +touching his cheeks, and as for his finger-nails!—well, +they were as long and pointed as “the quills upon the +back of the fretful porcupine.” His toe-nails had +pierced his shoes, and extended beyond his toes a foot +or more.</p> + +<p>We gazed in silence, being struck speechless with +amazement at the marvellous sight, and for some time +our eyes were so riveted on the strange object before +us, that we forgot each other’s presence.</p> + +<p>My voice first broke the silence, but as I spoke my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> +words seemed a kind of sacrilege to the presence and +awful silence and solemnity of the dead man before us.</p> + +<p>“Well, mates, what do you make of this?” I asked.</p> + +<p>No one knew what to make of it, but old Johnson, our +carpenter, asked—</p> + +<p>“What’s that thing on the table in front of him?”</p> + +<p>I held the lantern closer, to what appeared to be a +curiously-shaped box; it was tall, and narrow, and of +an octagonal form.</p> + +<p>Drawing it towards me I raised the lid, for it was not +locked, and discovered another small case within it. +This I also opened, and within I found a roll of parchment, +on which was clearly written in a bold black +lettering, the following words—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“<span class="smcap">South Island, Spitzbergen</span>,</span><br> +“<i>August 17, 1773</i>.</p> + +<p class="center">“<i>To whomsoever may find me.</i></p> + +<p>“I, Doctor Angus Sinclair, of Arbroath, Scotland, +am the discoverer of a liquid which, injected into a +vein, will suspend life for any length of time. I have +chosen this spot in which to carry out an experiment to +prove to the world that a person may sleep for any +period he chooses; and by the aid of an antidote (which +I have also discovered) may be awakened at any +appointed time.</p> + +<p>“I wish to remain dormant for one hundred years or +more, and should any one discover me before that time, +let him kindly forbear to awaken me.</p> + + +<p class="center">“<i>Directions to restore Animation.</i></p> + +<p>“Make an incision in a vein of my arm, and inject +therein a few drops of the liquor in the blue bottle; in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> +few minutes I shall be restored to consciousness. A little +hot drink of any kind will greatly facilitate my revival.”</p> +</div> + +<p>When I finished reading the strange document, we +looked at each other, then at the doctor, and then at +each other again, not quite knowing what to do; but +I presently sufficiently recovered from my surprise to +hold the lantern close to the old fellow’s face, when we +were startled to find that the colour still remained in his +cheeks, and that the body, instead of being frozen hard, +was quite soft and fleshlike.</p> + +<p>We lifted the old man from his chair, and tried to +lay him out on the floor, but his joints were so set fast +that we could not straighten them, so replaced him +in his seat.</p> + +<p>“Hold on, mates, let us see what the bottles are like,” +I said, for I could see the necks of three projecting from +the box.</p> + +<p>“Ah! here’s the blue one, and on it a label. Let us +see what it says. ‘Liquor to restore Animation. Make +an incision in the left arm and pour in about six or +eight drops.’ That’s the one we want, mates, but let +us see what the others contain. Here is a red bottle, +and the label says, ‘Aid to Restoration. Infuse a teaspoonful +in a gill of warm water, and give the patient to +drink.’”</p> + +<p>Old Matt Johnson set about finding some bits of +driftwood to make a fire, for there was a stove in the +cabin; while another ran to the boat to procure some +water and a saucepan.</p> + +<p>A fire was soon started, and the water made hot: +then came the momentous question—</p> + +<p>“Who will be surgeon?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>We doubted very much that the specifics in the +bottles would have any effect upon the old fellow, who +could scarcely be expected to awaken to life again after +a sleep of ninety years. The document intimated that +one hundred years was the time the doctor wished to +slumber, but we thought ninety years quite long enough +for a first trial; it would be a record for the world, +and beat the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus and Rip Van +Winkle hollow.</p> + +<p>Before commencing to operate on our patient, we +examined the other bottle, which was labelled “Sleeping +Draught. A. S., 1773. Dose, ten drops with +sugar.” This we replaced in the box, none of us +wishing just then to try its effects.</p> + +<p>Johnson at last agreed to make the incision, or as he +called it, “the slot,” and taking out his jack-knife he +whetted it on a piece of stone, giving it a few rubs on +his boot to take off the roughness, and then proceeded +to rip up the doctor’s coat-sleeve. It was one of those +tight-fitting lappeted coats, in vogue during the second +half of the last century, and quite in keeping with the +date on the parchment—1773.</p> + +<p>By the way, on scrutinizing the document once more, +we discovered these words written on the back—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“At his own request I leave Dr. Sinclair on this +island, and have promised to inform the harbour masters +at whaling ports on the Scotch coast that he may be +found on South Island if one of them will put in for +him. He wishes to carry out several experiments of a +scientific nature during the winter of 1772-73.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“(Signed), <span class="smcap">Captain Phipps</span>,</span><br> +“Naval Surveyor to H.M. King George III.”</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>“Now, Chipps,” said I to old Johnson, “are you +ready?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, sir,” said he, flourishing his knife, “ready +and eager for the fray. Where shall I stick him, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Be careful, now,” I replied, “and make a little hole +just there,” and I pointed to a vein on the left +forearm.</p> + +<p>Johnson jabbed his knife in as if he were about to kill +a pig: it made a wound an inch long and an inch deep, +but, strangely enough, no blood flowed. With the aid of +a piece off the stem of a tobacco pipe, I injected a few +drops of the liquid from the blue bottle, and with open +mouths and straining eyes we stood by to watch the +result.