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diff --git a/7964-h/7964-h.htm b/7964-h/7964-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..615a953 --- /dev/null +++ b/7964-h/7964-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7922 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mystery of Cloomber, by Arthur Conan Doyle</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: justify; } + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;} +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +div.poetry {text-align:center;} +div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; +display: inline-block; text-align: left;} + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em;} + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mystery of Cloomber, by Arthur Conan Doyle</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Mystery of Cloomber</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Arthur Conan Doyle</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 6, 2003 [eBook #7964]<br /> +[Last updated: July 18, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Lionel G. Sear and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Arthur Conan Doyle</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" cellpadding="4"> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. THE HEGIRA OF THE WESTS FROM EDINBURGH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. OF THE STRANGE MANNER IN WHICH A TENANT CAME TO CLOOMBER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. OF OUR FURTHER ACQUAINTANCE WITH MAJOR-GENERAL J. B.HEATHERSTONE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. OF A YOUNG MAN WITH A GREY HEAD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. HOW FOUR OF US CAME TO BE UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. HOW I CAME TO BE ENLISTED AS ONE OF THE GARRISON OF CLOOMBER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. OF CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AND HIS COMING TO CLOOMBER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING, F.R.C.P.EDIN.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. OF THE LETTER WHICH CAME FROM THE HALL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. OF THE CASTING AWAY OF THE BARQUE “BELINDA”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEN UPON THE COAST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. IN WHICH I SEE THAT WHICH HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTER XIV. OF THE VISITOR WHO RAN DOWN THE ROAD IN THE NIGHT-TIME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. THE DAY-BOOK OF JOHN BERTHIER HEATHERSTONE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="pdd"> <a href="#link2HCH0016">CHAPTER XVI. AT THE HOLE OF CREE</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"></a> +CHAPTER I.<br /> +THE HEGIRA OF THE WESTS FROM EDINBURGH</h2> + +<p> +I, John Fothergill West, student of law in the University of St. Andrews, have +endeavoured in the ensuing pages to lay my statement before the public in a +concise and business-like fashion. +</p> + +<p> +It is not my wish to achieve literary success, nor have I any desire by the +graces of my style, or by the artistic ordering of my incidents, to throw a +deeper shadow over the strange passages of which I shall have to speak. My +highest ambition is that those who know something of the matter should, after +reading my account, be able to conscientiously indorse it without finding a +single paragraph in which I have either added to or detracted from the truth. +</p> + +<p> +Should I attain this result, I shall rest amply satisfied with the outcome of +my first, and probably my last, venture in literature. +</p> + +<p> +It was my intention to write out the sequence of events in due order, depending +on trustworthy hearsay when I was describing that which was beyond my own +personal knowledge. I have now, however, through the kind cooperation of +friends, hit upon a plan which promises to be less onerous to me and more +satisfactory to the reader. This is nothing less than to make use of the +various manuscripts which I have by me bearing upon the subject, and to add to +them the first-hand evidence contributed by those who had the best +opportunities of knowing Major-General J. B. Heatherstone. +</p> + +<p> +In pursuance of this design I shall lay before the public the testimony of +Israel Stakes, formerly coachman at Cloomber Hall, and of John Easterling, +F.R.C.P. Edin., now practising at Stranraer, in Wigtownshire. To these I shall +add a verbatim account extracted from the journal of the late John Berthier +Heatherstone, of the events which occurred in the Thul Valley in the autumn of +'41 towards the end of the first Afghan War, with a description of the skirmish +in the Terada defile, and of the death of the man Ghoolab Shah. +</p> + +<p> +To myself I reserve the duty of filling up all the gaps and chinks which may be +left in the narrative. By this arrangement I have sunk from the position of an +author to that of a compiler, but on the other hand my work has ceased to be a +story and has expanded into a series of affidavits. +</p> + +<p> +My Father, John Hunter West, was a well known Oriental and Sanskrit scholar, +and his name is still of weight with those who are interested in such matters. +He it was who first after Sir William Jones called attention to the great value +of early Persian literature, and his translations from the Hafiz and from +Ferideddin Atar have earned the warmest commendations from the Baron von +Hammer-Purgstall, of Vienna, and other distinguished Continental critics. +</p> + +<p> +In the issue of the <i>Orientalisches Scienzblatt</i> for January, 1861, he is +described as <i>“Der beruhmte und sehr gelhernte Hunter West von +Edinburgh”</i>—a passage which I well remember that he cut out and +stowed away, with a pardonable vanity, among the most revered family archives. +</p> + +<p> +He had been brought up to be a solicitor, or Writer to the Signet, as it is +termed in Scotland, but his learned hobby absorbed so much of his time that he +had little to devote to the pursuit of his profession. +</p> + +<p> +When his clients were seeking him at his chambers in George Street, he was +buried in the recesses of the Advocates' Library, or poring over some mouldy +manuscript at the Philosophical Institution, with his brain more exercised over +the code which Menu propounded six hundred years before the birth of Christ +than over the knotty problems of Scottish law in the nineteenth century. Hence +it can hardly be wondered at that as his learning accumulated his practice +dissolved, until at the very moment when he had attained the zenith of his +celebrity he had also reached the nadir of his fortunes. +</p> + +<p> +There being no chair of Sanscrit in any of his native universities, and no +demand anywhere for the only mental wares which he had to dispose of, we should +have been forced to retire into genteel poverty, consoling ourselves with the +aphorisms and precepts of Firdousi, Omar Khayyam, and others of his Eastern +favourites, had it not been for the kindness and liberality of his half-brother +William Farintosh, the Laird of Branksome, in Wigtownshire. +</p> + +<p> +This William Farintosh was the proprietor of a landed estate, the acreage which +bore, unfortunately, a most disproportional relation to its value, for it +formed the bleakest and most barren tract of land in the whole of a bleak and +barren shire. As a bachelor, however, his expenses had been small, and he had +contrived from the rents of his scattered cottages, and the sale of the +Galloway nags, which he bred upon the moors, not only to live as a laird +should, but to put by a considerable sum in the bank. +</p> + +<p> +We had heard little from our kinsman during the days of our comparative +prosperity, but just as we were at our wit's end, there came a letter like a +ministering angel, giving us assurance of sympathy and succour. In it the Laird +of Branksome told us that one of his lungs had been growing weaker for some +time, and that Dr. Easterling, of Stranraer, had strongly advised him to spend +the few years which were left to him in some more genial climate. He had +determined, therefore to set out for the South of Italy, and he begged that we +should take up our residence at Branksome in his absence, and that my father +should act as his land steward and agent at a salary which placed us above all +fear of want. +</p> + +<p> +Our mother had been dead for some years, so that there were only myself, my +father, and my sister Esther to consult, and it may be readily imagined that it +did not take us long to decide upon the acceptance of the laird's generous +offer. My father started for Wigtown that very night, while Esther and I +followed a few days afterwards, bearing with us two potato-sacksful of learned +books, and such other of our household effects that were worth the trouble and +expense of transport. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"></a> +CHAPTER II.<br /> +OF THE STRANGE MANNER IN WHICH A TENANT CAME TO CLOOMBER</h2> + +<p> +Branksome might have appeared a poor dwelling-place when compared with the +house of an English squire, but to us, after our long residence in stuffy +apartments, it was of regal magnificence. +</p> + +<p> +The building was broad-spread and low, with red-tiled roof, diamond-paned +windows, and a profusion of dwelling rooms with smoke-blackened ceilings and +oaken wainscots. In front was a small lawn, girt round with a thin fringe of +haggard and ill grown beeches, all gnarled and withered from the effects of the +sea-spray. Behind lay the scattered hamlet of Branksome-Bere—a dozen +cottages at most—inhabited by rude fisher-folk who looked upon the laird +as their natural protector. +</p> + +<p> +To the west was the broad, yellow beach and the Irish Sea, while in all other +directions the desolate moors, greyish-green in the foreground and purple in +the distance, stretched away in long, low curves to the horizon. +</p> + +<p> +Very bleak and lonely it was upon this Wigtown coast. A man might walk many a +weary mile and never see a living thing except the white, heavy-flapping +kittiwakes, which screamed and cried to each other with their shrill, sad +voices. +</p> + +<p> +Very lonely and very bleak! Once out of sight of Branksome and there was no +sign of the works of man save only where the high, white tower of Cloomber Hall +shot up, like a headstone of some giant grave, from amid the firs and larches +which girt it round. +</p> + +<p> +This great house, a mile or more from our dwelling, had been built by a wealthy +Glasgow merchant of strange tastes and lonely habits, but at the time of our +arrival it had been untenanted for many years, and stood with weather-blotched +walls and vacant, staring windows looking blankly out over the hill side. +</p> + +<p> +Empty and mildewed, it served only as a landmark to the fishermen, for they had +found by experience that by keeping the laird's chimney and the white tower of +Cloomber in a line they could steer their way through the ugly reef which +raises its jagged back, like that of some sleeping monster, above the troubled +waters of the wind-swept bay. +</p> + +<p> +To this wild spot it was that Fate had brought my father, my sister, and +myself. For us its loneliness had no terrors. After the hubbub and bustle of a +great city, and the weary task of upholding appearances upon a slender income, +there was a grand, soul-soothing serenity in the long sky-line and the eager +air. Here at least there was no neighbour to pry and chatter. +</p> + +<p> +The laird had left his phaeton and two ponies behind him, with the aid of which +my father and I would go the round of the estate doing such light duties as +fall to an agent, or “factor” as it was there called, while our +gentle