</p> + +<p>Several minutes went by without any apparent effect +being noticeable on the old doctor. We felt his pulse, +or rather his wrist, for he was as pulseless as the figurehead +of a ship, and then tried his heart. We endeavoured +to open his mouth to pour in a few drops of +the liquor from the red bottle (which we had mixed +with warm water), but his teeth were so tightly +clenched that we could not give him the “Aid to +Restoration.”</p> + +<p>As we gazed earnestly upon our patient we fancied +we saw a movement of his shaggy eyebrows, but put it +down to the wind which found its way into the cabin +through the open door.</p> + +<p>We watched again, and this time, to our great surprise, +we saw a twitching at the corners of the mouth, sufficient +to cause a movement of the heavy moustache.</p> + +<p>I poured in three drops more from the blue bottle, +and in a few minutes saw the head of our patient slowly +lift and fall back again on his chest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>We tried his mouth again, and this time succeeded in +opening his jaws sufficiently wide to force a few drops +of the warm liquid into his throat.</p> + +<p>Just then two of the men called out simultaneously +that the wound in his arm was bleeding. Sure enough +such was the case, so, whipping out my handkerchief, I +bound up the gaping gash which our friend the carpenter +had made.</p> + +<p>Slowly the old doctor regained his suspended animation +and moved on his chair, and when I raised his +eyebrows, which hung down over his eyes like the hair +on the forehead of a Skye terrier, I found that his eyes +were partially open.</p> + +<p>Quietly taking my knife from my pocket I gently cut +off the long locks of hair, so that the old man could see +about him if he really did come to, after his ninety +years’ sleep.</p> + +<p>He made me start as I shore off his second eyebrow, +for he gave a sudden shudder which caused him to +tremble from top to toe.</p> + +<p>Presently his eyes unclosed a little, and then a little +more, till they gradually opened to their widest extent; +but no animation or speculation was in them—they were +the staring optics of a doll or a corpse.</p> + +<p>His hands next began to tremble, and we could see +the life creeping into his cramped limbs; and then his +lips gave signs of movement. We took the opportunity +to give him the remainder of the liquid in the red bottle +mixed with water, and the effect was wonderful, for in +about half-a-minute the tall figure of Doctor Sinclair +half rose, and like a man suffering from delirium +tremens, uttered the fierce exclamation of “You rascal!” +and fell back on the seat again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>We scuttled out of the cabin like a lot of frightened +children, jostling and falling over each other in +our eagerness to escape from the presence of the +awful-looking being we had brought to life and +action.</p> + +<p>After running some distance down the pathway or +slope, we halted and looked back, as if we expected the +Ancient One to follow us, but as he did not make his +appearance we gradually and stealthily returned, and +emboldened by neither seeing nor hearing anything of +the being within, took courage to push the door of the +cabin open.</p> + +<p>We even went further and looked in, and there we saw +the gaunt figure of Doctor Sinclair with palzied hands +trying to erect itself by the friendly support of the +massive oak table. His legs were so cramped, and, as +it were, rusty by his long trance, that he could not +straighten them properly, and so weak as to be nearly +useless to support his frame. He was a terrible-looking +figure as he peered over the table at us, with his grey +beard and hair of unheard-of growth flowing down +before and behind him in unkempt profusion.</p> + +<p>He moaned and mumbled; and then, with a great +effort, tried to reach us by concentrating his feeble +energies and making a rush at us, but his feet became +entangled in his beard, his legs tottered, and down he +came, crash upon the hard floor, to all appearances dead.</p> + +<p>Then our scattered senses returned to us, and being +ashamed of ourselves and our cowardice, we rushed to +pick him up, and once more to seat him upon his +chair. A little brandy was administered, and presently +we had the satisfaction of seeing him regain consciousness.</p> + +<p>The fire was replenished, and the doctor laid tenderly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> +in his berth and snugly covered up. We warmed some +tinned soup, which refreshed him marvellously; so +much so that he found his voice, and quietly asked, to +our surprise—</p> + +<p>“What year is it?”</p> + +<p>“Eighteen hundred and sixty-two,” we replied.</p> + +<p>“What king is reigning in England,” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No king,” was my reply, “but a queen—Victoria.”</p> + +<p>These answers seemed to satisfy him, for he smiled, +and smiling fell into a sound sleep.</p> + +<p>“Well, here’s a rummy go,” quoth Chips.</p> + +<p>To which we all replied that it was indeed a strange +adventure, and upon looking towards the old wooden cot +one could hardly believe that the tremendous mass of +white seaweed-looking substance trailing from the +blanket to the floor, where it lay coiled like a heap of +oakum, was ever the growth of a human head; there +it was, however, proof positive before our astonished +eyes.</p> + +<p>Well, I must not spin my yarn out too long, or I may +get it like the old man’s hair—into a tangle.</p> + +<p>We stayed at the hut two days, during which the old +doctor appeared to gather strength hourly; so much so +that, with assistance, he could walk several yards, and +nearly straighten his legs and back.</p> + +<p>We made him a comfortable couch in the sledge-boat, +covering him with the bear’s skin and a blanket, and all +being in readiness we started back northward to Swan +Inlet, having abandoned all idea of completing our +survey of South Island, at least for the present.</p> + +<p>We hoisted a large piece of red bunting at the prow +of our sledge, and when we had arrived within about +four miles of our destination, we could, with my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> +binocular, discern little black figures leaving the “Nest” +and coming over the ice to assist us back.</p> + +<p>We halted between two ice hummocks, got out our +stoves, and prepared a savoury meal of bear steaks and +tinned soup, both of which, in such intense cold, were +exceedingly welcome.</p> + +<p>By the time our repast was completed and we had +again got under weigh, the foremost of our comrades +were nearly within hail. We soon rejoined them, and +were very glad of their assistance to help us to tug our +increased load over the rough hummocky ice.</p> + +<p>We said not a word of our newly-found hairy man, for +fear they might want to see him, and thus cause him +annoyance. We wished to drag the sledge close to the +shore, so that we could carry him right into the cosy +“Swan’s Nest” at once, and put him to bed.</p> + +<p>As we proceeded over the frozen ice and neared home, +other men kept coming out to meet us, till all but about +half-a-dozen of the whole forty were tailing on to the +ropes, and taking the sledge along at a smart trot.</p> + +<p>They could tell that there was some mystery attached +to the carefully-covered object in the stern, and it was +useless for us to try and put them off by saying it was +only a heap of bear robes, for now and again the object +moved. They would have uncovered it to see what was +there, but I sternly forbade them to do so. Guesses of +all kinds were made as to what the mysterious heap +consisted of, but although many tried to unravel the secret +not one succeeded. Some guessed young bears, another +a nest of foxes—others said seals, and one averred it +could be nothing but a young walrus, from its size and +shape, but none hit upon anything near the truth.</p> + +<p>The inlet was reached at last, the sledge travelling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> +over the smooth ice of the haven at a great pace, but +not before our gallant skipper was ready on the beach +to welcome me and my men back.</p> + +<p>We shook hands, and I then told the men to stand +back, as I had something I wished to tell the captain. +They stood away a few yards, in a circle, so as to +completely surround us and the sledge, as if they +were afraid it contained something that might escape. +Hurriedly I told the captain the principal points of +our adventure. He was struck all of a heap, as +our American cousins say, and was at first disinclined +to credit my story of apparently superhuman return +to life.</p> + +<p>However, he quietly lifted the blanket, and looking at +the uncanny creature beneath, their eyes met. The +captain started as if he had seen a savage lion, but +quickly regaining his equanimity, gave orders for four +hands to bring down a “barrow,” as the implement +(which looks like a bier) is called. Twenty hands +started for the barrow, and in five minutes the doctor +was lying on it, while Chips and I walked behind with +his surplus beard and hair coiled in our hands, to +prevent it from trailing on the ground and throwing +the bearers down.</p> + +<p>The doctor was put to bed, well fed for two or three +days, at the end of which time he could stand, and even +walk a short distance alone; and within three weeks was +able to form one of the members of our shooting-parties, +and although fifty-eight years of age, was as +strong and hearty a man as any of us.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Spring at last came, and by July we had a full cargo; +consequently, on the last of that month, we steered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> +south-west, homeward bound for bonny Scotland and +the relatives we had been parted from so long.</p> + +<p>The doctor, of whom we had grown fond, was a very +cheery companion, and looked a strange figure as he +walked about the deck, with his carefully-combed and +brushed hair and beard coiled neatly round his waist, +and usually fastened off with a bit of scarlet bunting.</p> + +<p>The wildness of his hilarity seemed at times to point +to an unhinged mind, and as the good ship <i>White Swan</i> +neared her destination, he became so excited that pronounced +symptoms of madness appeared. These symptoms +increased so rapidly, that when within about five +hundred miles of Aberdeen, the poor doctor had to be +locked in the captain’s cabin. He refused all food, and +when it was placed inside the door instantly flung it +into the sea from the stern windows.</p> + +<p>“Only one more night and part of a day,” said the +skipper, “and we shall be in Aberdeen, if this breeze +holds, when we will immediately have a doctor on board +to see to our poor friend and companion, Sinclair.”</p> + +<p>But it was not to be so; for next morning, when the +captain went to the cabin to ask the doctor how he fared, +as was his custom several times during the day, although +he only got abuse for his pains, and even threats +of violence, he received no answer.</p> + +<p>He knocked and knocked again without obtaining a +reply, and mounting the companion peered into the +cabin through the skylight; but not a trace of Doctor +Sinclair was to be seen.</p> + +<p>Finally the cabin door was burst open, and to the +regret of all it was found that the doctor had disappeared. +There was no mystery about it, for it was a +clear case of self-destruction while of unsound mind: he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +had leaped out of one of the stern windows and +drowned himself.</p> + +<p>On reaching port our yarn was soon spread abroad, +but of course laughed at by every one, as we had no proof +that Doctor Angus Sinclair had ever existed, except in +our imagination. True, we had the three bottles and the +parchment, and these were in due time sent to the College +of Physicians in London, where they were analyzed and +commented upon in the medical journals.</p> + +<p>What little remained of the “Suspender of Animation” +was given to rabbits and dogs, and it really had such a +soporific power that they could not be awakened, and, as +long as they were kept in an atmosphere below 25°, they +remained without signs of decay, even for years after.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, we had used, in restoring the old +doctor to animation, all the contents of the blue bottle—three +drops excepted. The contents of the red bottle +proved, on analysis, to be a concentrated quintessence +of brandy, which accounts for the doctor requiring it to +be mixed with hot water before being administered.</p> + +<p>His idea was that animation might often be usefully +suspended in the case of persons out of work, on a +voyage, or in embarrassed circumstances; that many, +who wished to skip over, as it were, a few years of life,—either +for the purpose of evading creditors, or escaping +the nagging tongue of a contentious wife—would welcome +his discovery and hail it, indeed, as the greatest +of all possible boons.</p> + +<p>Certain it is that had the doctor lived to patent +his idea, he would have completely revolutionized the +social world. If our skipper had only clapped on the +“darbies” when he put the doctor in his cabin, we +might now be living in strangely-altered times.