Esther looked to our household needs, and brightened the dark old +building. +</p> + +<p> +Such was our simple, uneventful existence, until the summer night when an +unlooked-for incident occurred which proved to be the herald of those strange +doings which I have taken up my pen to describe. +</p> + +<p> +It had been my habit to pull out of an evening in the laird's skiff and to +catch a few whiting which might serve for our supper. On this well-remembered +occasion my sister came with me, sitting with her book in the stern-sheets of +the boat, while I hung my lines over the bows. +</p> + +<p> +The sun had sunk down behind the rugged Irish coast, but a long bank of flushed +cloud still marked the spot, and cast a glory upon the waters. The whole broad +ocean was seamed and scarred with crimson streaks. I had risen in the boat, and +was gazing round in delight at the broad panorama of shore and sea and sky, +when my sister plucked at my sleeve with a little, sharp cry of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“See, John,” she cried, “there is a light in Cloomber +Tower!” +</p> + +<p> +I turned my head and stared back at the tall, white turret which peeped out +above the belt of trees. As I gazed I distinctly saw at one of the windows the +glint of a light, which suddenly vanished, and then shone out once more from +another higher up. There it flickered for some time, and finally flashed past +two successive windows underneath before the trees obscured our view of it. It +was clear that some one bearing a lamp or a candle had climbed up the tower +stairs and had then returned into the body of the house. +</p> + +<p> +“Who in the world can it be?” I exclaimed, speaking rather to +myself than to Esther, for I could see by the surprise upon her face that she +had no solution to offer. “Maybe some of the folk from Branksome-Bere +have wanted to look over the place.” +</p> + +<p> +My sister shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“There is not one of them would dare to set foot within the avenue +gates,” she said. “Besides, John, the keys are kept by the +house-agent at Wigtown. Were they ever so curious, none of our people could +find their way in.” +</p> + +<p> +When I reflected upon the massive door and ponderous shutters which guarded the +lower storey of Cloomber, I could not but admit the force of my sister's +objection. The untimely visitor must either have used considerable violence in +order to force his way in, or he must have obtained possession of the keys. +</p> + +<p> +Piqued by the little mystery, I pulled for the beach, with the determination to +see for myself who the intruder might be, and what were his intentions. Leaving +my sister at Branksome, and summoning Seth Jamieson, an old man-o'-war's-man +and one of the stoutest of the fishermen, I set off across the moor with him +through the gathering darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“It hasna a guid name after dark, yon hoose,” remarked my +companion, slackening his pace perceptibly as I explained to him the nature of +our errand. “It's no for naething that him wha owns it wunna gang within +a Scotch mile o't.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Seth, there is some one who has no fears about going into +it,” said I, pointing to the great, white building which flickered up in +front of us through the gloom. +</p> + +<p> +The light which I had observed from the sea was moving backwards and forward +past the lower floor windows, the shutters of which had been removed. I could +now see that a second fainter light followed a few paces behind the other. +Evidently two individuals, the one with a lamp and the other with a candle or +rushlight, were making a careful examination of the building. +</p> + +<p> +“Let ilka man blaw his ain parritch,” said Seth Jamieson doggedly, +coming to a dead stop. “What is it tae us if a wraith or a bogle minds +tae tak' a fancy tae Cloomber? It's no canny tae meddle wi' such things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, man,” I cried, “you don't suppose a wraith came here in +a gig? What are those lights away yonder by the avenue gates?” +</p> + +<p> +“The lamps o' a gig, sure enough!” exclaimed my companion in a less +lugubrious voice. “Let's steer for it, Master West, and speer where she +hails frae.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time night had closed in save for a single long, narrow slit in the +westward. Stumbling across the moor together, we made our way into the Wigtown +Road, at the point where the high stone pillars mark the entrance to the +Cloomber avenue. A tall dog-cart stood in front of the gateway, the horse +browsing upon the thin border of grass which skirted the road. +</p> + +<p> +“It's a' richt!” said Jamieson, taking a close look at the deserted +vehicle. “I ken it weel. It belongs tae Maister McNeil, the factor body +frae Wigtown—him wha keeps the keys.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we may as well have speech with him now that we are here,” I +answered. “They are coming down, if I am not mistaken.” +</p> + +<p> +As I spoke we heard the slam of the heavy door and within a few minutes two +figures, the one tall and angular, the other short and thick came towards us +through the darkness. They were talking so earnestly that they did not observe +us until they had passed through the avenue gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Mr. McNeil,” said I, stepping forward and addressing +the Wigtown factor, with whom I had some slight acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +The smaller of the two turned his face towards me as I spoke, and showed me +that I was not mistaken in his identity, but his taller companion sprang back +and showed every sign of violent agitation. +</p> + +<p> +“What is this, McNeil?” I heard him say, in a gasping, choking +voice. “Is this your promise? What is the meaning of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don't be alarmed, General! Don't be alarmed!” said the little fat +factor in a soothing fashion, as one might speak to a frightened child. +“This is young Mr. Fothergill West, of Branksome, though what brings him +up here tonight is more than I can understand. However, as you are to be +neighbours, I can't do better than take the opportunity to introduce you to +each other. Mr. West, this is General Heatherstone, who is about to take a +lease of Cloomber Hall.” +</p> + +<p> +I held out my hand to the tall man, who took it in a hesitating, half-reluctant +fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“I came up,” I explained, “because I saw your lights in the +windows, and I thought that something might be wrong. I am very glad I did so, +since it has given me the chance of making the general's acquaintance.” +</p> + +<p> +Whilst I was talking, I was conscious that the new tenant of Cloomber Hall was +peering at me very closely through the darkness. As I concluded, he stretched +out a long, tremulous arm, and turned the gig-lamp in such a way as to throw a +flood of light upon my face. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens, McNeil!” he cried, in the same quivering voice as +before, “the fellow's as brown as chocolate. He's not an Englishman. +You're not an Englishman—you, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“I'm a Scotchman, born and bred,” said I, with an inclination to +laugh, which was only checked by my new acquaintance's obvious terror. +</p> + +<p> +“A Scotchman, eh?” said he, with a sigh of relief. “It's all +one nowadays. You must excuse me, Mr.—Mr. West. I'm nervous, infernally +nervous. Come along, McNeil, we must be back in Wigtown in less than an hour. +Good-night, gentlemen, good-night!” +</p> + +<p> +The two clambered into their places; the factor cracked his whip, and the high +dog-cart clattered away through the darkness, casting a brilliant tunnel of +yellow light on either side of it, until the rumble of its wheels died away in +the distance. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of our new neighbour, Jamieson?” I asked, after +a long silence. +</p> + +<p> +“'Deed, Mr. West, he seems, as he says himsel', to be vera nervous. Maybe +his conscience is oot o' order.” +</p> + +<p> +“His liver, more likely,” said I. “He looks as if he had +tried his constitution a bit. But it's blowing chill, Seth, my lad, and it's +time both of us were indoors.” +</p> + +<p> +I bade my companion good-night, and struck off across the moors for the cheery, +ruddy light which marked the parlour windows of Branksome. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></a> +CHAPTER III.<br /> +OF OUR FURTHER ACQUAINTANCE WITH MAJOR-GENERAL J. B. HEATHERSTONE</h2> + +<p> +There was, as may well be imagined, much stir amongst our small community at +the news that the Hall was to be inhabited once more, and considerable +speculation as to the new tenants, and their object in choosing this particular +part of the country for their residence. +</p> + +<p> +It speedily became apparent that, whatever their motives might be, they had +definitely determined upon a lengthy stay, for relays of plumbers and of +joiners came down from Wigtown, and there was hammering and repairing going on +from morning till night. +</p> + +<p> +It was surprising how quickly the signs of the wind and weather were effaced, +until the great, square-set house was all as spick-and-span as though it had +been erected yesterday. There were abundant signs that money was no +consideration to General Heatherstone, and that it was not on the score of +retrenchment that he had taken up his abode among us. +</p> + +<p> +“It may be that he is devoted to study,” suggested my father, as we +discussed the question round the breakfast table. “Perhaps he has chosen +this secluded spot to finish some magnum opus upon which he is engaged. If that +is the case I should be happy to let him have the run of my library.” +</p> + +<p> +Esther and I laughed at the grandiloquent manner in which he spoke of the two +potato-sacksful of books. +</p> + +<p> +“It may be as you say,” said I, “but the general did not +strike me during our short interview as being a man who was likely to have any +very pronounced literary tastes. If I might hazard a guess, I should say that +he is here upon medical advice, in the hope that the complete quiet and fresh +air may restore his shattered nervous system. If you had seen how he glared at +me, and the twitching of his fingers, you would have thought it needed some +restoring.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do wonder whether he has a wife and a family,” said my sister. +“Poor souls, how lonely they will be! Why, excepting ourselves, there is +not a family that they could speak to for seven miles and more.” +</p> + +<p> +“General Heatherstone is a very distinguished soldier,” remarked my +father. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, papa, however came you to know anything about him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, my dears,” said my father, smiling at us over his coffee-cup, +“you were laughing at my library just now, but you see it may be very +useful at times.” As he spoke he took a red-covered volume from a shelf +and turned over the pages. “This is an Indian Army List of three years +back,” he explained, “and here is the very gentleman we +want—'Heatherstone, J. B., Commander of the Bath,' my dears, and 'V.C.', think +of that, 'V.C.'—'formerly colonel in the Indian Infantry, 41st Bengal +Foot, but now retired with the rank of major-general.' In this other column is +a record of his services—'capture of Ghuznee and defence of Jellalabad, +Sobraon 1848, Indian Mutiny and reduction of Oudh. Five times mentioned in +dispatches.' I think, my dears, that we have cause to be proud of our new +neighbour.