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>Just pause and deliberate on what wonders might +have happened, but for the untimely madness and +death of Doctor Angus Sinclair.</p> + +<p>You, gentle reader, will probably come to the conclusion +that my yarn is like Heathen mythology—very +fair reading, but without much to recommend it in the +way of truth.</p> + +<p>If, however, you should require further proof of the +authenticity of my story, you have only to fit out a suitable +yacht, sail for Spitzbergen, hunt about for South +Island, and having found it, you will probably also find +the hut just as I have described it, perched half-way up +the cliffs, in a bay (on the south of the island, mind you); +and if you enter the said hut and search on the shelf +over the wooden berth, you will find all that remains of +Doctor Angus Sinclair; a relic that we in our hurry left +behind; a relic that will prove my yarn to be strictly +true, for the memento consists of the grand old doctor’s +wonderful eyebrows.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Strange to say, amid the scores of stories which +I heard in all parts of England, but few of them were +connected with ghosts, visions, or apparitions, and from +this paucity of tales of the supernatural, I have come to +the conclusion that the majority of such stories are +somewhat mythical and usually mere hearsay, not even +second-hand versions of something that has really happened, +but stories told by the fireside in the first place, +and afterwards handed from mouth to mouth with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> +numerous additions and alterations to suit places and +individuals, until at length they become so changed and +distorted that their inventors would not recognize the +offspring of their own imagination, should they at any +subsequent period listen to their recital.</p> + +<p>Usually, after a story had been told, if I put the +question, “Did you see this?” the answer would be, +“Oh, no; John Williams told me about it, and I believe +he heard it from Tom Smith.” A search for Tom +Smith would only result in the fact that he had heard +it from Harry Jones, etc., so that, strive as one might, +the actual participator in the gruesome adventure one +wished to fathom could never be discovered.</p> + +<p>One very cold December day I happened to be passing +through North Somersetshire, and whilst in the vicinity +of Minehead, made the acquaintance of a farmer who +was also a blacksmith. My stove had broken down, +and one or two odd jobs of ironwork required to be +done, so I procured the services of my new acquaintance, +and when the various little repairs had been +finished, invited him to share my evening meal, and join +me in a pipe and hand at cards.</p> + +<p>He was nothing loath, and stayed. Of course my +usual ghoulish thirst for a story possessed me, and I +endeavoured to obtain one from my guest, but he +affirmed that he could no more tell a story than I could +put him to sleep. Nothing memorable, he averred, had +ever occurred during his life, so how could he tell of +what had never happened?</p> + +<p>Then we fell to speaking of farming and crops, horses +and fields, and among other items he mentioned that +his best crops were obtained from the field in which my +van was then located, called the Haunted Field.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>“What,” thought I, “the haunted field! this must be +seen into.”</p> + +<p>And see into it I did, for five minutes later my guest +was in a hypnotic trance, and from his lips I gathered +the following very Christmassy story.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">X.<br> + +THE PHANTOM RIDERS.</h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Once</span> upon a time” might fittingly be the initial +words of this story, for the terrible events of which it is +a narration took place long, long years ago; in fact, at +the end of the seventeenth century.</p> + +<p>To be precise, the day on which the stirring narrative +commences was December 23, 1695, two hundred years +ago this very Christmas, but heaven protect us from +such a dreadful Christmastide as that.</p> + +<p>The old Manor House at Minehead, in Somersetshire, +no longer exists, for the legends attached to it were of +such a terrifying nature, that no one dare rent it after +the death of John Simmonds in 1696, so that being +uncared for, the old house lingered and decayed till it +looked an ideal picture of “desolation.”</p> + +<p>Haunted or no, there was something so uncanny in +the appearance of the old gables, fast tottering to ruin, +that even in the crepuscular light of early evening, persons +would hurry by it with a shudder, while later at night, +many would go a long way round rather than pass its +weather-worn walls. The very air that blew past the +ruin seemed to gather a deathly fragrance, which was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +doubtless due to the fast-rotting timbers of the floors +and ceilings.</p> + +<p>Be that as it may, the evil repute of the old house +grew so great, and such dreadful stories were current +concerning its sights and sounds, that it was some +years ago pulled down, the ground ploughed up, and +crops now flourish where, for generations, owls and bats +held their habitation undisturbed.</p> + +<p>Minehead Manor House was an Elizabethan red-brick +structure, with tall twisted chimneys, curved gables, and +dormer windows peeping out from the red clay tiles. +Its grounds were extensive, its gardens prim, and its +fish-pond well stocked with carp, eel, and pike; for John +Simmonds, the owner, was fond of wandering about and +improving his domain. His gardens and fish-pond were +his hobbies, and so fully occupied his entire time that +he was seldom seen in the village, where he was greatly +respected and admired for his kindness to the poor, +while his grand old English appearance had all the +stateliness of a typical country squire.</p> + +<p>He had an only daughter, Julia, an accomplished +young lady as accomplishments went in those days. +She could sing and accompany herself upon the spinet, +could embroider beautifully, spin, and generally comport +herself as a young lady of twenty-three should, who +has a whole household on her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Of lady friends she had few, and her gentlemen +friends were even still more scarce. One young gentleman, +Wynne Clarge (a distant relative), who lived near, +assumed, probably because of the non-existence of any +rival, that he should some day claim her for his wife, +but he was very apathetic in the matter. There was +little real <i>love</i> between them; they were passable friends,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> +and that was all; he looked upon Julia as he did +upon his horse—they were both nice in their way, +and ministered to his wants; for the rest he took +everything as a matter of course, simply because he had +no rival.</p> + +<p>Things were running in their usual groove, when one +day, early in December, a gentleman was announced, +who had called to pay his respects to Mr. Simmonds.</p> + +<p>It was soon explained that he was Charles Benwell, +the son of Mr. Simmonds’ sister, who had for many +years resided in Virginia.</p> + +<p>The cousins (for Charles was invited to stay at the +Manor House for a few weeks) fell in love with each +other at first sight, and the love was so sincere and +intense, that ere three weeks had passed, Mr. Simmonds +was solicited for Julia’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Quick work, my boy,” quoth the genial old man. +“Why, you have scarcely had time to know each +other yet. It puts me in mind of Julius Cæsar, does +this visit of yours, ‘He came, he saw, he conquered,’ +and so have you, apparently. Well, well, we shall see. +But you must not expect a fat dowry with her, for she +can sing, ‘My face is my fortune,’ like the maid in the +song; but still she will not be penniless—no, no! I will +see that she has a suitable maintenance.”</p> + +<p>“As to that, Mr. Simmonds, you know I am over +here for the purpose of selling the property which my +poor mother—your sister—has left me. There are three +estates of considerable size, amounting in the aggregate +to something like twelve hundred acres, besides several +houses, the documents appertaining to which I have left +at the solicitor’s at Dulverton.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. Simmonds, tell me, have you any objection<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> +to my looking upon your daughter as my affianced +bride?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Simmonds had no objection, but being a very +cautious business man, would like just a glance at the +documents empowering Charles to sell his late mother’s +estates, simply as a matter of precaution, and to ascertain +if there were a flaw anywhere that might cause any +delay in the disposal of the property.</p> + +<p>“As to that,” rapturously vociferated Benwell, “the +papers shall be in your hands by this time to-morrow, +so that you may search them through, and then on +glorious Christmas Eve give your sanction and blessing +to our engagement.”</p> + +<p>“Only fancy being engaged on Christmas Eve, Julia!” +exclaimed Charles. “How romantic! It is like the +beginning of a story-book.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>From the day of Benwell’s arrival, Wynne Clarge +had roamed about the house and grounds, snarling at +every one and everything. He had treated Julia very +rudely, and one day suddenly asked her—</p> + +<p>“What is that fellow dangling about after you for? +I will not have it, Julia.”</p> + +<p>“But, Wynne,” his fair cousin replied, “it can surely +be no business of yours if he wishes to pay me attention; +he is my cousin, and who knows but he may make me a +proposal before he leaves Minehead?”</p> + +<p>All this was said coquettishly, but looking up at +Wynne she was frightened at the look of hatred she +perceived on his face.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_214a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_214a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“His sword point, which was advanced towards the spectators, was +seen to be covered with blood.”—<i>p. <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“A proposal he <i>may</i> make, but your husband he shall +never be while I wear this by my side,” and he touched<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> +the hilt of his rapier significantly, as he strode off down +the garden path.</p> + +<p>From that day he sought to quarrel with young +Benwell, and his relations with Mr. Simmonds became +so strained, that the old gentleman grew alarmed at +his manner, and quietly but firmly forbade him the +house.</p> + +<p>“It is not your house or lands I want,” exclaimed the +irate Wynne; “but hark ye, old man, Julia shall be +my wife and no other’s; willy-nilly she <i>shall</i> be mine. +I have waited for years, and will not be baulked by this +sallow-faced American loon! Let him have his holiday, +and go as he came, and leave Julia in my hands, or—I +will know the reason why!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was Christmas Eve, and Squire Simmonds had +invited a few of the neighbouring gentry to spend the +evening sociably together under his roof. Wynne had +been invited with the rest, for at Christmastide the +squire could not be at variance with any man; but in +the evening no Wynne appeared. This gave rise to +some little comments among the guests, who good-naturedly +twitted pretty Julia with having two strings +to her bow.</p> + +<p>She blushed and bore it, only looking anxiously now +and again at the face of the old clock at the end of the +dining-room, for it was past the hour when Charley had +promised he would return; for he had gone over to +Dulverton in the morning to fetch the required documents. +He had promised to be back by six o’clock, +and it was now eight, and both Julia and her father +began to exchange glances of alarm.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>At nine o’clock the guests also became anxious, and +Mr. Simmonds tried to persuade both himself and those +present that all was right.</p> + +<p>“You see, it is fifteen miles from here to Dulverton,” +said Mr. Simmonds. “Possibly he did not start till six +o’clock; then he had to make a <i>détour</i>, so as to call at +Stoke Pero and deliver a message to one of Julia’s +friends, and that would make his homeward journey +eighteen or twenty miles, and thirty-five miles there +and back is a longish ride. Besides, his horse, Old +Maggie, is none too good for a long trot over this +hilly country. Fill up, my friends! Here’s to our +future squire, Charles Benwell!”