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn't mention there whether he is married or not, I suppose?” +asked Esther. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said my father, wagging his white head with a keen +appreciation of his own humour. “It doesn't include that under the +heading of 'daring actions'—though it very well might, my dear, it very +well might.” +</p> + +<p> +All our doubts, however, upon this head were very soon set at rest, for on the +very day that the repairing and the furnishing had been completed I had +occasion to ride into Wigtown, and I met upon the way a carriage which was +bearing General Heatherstone and his family to their new home. An elderly lady, +worn and sickly-looking, was by his side, and opposite him sat a young fellow +about my own age and a girl who appeared to be a couple of years younger. +</p> + +<p> +I raised my hat, and was about to pass them, when the general shouted to his +coachman to pull up, and held out his hand to me. I could see now in the +daylight that his face, although harsh and stern, was capable of assuming a not +unkindly expression. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you, Mr. Fothergill West?” he cried. “I must +apologise to you if I was a little brusque the other night—you will +excuse an old soldier who has spent the best part of his life in +harness—All the same, you must confess that you are rather dark-skinned +for a Scotchman.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have a Spanish strain in our blood,” said I, wondering at his +recurrence to the topic. +</p> + +<p> +“That would, of course, account for it,” he remarked. “My +dear,” to his wife, “allow me to introduce Mr. Fothergill West to +you. This is my son and my daughter. We have come here in search of rest, Mr. +West—complete rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you could not possibly have come to a better place,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you think so?” he answered. “I suppose it is very quiet +indeed, and very lonely. You might walk through these country lanes at night, I +dare say, and never meet a soul, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there are not many about after dark,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“And you are not much troubled with vagrants or wandering beggars, eh? +Not many tinkers or tramps or rascally gipsies—no vermin of that sort +about?” +</p> + +<p> +“I find it rather cold,” said Mrs. Heatherstone, drawing her thick +sealskin mantle tighter round her figure. “We are detaining Mr. West, +too.” +</p> + +<p> +“So we are, my dear, so we are. Drive on, coachman. Good-day, Mr. +West.” +</p> + +<p> +The carriage rattled away towards the Hall, and I trotted thoughtfully onwards +to the little country metropolis. +</p> + +<p> +As I passed up the High Street, Mr. McNeil ran out from his office and beckoned +to me to stop. +</p> + +<p> +“Our new tenants have gone out,” he said. “They drove over +this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I met them on the way,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +As I looked down at the little factor, I could see that his face was flushed +and that he bore every appearance of having had an extra glass. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me a real gentleman to do business with,” he said, with a +burst of laughter. “They understand me and I understand them. 'What shall +I fill it up for?' says the general, taking a blank cheque out o' his pouch and +laying it on the table. 'Two hundred,' says I, leaving a bit o' a margin for my +own time and trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought that the landlord had paid you for that,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, aye, but it's well to have a bit margin. He filled it up and threw +it over to me as if it had been an auld postage stamp. That's the way business +should be done between honest men—though it wouldna do if one was +inclined to take an advantage. Will ye not come in, Mr. West, and have a taste +of my whisky?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you,” said I, “I have business to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, business is the chief thing. It's well not to drink in the +morning, too. For my own part, except a drop before breakfast to give me an +appetite, and maybe a glass, or even twa, afterwards to promote digestion, I +never touch spirits before noon. What d'ye think o' the general, Mr. +West?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I have hardly had an opportunity of judging,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. McNeil tapped his forehead with his forefinger. +</p> + +<p> +“That's what I think of him,” he said in a confidential whisper, +shaking his head at me. “He's gone, sir, gone, in my estimation. Now what +would you take to be a proof of madness, Mr. West?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, offering a blank cheque to a Wigtown house-agent,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you're aye at your jokes. But between oorsel's now, if a man asked +ye how many miles it was frae a seaport, and whether ships come there from the +East, and whether there were tramps on the road, and whether it was against the +lease for him to build a high wall round the grounds, what would ye make of it, +eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should certainly think him eccentric,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“If every man had his due, our friend would find himsel' in a house with +a high wall round the grounds, and that without costing him a farthing,” +said the agent. +</p> + +<p> +“Where then?” I asked, humouring his joke. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, in the Wigtown County Lunatic Asylum,” cried the little man, +with a bubble of laughter, in the midst of which I rode on my way, leaving him +still chuckling over his own facetiousness. +</p> + +<p> +The arrival of the new family at Cloomber Hall had no perceptible effect in +relieving the monotony of our secluded district, for instead of entering into +such simple pleasures as the country had to offer, or interesting themselves, +as we had hoped, in our attempts to improve the lot of our poor crofters and +fisherfolk, they seemed to shun all observation, and hardly ever to venture +beyond the avenue gates. +</p> + +<p> +We soon found, too, that the factor's words as to the inclosing of the grounds +were founded upon fact, for gangs of workmen were kept hard at work from early +in the morning until late at night in erecting a high, wooden fence round the +whole estate. +</p> + +<p> +When this was finished and topped with spikes, Cloomber Park became impregnable +to any one but an exceptionally daring climber. It was as if the old soldier +had been so imbued with military ideas that, like my Uncle Toby, he could not +refrain even in times of peace from standing upon the defensive. +</p> + +<p> +Stranger still, he had victualled the house as if for a siege, for Begbie, the +chief grocer of Wigtown, told me himself in a rapture of delight and amazement +that the general had sent him an order for hundreds of dozens of every +imaginable potted meat and vegetable. +</p> + +<p> +It may be imagined that all these unusual incidents were not allowed to pass +without malicious comment. Over the whole countryside and as far away as the +English border there was nothing but gossip about the new tenants of Cloomber +Hall and the reasons which had led them to come among us. +</p> + +<p> +The only hypothesis, however, which the bucolic mind could evolve, was that +which had already occurred to Mr. McNeil, the factor—namely, that the old +general and his family were one and all afflicted with madness, or, as an +alternative conclusion, that he had committed some heinous offence and was +endeavouring to escape the consequences of his misdeeds. +</p> + +<p> +These were both natural suppositions under the circumstances, but neither of +them appeared to me to commend itself as a true explanation of the facts. +</p> + +<p> +It is true that General Heatherstone's behaviour on the occasion of our first +interview was such as to suggest some suspicion of mental disease, but no man +could have been more reasonable or more courteous than he had afterwards shown +himself to be. +</p> + +<p> +Then, again, his wife and children led the same secluded life that he did +himself, so that the reason could not be one peculiar to his own health. +</p> + +<p> +As to the possibility of his being a fugitive from justice, that theory was +even more untenable. Wigtownshire was bleak and lonely, but it was not such an +obscure corner of the world that a well-known soldier could hope to conceal +himself there, nor would a man who feared publicity set every one's tongue +wagging as the general had done. +</p> + +<p> +On the whole, I was inclined to believe that the true solution of the enigma +lay in his own allusion to the love of quiet, and that they had taken shelter +here with an almost morbid craving for solitude and repose. We very soon had an +instance of the great lengths to which this desire for isolation would carry +them. +</p> + +<p> +My father had come down one morning with the weight of a great determination +upon his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“You must put on your pink frock to-day, Esther,” said he, +“and you, John, you must make yourself smart, for I have determined that +the three of us shall drive round this afternoon and pay our respects to Mrs. +Heatherstone and the general.” +</p> + +<p> +“A visit to Cloomber,” cried Esther, clapping her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I am here,” said my father, with dignity, “not only as the +laird's factor, but also as his kinsman. In that capacity I am convinced that +he would wish me to call upon these newcomers and offer them any politeness +which is in our power. At present they must feel lonely and friendless. What +says the great Firdousi? 'The choicest ornaments to a man's house are his +friends.'” +</p> + +<p> +My sister and I knew by experience that when the old man began to justify his +resolution by quotations from the Persian poets there was no chance of shaking +it. Sure enough that afternoon saw the phaeton at the door, with my father +perched upon the seat, with his second-best coat on and a pair of new +driving-gloves. +</p> + +<p> +“Jump in, my dears,” he cried, cracking his whip briskly, “we +shall show the general that he has no cause to be ashamed of his +neighbours.” +</p> + +<p> +Alas! pride always goes before a fall. Our well-fed ponies and shining harness +were not destined that day to impress the tenants of Cloomber with a sense of +our importance. +</p> + +<p> +We had reached the avenue gate, and I was about to get out and open it, when +our attention was arrested by a very large wooden placard, which was attached +to one of the trees in such a manner that no one could possibly pass without +seeing it. On the white surface of this board was printed in big, black letters +the following hospitable inscription: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +GENERAL AND MRS. HEATHERSTONE<br /> +HAVE NO WISH<br /> +TO INCREASE<br /> +THE CIRCLE OF THEIR ACQUAINTANCE. +</p> + +<p> +We all sat gazing at this announcement for some moments in silent astonishment. +Then Esther and I, tickled by the absurdity of the thing, burst out laughing, +but my father pulled the ponies' heads round, and drove home with compressed +lips and the cloud of much wrath upon his brow. I have never seen the good man +so thoroughly moved, and I am convinced that his anger did not arise from any +petty feeling of injured vanity upon his own part, but from the thought that a +slight had been offered to the Laird of Branksome, whose dignity he +represented. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"></a> +CHAPTER IV.<br /> +OF A YOUNG MAN WITH A GREY HEAD</h2> + +<p> +If I had any personal soreness on account of this family snub, it was a very +passing emotion, and one which was soon effaced from my mind. +</p> + +<p> +It chanced that on the very next day after the episode I had occasion to pass +that way, and stopped to have another look at the obnoxious placard. I was +standing staring at it and wondering what could have induced our neighbours to +take such an outrageous step, when I became suddenly aware of a sweet, girlish +face which peeped out at me from between the bars of the gate, and of a white +hand which eagerly beckoned me to approach. As I advanced to her I saw that it +was the same young lady whom I had seen in the carriage. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. West,” she said, in a quick whisper, glancing from side to +side as she spoke in a nervous, hasty manner, “I wish to apologise to you +for the indignity to which you and your family were subjected yesterday. My +brother was in the avenue and saw it all, but he is powerless to interfere. I +assure you, Mr. West, that if that hateful thing,” pointing up at the +placard, “has given you any annoyance, it has given my brother and myself +far more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Miss Heatherstone,” said I, putting the matter off with a +laugh, “Britain is a free country, and if a man chooses to warn off +visitors from his premises there is no reason why he should not.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is nothing less than brutal,” she broke out, with a petulant +stamp of the foot. “To think that your sister, too, should have such an +unprovoked insult offered to her! I am ready to sink with shame at the very +thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray do not give yourself one moment's uneasiness upon the +subject,” said I earnestly, for I was grieved at her evident distress. +“I am sure that your father has some reason unknown to us for taking this +step.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heaven knows he has!” she answered, with ineffable sadness in her +voice, “and yet I think it would be more manly to face a danger than to +fly from it. However, he knows best, and it is impossible for us to judge. But +who is this?” she exclaimed, anxiously, peering up the dark avenue. +“Oh, it is my brother Mordaunt. Mordaunt,” she said, as the young +man approached us, “I have been apologising to Mr. West for what happened +yesterday, in your name as well as my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very, very glad to have the opportunity of doing it in +person,” said he courteously. “I only wish that I could see your +sister and your father as well as yourself, to tell them how sorry I am. I +think you had better run up to the house, little one, for it's getting near +tiffin-time. No—don't you go Mr. West. I want to have a word with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Heatherstone waved her hand to me with a bright smile, and tripped up the +avenue, while her brother unbolted the gate, and, passing through, closed it +again, locking it upon the outside. +</p> + +<p> +“I'll have a stroll down the road with you, if you have no objection. +Have a manilla.” He drew a couple of cheroots from his pocket and handed +one to me. “You'll find they are not bad,” he said. “I became +a connoisseur in tobacco when I was in India. I hope I am not interfering with +your business in coming along with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” I answered, “I am very glad to have your +company.” +</p> + +<p> +“I'll tell you a secret,” said my companion. “This is the +first time that I have been outside the grounds since we have been down +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your sister?” +</p> + +<p> +“She has never been out, either,” he answered. “I have given +the governor the slip to-day, but he wouldn't half like it if he knew. It's a +whim of his that we should keep ourselves entirely to ourselves. At least, some +people would call it a whim, for my own part I have reason to believe that he +has solid grounds for all that he does—though perhaps in this matter he +may be a little too exacting.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must surely find it very lonely,” said I. “Couldn't you +manage to slip down at times and have a smoke with me? That house over yonder +is Branksome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, you are very kind,” he answered, with sparkling eyes. +“I should dearly like to run over now and again. With the exception of +Israel Stakes, our old coachman and gardener, I have not a soul that I can +speak to.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your sister—she must feel it even more,” said I, +thinking in my heart that my new acquaintance made rather too much of his own +troubles and too little of those of his companion. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; poor Gabriel feels it, no doubt,” he answered carelessly, +“but it's a more unnatural thing for a young man of my age to be cooped +up in this way than for a woman. Look at me, now. I am three-and-twenty next +March, and yet I have never been to a university, nor to a school for that +matter. I am as complete an ignoramus as any of these clodhoppers. It seems +strange to you, no doubt, and yet it is so. Now, don't you think I deserve a +better fate?” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped as he spoke, and faced round to me, throwing his palms forward in +appeal. +</p> + +<p> +As I looked at him, with the sun shining upon his face, he certainly did seem a +strange bird to be cooped up in such a cage. Tall and muscular, with a keen, +dark face, and sharp, finely cut features, he might have stepped out of a +canvas of Murillo or Velasquez. There were latent energy and power in his +firm-set mouth, his square eyebrows, and the whole pose of his elastic, +well-knit figure. +</p> + +<p> +“There is the learning to be got from books and the learning to be got +from experience,” said I sententiously. “If you have less of your +share of the one, perhaps you have more of the other. I cannot believe you have +spent all your life in mere idleness and pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pleasure!” he cried. “Pleasure! Look at this!” He +pulled off his hat, and I saw that his black hair was all decked and dashed +with streaks of grey. “Do you imagine that this came from +pleasure?” he asked, with a bitter laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You must have had some great shock,” I said, astonished at the +sight, “some terrible illness in your youth. Or perhaps it arises from a +more chronic cause—a constant gnawing anxiety. I have known men as young +as you whose hair was as grey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor brutes!” he muttered. “I pity them.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you can manage to slip down to Branksome at times,” I said, +“perhaps you could bring Miss Heatherstone with you. I know that my +father and my sister would be delighted to see her, and a change, if only for +an hour or two, might do her good.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be rather hard for us both to get away together,” he +answered. “However, if I see a chance I shall bring her down. It might be +managed some afternoon perhaps, for the old man indulges in a siesta +occasionally.” +</p> + +<p> +We had reached the head of the winding lane which branches off from the high +road and leads to the laird's house, so my companion pulled up. +</p> + +<p> +“I must go back,” he said abruptly, “or they will miss me. +It's very kind of you, West, to take this interest in us. I am very grateful to +you, and so will Gabriel be when she hears of your kind invitation. It's a real +heaping of coals of fire after that infernal placard of my father's.” +</p> + +<p> +He shook my hand and set off down the road, but he came running after me +presently, calling me to stop. +</p> + +<p> +“I was just thinking,” he said, “that you must consider us a +great mystery up there at Cloomber. I dare say you have come to look upon it as +a private lunatic asylum, and I can't blame you. If you are interested in the +matter, I feel it is unfriendly upon my part not to satisfy your curiosity, but +I have promised my father to be silent about it. And indeed if I were to tell +you all that I know you might not be very much the wiser after all. I would +have you understand this, however—that my father is as sane as you or I, +and that he has very good reasons for living the life which he does. I may add +that his wish to remain secluded does not arise from any unworthy or +dishonourable motives, but merely from the instinct of +self-preservation.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is in danger, then?” I ejaculated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; he is in constant danger.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why does he not apply to the magistrates for protection?” I +asked. “If he is afraid of any one, he has only to name him and they will +bind him over to keep the peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear West,” said young Heatherstone, “the danger with +which my father is threatened is one that cannot be averted by any human +intervention. It is none the less very real, and possibly very imminent.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don't mean to assert that it is supernatural,” I said +incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, hardly that, either,” he answered with hesitation. +“There,” he continued, “I have said rather more than I +should, but I know that you will not abuse my confidence. Good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +He took to his heels and was soon out of sight round a curve in the country +road. +</p> + +<p> +A danger which was real and imminent, not to be averted by human means, and yet +hardly supernatural—here was a conundrum indeed! +</p> + +<p> +I had come to look upon the inhabitants of the Hall as mere eccentrics, but +after what young Mordaunt Heatherstone had just told me, I could no longer +doubt that some dark and sinister meaning underlay all their actions. The more +I pondered over the problem, the more unanswerable did it appear, and yet I +could not get the matter out of my thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +The lonely, isolated Hall, and the strange, impending catastrophe which hung +over its inmates, appealed forcibly to my imagination. All that evening, and +late into the night, I sat moodily by the fire, pondering over what I had +heard, and revolving in my mind the various incidents which might furnish me +with some clue to the mystery. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"></a> +CHAPTER V.<br /> +HOW FOUR OF US CAME TO BE UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER</h2> + +<p> +I trust that my readers will not set me down as an inquisitive busybody when I +say that as the days and weeks went by I found my attention and my thoughts +more and more attracted to General Heatherstone and the mystery which +surrounded him. +</p> + +<p> +It was in vain that I endeavoured by hard work and a strict attention to the +laird's affairs to direct my mind into some more healthy channel. Do what I +would, on land or on the water, I would still find myself puzzling over this +one question, until it obtained such a hold upon me that I felt it was useless +for me to attempt to apply myself to anything until I had come to some +satisfactory solution of it. +</p> + +<p> +I could never pass the dark line of five-foot fencing, and the great iron gate, +with its massive lock, without pausing and racking my brain as to what the +secret might be which was shut in by that inscrutable barrier. Yet, with all my +conjectures and all my observations, I could never come to any conclusion which +could for a moment be accepted as an explanation of the facts. +</p> + +<p> +My sister had been out for a stroll one night, visiting a sick peasant or +performing some other of the numerous acts of charity by which she had made +herself beloved by the whole countryside. +</p> + +<p> +“John,” she said when she returned, “have you seen Cloomber +Hall at night?