</p> + +<p>He raised the goblet to his lips, but had not commenced +to quaff, when looking towards the door, he +saw the absent Charley advancing toward the table, +looking extremely pale. All in the room rose in +greeting, but he turned from them, and unbuckling the +clasp of his riding-cloak, walked to an alcove, formerly +an immense fire-place, but now used as a closet for +hanging outdoor coats, wraps, and accoutrements, a +curtain being drawn across it.</p> + +<p>To their surprise, every one present noticed, as he +turned, that his deep white collar (which was the fashion +of those days) was saturated with blood, and as they +noted this, and had the words on their lips to speak +to him about it, he disappeared into the alcove by +walking, as it seemed, <i>right through the curtain</i>, and not +drawing it aside in the usual way!</p> + +<p>The assembled guests stood aghast.</p> + +<p>What could it mean?</p> + +<p>For a long time not a man stirred. But at length the +spell was broken by a young fellow named William<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> +Rayner advancing to the curtain sword in hand: he +snatched it suddenly aside.</p> + +<p><i>The recess was empty!</i></p> + +<p>Charles Benwell had apparently vanished through the +solid wall!</p> + +<p>The curtain fell from Rayner’s grasp as he stood +immovable with amazement. Then came another long +pause; a consultation; a replenishment of glasses; and +finally the conclusion was arrived at that it was the +apparition of Julia’s lover they had seen.</p> + +<p>Fear now settled on them all, and as they sat, talking +in hushed tones and glancing nervously about, the curtain +guarding the alcove was seen to move.</p> + +<p>It bulged out slightly as if caught by a draught of +air, and then again its long, sombre folds trailed upon +the floor and were still again.</p> + +<p>No one moved from the spot where he happened to +be sitting or standing, but all eyes were fixed in horror +on the agitated tapestry.</p> + +<p><i>Again it swayed.</i></p> + +<p>This time the bold Will Rayner rose, and drawing his +sword, was joined by some of the others, also sword in +hand. Rapidly they advanced across the intervening +space, and Rayner, plucking hold of the fabric with his +left hand, drew it aside with a quick jerk.</p> + +<p>Wonder of wonders, in place of the white-faced Benwell +there stood his scowling rival, Wynne Clarge.</p> + +<p>His right wrist was bared, and his sword point, which +was advanced towards the spectators, was seen to be +covered with blood.</p> + +<p>As they looked with startled eyes, the blood slowly +dripped to the floor, drip—drip—drip!</p> + +<p>“How now, Master Clarge, think you to frighten us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> +with such tomfoolery?” exclaimed Will Rayner. “Get +thee gone with thy mummery, or my sword shall teach +thee a lesson not to make fools of thy betters.”</p> + +<p>Then, rushing forward, he attempted to beat the sword +out of Wynne’s hand with his own, but to his amazement +no clang of steel sounded as their weapons +met.</p> + +<p>“Here’s at thee, Wynne,” cried the now enraged man; +and suiting the action to the word, he made a deadly +thrust at his opponent’s breast: the blade pierced the +figure without any resistance, and struck the wall so +violently that it was knocked out of his hand and rolled +clattering on the floor.</p> + +<p>At the attack and thrust Wynne looked straight at his +assailant, smiled sardonically, and—<i>slowly melted away</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The guests stayed all night, sleeping where they best +could, at least those whose eyelids had the power to +close; while the more nervous scarce dare move from +the room for fear of encountering one or other of their +ghostly visitors.</p> + +<p>It was useless trying to search the wild country +between Minehead and Dulverton while it was yet dark, +but with the first grey light of a dull morning—Christmas +Day—a party of eight gentlemen rode off in search +of the missing Charles Benwell.</p> + +<p>Through Selworthy they silently rode, and turning to +the left entered the lovely woods of Korner. Hills rose +to a great height on either side of the valley up which +they travelled; hills that seemed to touch—aye, and +really did touch—the low-lying dun-coloured snow-clouds. +There was a rough kind of path, which ran +beside the brook—now swollen to a mountain torrent—but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +at best it was a mere cattle track, and was now +fast becoming obliterated by the silently falling snow.</p> + +<p>The men rode on, scarcely speaking a word; the only +sound that was heard was the roar of the turbulent +torrent as it tore through its rocky bed on its way to +the sea at Porlock.</p> + +<p>Presently they heard a horse neigh, and making at +once towards the sound, quickly found poor Old +Maggie grazing at the foot of Dunkery Beacon near +the village of Stoke Pero.</p> + +<p>The snow was now falling so fast that not the +sharpest eye could perceive the summit of the Beacon, +which towered sixteen hundred feet above them.</p> + +<p>“Coup! coup! Maggie,” coaxingly cried Will Rayner, +and the mare, whinnying, trotted to him. She was still +saddled, and they found, as they feared to find, both +upon the saddle and back, stains of blood.</p> + +<p>“Follow up, friends,” said Will, “as rapidly as +possible, for if I mistake not, our poor friend lies not +far away, and if we make not the best of our way, the +snow may hide from us that which we seek.”</p> + +<p>They accordingly travelled on much quicker, and as +they turned to cross the rustic bridge, at the foot of the +hill from which Stoke Pero looks dreamily down, they +found poor Benwell, lying on his face, dead, frozen stark +and stiff, and partly covered with snow as with a +winding-sheet.</p> + +<p>They dismounted, and examined the murdered man, +discovering to their amazement and horror that he had +been run through the base of the neck from <i>behind</i>, by +some cowardly hand.</p> + +<p>The body was laid over the back of a horse, and +four of the gentlemen returned with it to the Manor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> +House, while Will and the other three friends prosecuted +their search for Wynne Clarge.</p> + +<p>This search, however, was in vain; no signs of him +could be found, and after wandering about in the snow +for a long time they returned to Minehead.</p> + +<p>It was indeed a sad Christmas Day for the good folks +of the Manor House, which instead of being a place of +rejoicing was now a house of the deepest sorrow.</p> + +<p>Poor Julia was inconsolable.</p> + +<p>No papers relating to the property were found on the +body, and this gave some clue to Wynne’s reason for +waylaying the poor young fellow.</p> + +<p>Benwell was buried in the churchyard which lies +high upon the hill, a churchyard surrounded by walls +that look out over the quiet town like the ramparts of +a fortress dominating a city.</p> + +<p>A week later, a great commotion was caused by the +news being brought, that Wynne’s body had been discovered +in the trout pool, which lies nearly hidden +under the great hill near Stoke Pero.</p> + +<p>True it was, and for him too—murderer as well as +murdered—a resting-place was found in the quiet hill-top +churchyard.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The missing papers could not be discovered, although +the woods had been searched in all directions, and as +the unusually cold winter gave place to the genial early +spring, people began to look upon the tragedy as a +thing of the past, and talked no more of it.</p> + +<p>Poor Julia drooped and faded; but with the advent of +the lovely warm May days she revived, and, by and +by, became her own sweet self again; not quite so +tuneful in her songs as of yore, but still her father’s own<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> +little warbling bird, for he delighted in music and in +singing, particularly the songs his daughter sang to him +of an evening.</p> + +<p>Summer came with its flowers, and autumn with its +grain and fruit, and then—then came cold dreary winter +once more.</p> + +<p>Christmas approached, but this year, instead of the +usual jovial party at the Manor House, Julia and her +father accepted an invitation to spend a few days with +the sporting rector of Stoke Pero. They arrived at the +Rectory on the 22nd of December (a Monday), and +were invited to stay over Christmas Day, which was on +the Thursday.</p> + +<p>Julia was not at all in good spirits, and was evidently +thinking of the dreadful Christmas a year ago and her +lost love. She brooded so that, as Christmas Eve approached, +she was positively unable to hide her state +of intense nervousness and melancholy, and at noon on +the 24th she felt herself so unwell that she implored +her father to take her home.</p> + +<p>Mr. Simmonds and the worthy parson took counsel +together, and as Julia appeared in a high state of +nervous excitement bordering on fever, they gave her +a sleeping draught, placing her in the chimney corner +in the Rector’s great arm-chair. There she slept for +three hours, but when she awoke, again implored her +father to take her home, as she felt so ill and did not +wish to give her kind hosts trouble.</p> + +<p>There was no resisting this second appeal, so after a +little delay in getting ready, they mounted their horses, +and with a boy riding a pony and carrying a lantern in +advance, they set off on their journey homeward.</p> + +<p>The snow lay thick on hill and tree, and they made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> +but slow progress. The lantern gave but little light; +it bobbed about hither and thither like an <i>ignis fatuus</i>, +and finally the boy’s pony stumbled, and boy, pony, +and lantern were buried in a deep snow-drift. The +boy scrambled out quickly, but by the squire’s orders +did not light his lantern again. They crossed the +bridge and picked their uncertain way along the snow-covered +path by the torrent’s brink.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the squire drew rein as a man rode quickly +and silently past them, over the snow, going in the same +direction as themselves.</p> + +<p>“How like Old Maggie,” said the squire half aloud; +“and if I did not know to the contrary, I could have +sworn that the rider was poor Benwell!”</p> + +<p>The squire supported Julia with his left arm as she +rode by his side, cheering her as best he could.</p> + +<p>“Who was that, father?” she asked. “How strange +he did not speak as he passed us by.”</p> + +<p>“It was indeed, my dear,” he rejoined; “but probably +he was a stranger, and unaccustomed to our hearty +West Country greetings. But see, he has stopped and +dismounted.”</p> + +<p>They beheld him in the moonlight standing by his +horse’s side, but for some reason the squire’s horse and +his daughter’s both stopped of their own accord, while +the boy’s pony wheeled round and dashed back towards +Stoke.</p> + +<p>The strange horseman patted his steed’s neck, tightened +the saddle-girth, and was about to remount, +when another man suddenly bounded forward, with a +drawn sword, and making a lunge at the unfortunate +traveller, thrust him, from behind, right through the neck.</p> + +<p>Then the murderer searched the dying man, taking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> +a large bundle of papers from the saddle-bags, and +transferring them to his own pockets.</p> + +<p>Turning once more to his victim, who was not dead, +but feebly struggling in the snow to regain his feet, he +again stabbed him, this time clean through the heart. +Then, with a malignant smile he turned away, strode to +his own horse, which was tethered to a tree hard by, +mounted, and in a trice galloped close past the spellbound +onlookers.</p> + +<p>As he galloped silently by, the squire beheld, to his +astonishment, the features of Wynne Clarge!</p> + +<p>Thus was re-enacted, in phantom-vision, the murder +of Charles Benwell, as it took place twelve months before.</p> + +<p>Trembling in every limb Mr. Simmonds turned to his +daughter. But Julia was no more, <i>his arm encircled her +lifeless clay</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>An old man and feeble was John Simmonds, when, two +months after the above events, he left his bed, slowly +recovering from brain fever; but although he was able +occasionally to wander listlessly in his garden in the +warm days of the summer, he lingered only till the first +days of autumn tinged the foliage with gold and red, then +drooped like the flowers, and like the flowers he died.</p> + +<p>By his daughter’s side, upon that hillside in the west, +the old man sleeps, and to this day their tombs are +pointed out; the one known as “the Good Squire’s +Tomb,” and the other is called “Julia’s Grave.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>When the next Christmas Eve came round, bold Will +Rayner organized a little party to watch the spot where +the murder took place. They did not keep their dread +vigil in vain, for a little after darkness set in they all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> +saw the phantom horseman ride up, dismount to tighten +his saddle-girth, and pat his tired horse on the neck. +They saw the dastardly rush of his rival: they saw +the deed enacted before their eyes, as Mr. Simmonds +and Julia had seen it in a marvellous manner, and Will +had difficulty in restraining his comrades from rushing +upon the murderous Wynne, although they knew him +to be but the phantasm of a man.