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I answered, laying down the book which I was reading. +“Not since that memorable evening when the general and Mr. McNeil came +over to make an inspection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, John, will you put your hat on and come a little walk with +me?” +</p> + +<p> +I could see by her manner that something had agitated or frightened her. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, bless the girl!” cried I boisterously, “what is the +matter? The old Hall is not on fire, surely? You look as grave as if all +Wigtown were in a blaze.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite so bad as that,” she said, smiling. “But do come +out, Jack. I should very much like you to see it.” +</p> + +<p> +I had always refrained from saying anything which might alarm my sister, so +that she knew nothing of the interest which our neighbours' doings had for me. +At her request I took my hat and followed her out into the darkness. She led +the way along a little footpath over the moor, which brought us to some rising +ground, from which we could look down upon the Hall without our view being +obstructed by any of the fir-trees which had been planted round it. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at that!” said my sister, pausing at the summit of this +little eminence. +</p> + +<p> +Cloomber lay beneath us in a blaze of light. In the lower floors the shutters +obscured the illumination, but above, from the broad windows of the second +storey to the thin slits at the summit of the tower, there was not a chink or +an aperture which did not send forth a stream of radiance. So dazzling was the +effect that for a moment I was persuaded that the house was on fire, but the +steadiness and clearness of the light soon freed me from that apprehension. It +was clearly the result of many lamps placed systematically all over the +building. +</p> + +<p> +It added to the strange effect that all these brilliantly illuminated rooms +were apparently untenanted, and some of them, so far as we could judge, were +not even furnished. Through the whole great house there was no sign of movement +or of life—nothing but the clear, unwinking flood of yellow light. +</p> + +<p> +I was still lost in wonder at the sight when I heard a short, quick sob at my +side. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Esther, dear?” I asked, looking down at my companion. +</p> + +<p> +“I feel so frightened. Oh, John, John, take me home, I feel so +frightened!” +</p> + +<p> +She clung to my arm, and pulled at my coat in a perfect frenzy of fear. +</p> + +<p> +“It's all safe, darling,” I said soothingly. “There is +nothing to fear. What has upset you so?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid of them, John; I am afraid of the Heatherstones. Why is +their house lit up like this every night? I have heard from others that it is +always so. And why does the old man run like a frightened hare if any one comes +upon him. There is something wrong about it, John, and it frightens me.” +</p> + +<p> +I pacified her as well as I could, and led her home with me, where I took care +that she should have some hot port negus before going to bed. I avoided the +subject of the Heatherstones for fear of exciting her, and she did not recur to +it of her own accord. I was convinced, however, from what I had heard from her, +that she had for some time back been making her own observations upon our +neighbours, and that in doing so she had put a considerable strain upon her +nerves. +</p> + +<p> +I could see that the mere fact of the Hall being illuminated at night was not +enough to account for her extreme agitation, and that it must have derived its +importance in her eyes from being one in a chain of incidents, all of which had +left a weird or unpleasant impression upon her mind. +</p> + +<p> +That was the conclusion which I came to at the time, and I have reason to know +now that I was right, and that my sister had even more cause than I had myself +for believing that there was something uncanny about the tenants of Cloomber. +</p> + +<p> +Our interest in the matter may have arisen at first from nothing higher than +curiosity, but events soon took a turn which associated us more closely with +the fortunes of the Heatherstone family. +</p> + +<p> +Mordaunt had taken advantage of my invitation to come down to the laird's +house, and on several occasions he brought with him his beautiful sister. The +four of us would wander over the moors together, or perhaps if the day were +fine set sail upon our little skiff and stand off into the Irish Sea. +</p> + +<p> +On such excursions the brother and sister would be as merry and as happy as two +children. It was a keen pleasure to them to escape from their dull fortress, +and to see, if only for a few hours, friendly and sympathetic faces round them. +</p> + +<p> +There could be but one result when four young people were brought together in +sweet, forbidden intercourse. Acquaintance-ship warmed into friendship, and +friendship flamed suddenly into love. +</p> + +<p> +Gabriel sits beside me now as I write, and she agrees with me that, dear as is +the subject to ourselves, the whole story of our mutual affection is of too +personal a nature to be more than touched upon in this statement. Suffice it to +say that, within a few weeks of our first meeting Mordaunt Heatherstone had won +the heart of my dear sister, and Gabriel had given me that pledge which death +itself will not be able to break. +</p> + +<p> +I have alluded in this brief way to the double tie which sprang up between the +two families, because I have no wish that this narrative should degenerate into +anything approaching to romance, or that I should lose the thread of the facts +which I have set myself to chronicle. These are connected with General +Heatherstone, and only indirectly with my own personal history. +</p> + +<p> +It is enough if I say that after our engagement the visits to Branksome became +more frequent, and that our friends were able sometimes to spend a whole day +with us when business had called the general to Wigtown, or when his gout +confined him to his room. +</p> + +<p> +As to our good father, he was ever ready to greet us with many small jests and +tags of Oriental poems appropriate to the occasion, for we had no secrets from +him, and he already looked upon us all as his children. +</p> + +<p> +There were times when on account of some peculiarly dark or restless fit of the +general's it was impossible for weeks on end for either Gabriel or Mordaunt to +get away from the grounds. The old man would even stand on guard, a gloomy and +silent sentinel, at the avenue gate, or pace up and down the drive as though he +suspected that attempts had been made to penetrate his seclusion. +</p> + +<p> +Passing of an evening I have seen his dark, grim figure flitting about in the +shadow of the trees, or caught a glimpse of his hard, angular, swarthy face +peering out suspiciously at me from behind the bars. +</p> + +<p> +My heart would often sadden for him as I noticed his uncouth, nervous +movements, his furtive glances and twitching features. Who would have believed +that this slinking, cowering creature had once been a dashing officer, who had +fought the battles of his country and had won the palm of bravery among the +host of brave men around him? +</p> + +<p> +In spite of the old soldier's vigilance, we managed to hold communication with +our friends. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately behind the Hall there was a spot where the fencing had been so +carelessly erected that two of the rails could be removed without difficulty, +leaving a broad gap, which gave us the opportunity for many a stolen interview, +though they were necessarily short, for the general's movements were erratic, +and no part of the grounds was secure from his visitations. +</p> + +<p> +How vividly one of these hurried meetings rises before me! It stands out clear, +peaceful, and distinct amid the wild, mysterious incidents which were destined +to lead up to the terrible catastrophe which has cast a shade over our lives. +</p> + +<p> +I can remember that as I walked through the fields the grass was damp with the +rain of the morning, and the air was heavy with the smell of the fresh-turned +earth. Gabriel was waiting for me under the hawthorn tree outside the gap, and +we stood hand-in-hand looking down at the long sweep of moorland and at the +broad blue channel which encircled it with its fringe of foam. +</p> + +<p> +Far away in the north-west the sun glinted upon the high peak of Mount +Throston. From where we stood we could see the smoke of the steamers as they +ploughed along the busy water-way which leads to Belfast. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not magnificent?” Gabriel cried, clasping her hands round my +arm. “Ah, John, why are we not free to sail away over these waves +together, and leave all our troubles behind us on the shore?” +</p> + +<p> +“And what are the troubles which you would leave behind you, dear +one?” I asked. “May I not know them, and help you to bear +them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no secrets from you, John,” she answered. “Our chief +trouble is, as you may guess, our poor father's strange behaviour. Is it not a +sad thing for all of us that a man who has played such a distinguished part in +the world should skulk from one obscure corner of the country to another, and +should defend himself with locks and barriers as though he were a common thief +flying from justice? This is a trouble, John, which it is out of your power to +alleviate.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why does he do it, Gabriel?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot tell,” she answered frankly. “I only know that he +imagines some deadly danger to be hanging over his head, and that this danger +was incurred by him during his stay in India. What its nature may be I have no +more idea than you have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then your brother has,” I remarked. “I am sure from the way +in which he spoke to me about it one day that he knows what it is, and that he +looks upon it as real.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he knows, and so does my mother,” she answered, “but +they have always kept it secret from me. My poor father is very excited at +present. Day and night he is in an agony of apprehension, but it will soon be +the fifth of October, and after that he will be at peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know that?” I asked in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“By experience,” she answered gravely. “On the fifth of +October these fears of his come to a crisis. For years back he has been in the +habit of locking Mordaunt and myself up in our rooms on that date, so that we +have no idea what occurs, but we have always found that he has been much +relieved afterwards, and has continued to be comparatively in peace until that +day begins to draw round again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you have only ten days or so to wait,” I remarked, for +September was drawing to a close. “By the way, dearest, why is it that +you light up all your rooms at night?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have noticed it, then?” she said. “It comes also from my +father's fears. He does not like to have one dark corner in the whole house. He +walks about a good deal at night, and inspects everything, from the attics +right down to the cellars. He has large lamps in every room and corridor, even +the empty ones, and he orders the servants to light them all at dusk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am rather surprised that you manage to keep your servants,” I +said, laughing. “The maids in these parts are a superstitious class, and +their imaginations are easily excited by anything which they don't +understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“The cook and both housemaids are from London, and are used to our ways. +We pay them on a very high scale to make up for any inconvenience to which they +may be put. Israel Stakes, the coachman, is the only one who comes from this +part of the country, and he seems to be a stolid, honest fellow, who is not +easily scared.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little girl,” I exclaimed, looking down at the slim, graceful +figure by my side. “This is no atmosphere for you to live in. Why will +you not let me rescue you from it? Why won't you allow me to go straight and +ask the general for your hand? At the worst he could only refuse.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned quite haggard and pale at the very thought. +</p> + +<p> +“For Heaven's sake, John,” she cried earnestly, “do nothing +of the kind. He would whip us all away in the dead of the night, and within a +week we should be settling down again in some wilderness where we might never +have a chance of seeing or hearing from you again. Besides, he never would +forgive us for venturing out of the grounds.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don't think that he is a hard-hearted man,” I remarked. “I +have seen a kindly look in his eyes, for all his stern face.” +</p> + +<p> +“He can be the kindest of fathers,” she answered. “But he is +terrible when opposed or thwarted. You have never seen him so, and I trust you +never will. It was that strength of will and impatience of opposition which +made him such a splendid officer. I assure you that in India every one thought +a great deal of him. The soldiers were afraid of him, but they would have +followed him anywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“And had he these nervous attacks then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Occasionally, but not nearly so acutely. He seems to think that the +danger—whatever it may be—becomes more imminent every year. Oh, +John, it is terrible to be waiting like this with a sword over our +heads—and all the more terrible to me since I have no idea where the blow +is to come from.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Gabriel,” I said, taking her hand and drawing her to my side, +“look over all this pleasant countryside and the broad blue sea. Is it +not all peaceful and beautiful? In these cottages, with their red-tiled roofs +peeping out from the grey moor, there live none but simple, God-fearing men, +who toil hard at their crafts and bear enmity to no man. Within seven miles of +us is a large town, with every civilised appliance for the preservation of +order. Ten miles farther there is a garrison quartered, and a telegram would at +any time bring down a company of soldiers. Now, I ask you, dear, in the name of +common-sense, what conceivable danger could threaten you in this secluded +neighbourhood, with the means of help so near? You assure me that the peril is +not connected with your father's health?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I am sure of that. It is true that Dr. Easterling, of Stranraer, has +been over to see him once or twice, but that was merely for some small +indisposition. I can assure you that the danger is not to be looked for in that +direction.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I can assure you,” said I, laughing, “that there is no +danger at all. It must be some strange monomania or hallucination. No other +hypothesis will cover the facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would my father's monomania account for the fact of my brother's hair +turning grey and my mother wasting away to a mere shadow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” I answered. “The long continued worry of the +general's restlessness and irritability would produce those effects on +sensitive natures.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no!” said she, shaking her head sadly, “I have been +exposed to his restlessness and irritability, but they have had no such effect +upon me. The difference between us lies in the fact that they know this awful +secret and I do not.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear girl,” said I, “the days of family apparitions and +that kind of thing are gone. Nobody is haunted nowadays, so we can put that +supposition out of the question. Having done so, what remains? There is +absolutely no other theory which could even be suggested. Believe me, the whole +mystery is that the heat of India has been too much for your poor father's +brain.” +</p> + +<p> +What she would have answered I cannot tell, for at that moment she gave a start +as if some sound had fallen upon her ear. As she looked round apprehensively, I +suddenly saw her features become rigid and her eyes fixed and dilated. +</p> + +<p> +Following the direction of her gaze, I felt a sudden thrill of fear pass +through me as I perceived a human face surveying us from behind one of the +trees—a man's face, every feature of which was distorted by the most +malignant hatred and anger. Finding himself observed, he stepped out and +advanced towards us, when I saw that it was none other than the general +himself. His beard was all a-bristle with fury, and his deepset eyes glowed +from under their heavily veined lids with a most sinister and demoniacal +brightness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"></a> +CHAPTER VI.<br /> +HOW I CAME TO BE ENLISTED AS ONE OF THE GARRISON OF CLOOMBER</h2> + +<p> +“To your room, girl!” he cried in a hoarse, harsh voice, stepping +in between us and pointing authoritatively towards the house. +</p> + +<p> +He waited until Gabriel, with a last frightened glance at me, had passed +through the gap, and then he turned upon me with an expression so murderous +that I stepped back a pace or two, and tightened my grasp upon my oak stick. +</p> + +<p> +“You-you—” he spluttered, with his hand twitching at his +throat, as though his fury were choking him. “You have dared to intrude +upon my privacy! Do you think I built this fence that all the vermin in the +country might congregate round it? Oh, you have been very near your death, my +fine fellow! You will never be nearer until your time comes. Look at +this!” He pulled a squat, thick pistol out of his bosom. “If you +had passed through that gap and set foot on my land I'd have let daylight into +you. I'll have no vagabonds here. I know how to treat gentry of that sort, +whether their faces are black or white.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said I, “I meant no harm by coming here, and I do not +know how I have deserved this extraordinary outburst. Allow me to observe, +however, that you are still covering me with your pistol, and that, as your +hand is rather tremulous, it is more than possible that it may go off. If you +don't turn the muzzle down I shall be compelled in self-defence to strike you +over the wrist with my stick.” +</p> + +<p> +“What the deuce brought you here, then?” he asked, in a more +composed voice, putting his weapon back into his bosom. “Can't a +gentleman live quietly without your coming to peep and pry? Have you no +business of your own to look after, eh? And my daughter? how came you to know +anything of her? and what have you been trying to squeeze out of her? It wasn't +chance that brought you here.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said I boldly, “it was not chance which brought me +here. I have had several opportunities of seeing your daughter and of +appreciating her many noble qualities. We are engaged to be married to each +other, and I came up with the express intention of seeing her.” +</p> + +<p> +Instead of blazing into a fury, as I had expected, the general gave a long +whistle of astonishment, and then leant up against the railings, laughing +softly to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“English terriers are fond of nosing worms,” he remarked at last. +“When we brought them out to India they used to trot off into the jungle +and begin sniffing at what they imagined to be worms there. But the worm turned +out to be a venomous snake, and so poor doggy played no more. I think you'll +find yourself in a somewhat analogous position if you don't look out.” +</p> + +<p> +“You surely don't mean to cast an aspersion upon your own +daughter?” I said, flushing with indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Gabriel is all right,” he answered carelessly. “Our +family is not exactly one, however, which I should recommend a young fellow to +marry into. And pray how is it that I was not informed of this snug little +arrangement of yours?” +</p> + +<p> +“We were afraid, sir, that you might separate us,” I replied, +feeling that perfect candour was the best policy under the circumstances. +“It is possible that we were mistaken. Before coming to any final +decision, I implore you to remember that the happiness of both of us is at +stake. It is in your power to divide our bodies, but our souls shall be for +ever united.” +</p> + +<p> +“My good fellow,” said the general, in a not unkindly tone, +“you don't know what you are asking for. There is a gulf between you and +any one of the blood of Heatherstone which can never be bridged over.” +</p> + +<p> +All trace of anger had vanished now from his manner, and given place to an air +of somewhat contemptuous amusement. +</p> + +<p> +My family pride took fire at his words. “The gulf may be less than you +imagine,” I said coldly. “We are not clodhoppers because we live in +this out-of-the-way place. I am of noble descent on one side, and my mother was +a Buchan of Buchan. I assure you that there is no such disparity between us as +you seem to imagine.” +</p> + +<p> +“You misunderstand me,” the general answered. “It is on our +side that the disparity lies. There are reasons why my daughter Gabriel should +live and die single. It would not be to your advantage to marry her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely, sir,” I persisted, “I am the best judge of my +own interests and advantages. Since you take this ground all becomes easy, for +I do assure you that the one interest which overrides all others is that I +should have the woman I love for my wife. If this is your only objection to our +match you may surely give us your consent, for any danger or trial which I may +incur in marrying Gabriel will not weigh with me one featherweight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here's a young bantam!” exclaimed the old soldier, smiling at my +warmth. “It's easy to defy danger when you don't know what the danger +is.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, then?” I asked, hotly. “There is no earthly +peril which will drive me from Gabriel's side. Let me know what it is and test +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no. That would never do,” he answered with a sigh, and then, +thoughtfully, as if speaking his mind aloud: “He has plenty of pluck and +is a well-grown lad, too. We might do worse than make use of him.” +</p> + +<p> +He went on mumbling to himself with a vacant stare in his eyes as if he had +forgotten my presence. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, West,” he said presently. “You'll excuse me if I +spoke hastily a little time ago. It is the second time that I have had occasion +to apologise to you for the same offence. It shan't occur again. I am rather +over-particular, no doubt, in my desire for complete isolation, but I have good +reasons for insisting on the point. Rightly or wrongly, I have got it into my +head that some day there might be an organised raid upon my grounds. If +anything of the sort should occur I suppose I might reckon upon your +assistance?” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“So that if ever you got a message such as 'Come up,' or even 'Cloomber,' +you would know that it was an appeal for help, and would hurry up immediately, +even if it were in the dead of the night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly I should,” I answered. “But might I ask you +what the nature of the danger is which you apprehend?” +</p> + +<p> +“There would be nothing gained by your knowing. Indeed, you would hardly +understand it if I told you. I must bid you good day now, for I have stayed +with you too long. Remember, I count upon you as one of the Cloomber garrison +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“One other thing, sir,” I said hurriedly, for he was turning away, +“I hope that you will not be angry with your daughter for anything which +I have told you. It was for my sake that she kept it all secret from +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” he said, with his cold, inscrutable smile. “I am +not such an ogre in the bosom of my family as you seem to think. As to this +marriage question, I should advise you as a friend to let it drop altogether, +but if that is impossible I must insist that it stand over completely for the +present. It is impossible to say what unexpected turn events may take. +Good-bye.” +</p> + +<p> +He plunged into the wood and was quickly out of sight among the dense +plantation. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended this extraordinary interview, in which this strange man had begun by +pointing a loaded pistol at my breast and had ended, by partially acknowledging +the possibility of my becoming his future son-in-law. I hardly knew whether to +be cast down or elated over it. +</p> + +<p> +On the one hand he was likely, by keeping a closer watch over his daughter, to +prevent us from communicating as freely as we had done hitherto. Against this +there was the advantage of having obtained an implied consent to the renewal of +my suit at some future date. On the whole, I came to the conclusion as I walked +thoughtfully home that I had improved my position by the incident. +</p> + +<p> +But this danger—this shadowy, unspeakable danger—which appeared to +rise up at every turn, and to hang day and night over the towers of Cloomber! +Rack my brain as I would, I could not conjure up any solution to the problem +which was not puerile and inadequate. +</p> + +<p> +One fact struck me as being significant. Both the father and the son had +assured me, independently of each other, that if I were told what the peril +was, I would hardly realise its significance. How strange and bizarre must the +fear be which can scarcely be expressed in intelligible language! +</p> + +<p> +I held up my hand in the darkness before I turned to sleep that night, and I +swore that no power of man or devil should ever weaken my love for the woman +whose pure heart I had had the good fortune to win. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"></a> +CHAPTER VII.<br /> +OF CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AND HIS COMING TO CLOOMBER</h2> + +<p> +In making this statement I have purposely couched it in bald and simple +language, for fear I should be accused of colouring my narrative for the sake +of effect. If, however, I have told my story with any approach to realism, the +reader will understand me when I say that by this time the succession of +dramatic incidents which had occurred had arrested my attention and excited my +imagination to the exclusion of all minor topics. +</p> + +<p> +How could I plod through the dull routine of an agent's work, or interest +myself in the thatch of this tenant's bothy or the sails of that one's boat, +when my mind was taken up by the chain of events which I have described, and +was still busy seeking an explanation for them. +</p> + +<p> +Go where I would over the countryside, I could see the square, white tower +shooting out from among the trees, and beneath that tower this ill-fated family +were watching and waiting, waiting and watching—and for what? That was +still the question which stood like an impassable barrier at the end of every +train of thought. +</p> + +<p> +Regarded merely as an abstract problem, this mystery of the Heatherstone family +had a lurid fascination about it, but when the woman whom I loved a +thousandfold better than I did myself proved to be so deeply interested in the +solution, I felt that it was impossible to turn my thoughts to anything else +until it had been finally cleared up. +</p> + +<p> +My good father had received a letter from the laird, dated from Naples, which +told us that he had derived much benefit from the change, and that he had no +intention of returning to Scotland for some time. This was satisfactory to all +of us, for my father had found Branksome such an excellent place for study that +it would have been a sore trial to him to return to the noise and tumult of a +city. As to my dear sister and myself, there were, as I have shown, stronger +reasons still to make us love the Wigtownshire moors. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of my interview with the general—or perhaps I might say on +account of it—I took occasion at least twice a day to walk towards +Cloomber and satisfy myself that all was well there. He had begun by resenting +my intrusion, but he had ended by taking me into a sort of half-confidence, and +even by asking my assistance, so I felt that I stood upon a different footing +with him than I had done formerly, and that he was less likely to be annoyed by +my presence. Indeed, I met him pacing round the inclosure a few days +afterwards, and his manner towards me was civil, though he made no allusion to +our former conversation. +</p> + +<p> +He appeared to be still in an extreme state of nervousness, starting from time +to time, and gazing furtively about him, with little frightened, darting +glances to the right and the left. I hoped that his daughter was right in +naming the fifth of October as the turning point of his complaint, for it was +evident to me as I looked at his gleaming eyes and quivering hands, that a man +could not live long in such a state of nervous tension. +</p> + +<p> +I found on examination that he had had the loose rails securely fastened so as +to block up our former trysting-place, and though I prowled round the whole +long line of fencing, I was unable to find any other place where an entrance +could be effected. +</p> + +<p> +Here and there between the few chinks left in the barrier I could catch +glimpses of the Hall, and once I saw a rough-looking, middle-aged man standing +at a window on the lower floor, whom I supposed to be Israel Stakes, the +coachman. There was no sign, however, of Gabriel or of Mordaunt, and their +absence alarmed me. I was convinced that, unless they were under some +restraint, they would have managed to communicate with my sister or myself. My +fears became more and more acute as day followed day without our seeing or +hearing anything of them. +</p> + +<p> +One morning—it was the second day of October—I was walking towards +the Hall, hoping that I might be fortunate enough to learn some news of my +darling, when I observed a man perched upon a stone at the side of the road. +</p> + +<p> +As I came nearer to him I could see that he was a stranger, and from his dusty +clothes and dilapidated appearance he seemed to have come from a distance. He +had a great hunk of bread on his knee and a clasp-knife in his hand, but he +had apparently just finished his breakfast, for he brushed the crumbs off his +lap and rose to his feet when he perceived me. +</p> + +<p> +Noticing the great height of the fellow and that he still held his weapon, I +kept well to the other side of the road, for I knew that destitution makes men +desperate and that the chain that glittered on my waistcoat might be too great +a temptation to him upon this lonely highway. I was confirmed in my fears when +I saw him step out into the centre of the road and bar my progress. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my lad,” I said, affecting an ease which I by no means felt, +“what can I do for you this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +The fellow's face was the colour of mahogany with exposure to the weather, and +he had a deep scar from the corner of his mouth to his ear, which by no means +improved his appearance. His hair was grizzled, but his figure was stalwart, +and his fur cap was cocked on one side so as to give him a rakish, +semi-military appearance. Altogether he gave me the impression of being one of +the most dangerous types of tramp that I had ever fallen in with. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of replying to my question, he eyed me for some time in silence with +sullen, yellow-shot eyes, and then closed his knife with a loud snick. +</p> + +<p> +“You're not a beak,” he said, “too young for that, I guess. +They had me in chokey at Paisley and they had me in chokey at Wigtown, but by +the living thunder if another of them lays a hand on me I'll make him remember +Corporal Rufus Smith! It's a darned fine country this, where they won't give a +man work, and then lay him by the heels for having no visible means of +subsistence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to see an old soldier so reduced,” said I. “What +corps did you serve in?” +</p> + +<p> +“H Battery, Royal Horse Artillery. Bad cess to the Service and every one +in it! Here I am nigh sixty years of age, with a beggarly pension of +thirty-eight pound ten—not enough to keep me in beer and baccy.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have thought thirty-eight pound ten a year would have been a +nice help to you in your old age,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you, though?” he answered with a sneer, pushing his +weather-beaten face forward until it was within a foot of my own. +</p> + +<p> +“How much d'ye think that slash with a tulwar is worth? And my foot with +all the bones rattling about like a bagful of dice where the trail of the gun +went across it. What's that worth, eh? And a liver like a sponge, and ague +whenever the wind comes round to the east—what's the market value of +that? Would you take the lot for a dirty forty pound a year—would you +now?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are poor folk in this part of the country,” I answered. +“You would pass for a rich man down here.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are fool folk and they have fool tastes,” said he, drawing a +black pipe from his pocket and stuffing it with tobacco. “I know what +good living is, and, by cripes! while I have a shilling in my pocket I like to +spend it as a shilling should be spent. I've fought for my country and my +country has done darned little for me. I'll go to the Rooshians, so help me! I +could show them how to cross the Himalayas so that it would puzzle either +Afghans or British to stop 'em. What's that secret worth in St. Petersburg, eh, +mister?