</p> + +<p>Their purpose, however, in watching was to <i>follow</i> the +ghost, and as it mounted its shadowy horse they all +gave chase.</p> + +<p>It was a wild sight to see these young men following +the apparition, who pursued his course through the wild +woods apparently unconscious that he was being followed.</p> + +<p>For three miles he rode, and then drew rein by a low +cliff which overhung the stream. He dismounted, took +the bundle of papers from under his cloak, and hid them +beneath the stump of a tree, whose roots flung themselves +in fantastic shapes from the side of the cliff. Then +he mounted his horse again, with a smile of triumph on +his ghastly face, rode up the precipitous bank, and had +nearly gained the brink, when his horse missed its +footing, rolled over backwards with its rider, and both +disappeared into the turbid water below.</p> + +<p>The ghostly horse quickly emerged and galloped +away, but the shade of Wynne Clarge, its rider, rose no +more.</p> + +<p>A search was made in the low cliff for the missing +documents relating to the Benwell estate, and they were +easily found; but having lain in a damp cavity impregnated +with lime for two years, they fell to pieces as +Rayner grasped them, and all that remained in his hand +was an undecipherable pulp.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CONCLUSION.</h2> +</div> + +<p>The Wise and Foolish Virgins among them carried +ten lamps; and strangely enough, that number coincides +with the number of stories in this volume. In five +lamps no oil was poured, so that the lamps gave forth +no light, but the remaining lamps were well filled and +shed forth light on all around. Such may, I trust, be +the case with my stories; some of them may to my +readers appear dull and uninteresting, but in the remaining +moiety I trust some gleams of pleasure may be +found, which, if not shedding forth the electric rays of a +Poe, may yet give forth enough intellectual light to cause +the writer to be seen and appreciated by the public as +one who has not wholly failed to use his pen to the +pleasure of his indulgent readers.</p> + +<p>Probably my penchant for listening to stories wrung +from unwilling guests is highly reprehensible; but I am +sorry to say that my hobby has quite taken the bit +between its teeth, and, instead of my riding and controlling, +it has mastered me.</p> + +<p>Some of my friends, probably my truest friends, +prophesy, and I must say with some grounds for their +forecasts, that I stand a good chance of seeing the +interior of a gaol—my crime that of divulging the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> +secrets of persons whose brains I have used as a kind +of mental sponge. These good friends regard me as an +ogre, prowling over the country on wheels, and robbing +those to whom I have given sanctuary and shown +hospitality in my humble caravan home.</p> + +<p>Probably they are right; but why in these days of +dearth of original and uncommon stories, should persons +be allowed to carry such interesting narratives about +with them in a dog-in-the-manger style, when by the +exercise of a little ingenuity I am able to obtain their +hoarded narratives, and use them for the public good? +Surely the end justifies the means, from a literary point +of view.</p> + +<p>The hypnotic seizure of tales untold is a simple art, +and if any of my readers (those having secret family +skeletons preferred) will call upon me, I will with +pleasure show them how to hunt for a story. The +hunter and the quarry only are needed; noisy hounds +to worry the poor quarry are not required, the hunter +does it all quietly and effectively by himself, just as that +watchful assassin, the spider, interviews the interesting +and toothsome fly.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<p class="center"><i>Jarrod & Sons, Printers, Norwich, Yarmouth, and London.</i></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76622 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76622-h/images/cover.jpg b/76622-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2b9248 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/76622-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8ece13 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/decoline.jpg b/76622-h/images/decoline.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..efac919 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/decoline.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/decoline2.jpg b/76622-h/images/decoline2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb08d0c --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/decoline2.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/frontispiece.jpg b/76622-h/images/frontispiece.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec449c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/frontispiece.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/i_058a.jpg b/76622-h/images/i_058a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ce72ea --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/i_058a.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/i_090a.jpg b/76622-h/images/i_090a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae69932 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/i_090a.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/i_120a.jpg b/76622-h/images/i_120a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c56e304 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/i_120a.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/i_156a.jpg b/76622-h/images/i_156a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..00e032a --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/i_156a.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/i_214a.jpg b/76622-h/images/i_214a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d70b471 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/i_214a.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/76622-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..266b4ae --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/titlepage.jpg diff --git a/76622-h/images/titlepagedeco.jpg b/76622-h/images/titlepagedeco.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9df9035 --- /dev/null +++ b/76622-h/images/titlepagedeco.jpg |