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am ashamed to hear an old soldier speak so, even in jest,” said +I sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“Jest, indeed!” he cried, with a great, roaring oath. “I'd +have done it years ago if the Rooshians had been game to take it up. Skobeloff +was the best of the bunch, but he's been snuffed out. However, that's neither +here nor there. What I want to ask you is whether you've ever heard anything in +this quarter of a man called Heatherstone, the same who used to be colonel of +the 41st Bengalis? They told me at Wigtown that he lived somewhere down this +way.” +</p> + +<p> +“He lives in that large house over yonder,” said I, pointing to +Cloomber Tower. “You'll find the avenue gate a little way down the road, +but the general isn't over fond of visitors.” +</p> + +<p> +The last part of my speech was lost upon Corporal Rufus Smith; for the instant +that I pointed out the gate he set off hopping down the road. +</p> + +<p> +His mode of progression was the most singular I have ever seen, for he would +only put his right foot to the ground once in every half-dozen strides, while +he worked so hard and attained such a momentum with the other limb that he got +over the ground at an astonishing speed. +</p> + +<p> +I was so surprised that I stood in the roadway gazing after this hulking figure +until the thought suddenly struck me that some serious result might come from a +meeting between a man of such blunt speech and the choleric, hot-headed +general. I therefore followed him as he hopped along like some great, clumsy +bird, and overtook him at the avenue gate, where he stood grasping the ironwork +and peering through at the dark carriage-drive beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“He's a sly old jackal,” he said, looking round at me and nodding +his head in the direction of the Hall. “He's a deep old dog. And that's +his bungalow, is it, among the trees?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is his house,” I answered; “but I should advise you to +keep a more civil tongue in your head if you intend to speak with the general. +He is not a man to stand any nonsense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are. He was always a hard nut to crack. But isn't this him +coming down the avenue?” +</p> + +<p> +I looked through the gate and saw that it was indeed the general, who, having +either seen us or been attracted by our voices, was hurrying down towards us. +As he advanced he would stop from time to time and peer at us through the dark +shadow thrown by the trees, as if he were irresolute whether to come on or no. +</p> + +<p> +“He's reconnoitering!” whispered my companion with a hoarse +chuckle. “He's afraid—and I know what he's afraid of. He won't be +caught in a trap if he can help it, the old 'un. He's about as fly as they make +'em, you bet!” +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly standing on his tip-toes and waving his hand through the bars of +the gate, he shouted at the top of his voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Come on, my gallant commandant! Come on! The coast's clear, and no enemy +in sight.” +</p> + +<p> +This familiar address had the effect of reassuring the general, for he came +right for us, though I could tell by his heightened colour that his temper was +at boiling point. +</p> + +<p> +“What, you here, Mr. West?” he said, as his eye fell upon me. +“What is it you want, and why have you brought this fellow with +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not brought him with me, sir,” I answered, feeling rather +disgusted at being made responsible for the presence of the +disreputable-looking vagabond beside me. “I found him on the road here, +and he desired to be directed to you, so I showed him the way. I know nothing +of him myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want with me, then?” the general asked sternly, +turning to my companion. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, sir,” said the ex-corporal, speaking in a whining +voice, and touching his moleskin cap with a humility which contrasted strangely +with the previous rough independence of his bearing, “I'm an old gunner +in the Queen's service, sir, and knowing your name by hearing it in India I +thought that maybe you would take me as your groom or gardener, or give me any +other place as happened to be vacant.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry that I cannot do anything for you, my man,” the old +soldier answered impressively. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you'll give me a little just to help me on my way, sir,” said +the cringing mendicant. “You won't see an old comrade go to the bad for +the sake of a few rupees? I was with Sale's brigade in the Passes, sir, and I +was at the second taking of Cabul.” +</p> + +<p> +General Heatherstone looked keenly at the supplicant, but was silent to his +appeal. +</p> + +<p> +“I was in Ghuznee with you when the walls were all shook down by an +earthquake, and when we found forty thousand Afghans within gunshot of us. You +ask me about it, and you'll see whether I'm lying or not. We went through all +this when we were young, and now that we are old you are to live in a fine +bungalow, and I am to starve by the roadside. It don't seem to me to be +fair.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are an impertinent scoundrel,” said the general. “If you +had been a good soldier you would never need to ask for help. I shall not give +you a farthing.” +</p> + +<p> +“One word more, sir,” cried the tramp, for the other was turning +away, “I've been in the Tarada Pass.” +</p> + +<p> +The old soldier sprang round as if the words had been a pistol-shot. +</p> + +<p> +“What—what d'ye mean?” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“I've been in the Tarada Pass, sir, and I knew a man there called Ghoolab +Shah.” +</p> + +<p> +These last were hissed out in an undertone, and a malicious grin overspread the +face of the speaker. +</p> + +<p> +Their effect upon the general was extraordinary. He fairly staggered back from +the gateway, and his yellow countenance blanched to a livid, mottled grey. For +a moment he was too overcome to speak. At last he gasped out: +</p> + +<p> +“Ghoolab Shah? Who are you who know Ghoolab Shah?” +</p> + +<p> +“Take another look,” said the tramp, “your sight is not as +keen as it was forty years ago.” +</p> + +<p> +The general took a long, earnest look at the unkempt wanderer in front of him, +and as he gazed I saw the light of recognition spring up in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“God bless my soul!” he cried. “Why, it's Corporal Rufus +Smith.” +</p> + +<p> +“You've come on it at last,” said the other, chuckling to himself. +“I was wondering how long it would be before you knew me. And, first of +all, just unlock this gate, will you? It's hard to talk through a grating. It's +too much like ten minutes with a visitor in the cells.” +</p> + +<p> +The general, whose face still bore evidences of his agitation, undid the bolts +with nervous, trembling fingers. The recognition of Corporal Rufus Smith had, I +fancied, been a relief to him, and yet he plainly showed by his manner that he +regarded his presence as by no means an unmixed blessing. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Corporal,” he said, as the gate swung open, “I have +often wondered whether you were dead or alive, but I never expected to see you +again. How have you been all these long years?” +</p> + +<p> +“How have I been?” the corporal answered gruffly. “Why, I +have been drunk for the most part. When I draw my money I lay it out in liquor, +and as long as that lasts I get some peace in life. When I'm cleaned out I go +upon tramp, partly in the hope of picking up the price of a dram, and partly in +order to look for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You'll excuse us talking about these private matters, West,” the +general said, looking round at me, for I was beginning to move away. +“Don't leave us. You know something of this matter already, and may find +yourself entirely in the swim with us some of these days.” +</p> + +<p> +Corporal Rufus Smith looked round at me in blank astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“In the swim with us?” he said. “However did he get +there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Voluntarily, voluntarily,” the general explained, hurriedly +sinking his voice. “He is a neighbour of mine, and he has volunteered his +help in case I should ever need it.” +</p> + +<p> +This explanation seemed, if anything, to increase the big stranger's surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if that don't lick cock-fighting!” he exclaimed, +contemplating me with admiration. “I never heard tell of such a +thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And now you have found me, Corporal Smith,” said the tenant of +Cloomber, “what is it that you want of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, everything. I want a roof to cover me, and clothes to wear, and +food to eat, and, above all, brandy to drink.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I'll take you in and do what I can for you,” said the +general slowly. “But look here, Smith, we must have discipline. I'm the +general and you are the corporal; I am the master and you are the man. Now, +don't let me have to remind you of that again.” +</p> + +<p> +The tramp drew himself up to his full height and raised his right hand with the +palm forward in a military salute. +</p> + +<p> +“I can take you on as gardener and get rid of the fellow I have got. As +to brandy, you shall have an allowance and no more. We are not deep drinkers at +the Hall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don't you take opium, or brandy, or nothing yourself, sir?” asked +Corporal Rufus Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” the general said firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all I can say is, that you've got more nerve and pluck than I +shall ever have. I don't wonder now at your winning that Cross in the Mutiny. +If I was to go on listening night after night to them things without ever +taking a drop of something to cheer my heart—why, it would drive me +silly.” +</p> + +<p> +General Heatherstone put his hand up, as though afraid that his companion might +say too much. +</p> + +<p> +“I must thank you, Mr. West,” he said, “for having shown this +man my door. I would not willingly allow an old comrade, however humble, to go +to the bad, and if I did not acknowledge his claim more readily it was simply +because I had my doubts as to whether he was really what he represented himself +to be. Just walk up to the Hall, Corporal, and I shall follow you in a +minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor fellow!” he continued, as he watched the newcomer hobbling up +the avenue in the ungainly manner which I have described. “He got a gun +over his foot, and it crushed the bones, but the obstinate fool would not let +the doctors take it off. I remember him now as a smart young soldier in +Afghanistan. He and I were associated in some queer adventures, which I may +tell you of some day, and I naturally feel sympathy towards him, and would +befriend him. Did he tell you anything about me before I came?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a word,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said the general carelessly, but with an evident expression +of relief, “I thought perhaps he might have said something of old times. +Well, I must go and look after him, or the servants will be frightened, for he +isn't a beauty to look at. Good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +With a wave of the hand the old man turned away from me and hurried up the +drive after this unexpected addition to his household, while I strolled on +round the high, black paling, peering through every chink between the planks, +but without seeing a trace either of Mordaunt or of his sister. +</p> + +<p> +I have now brought this statement down to the coming of Corporal Rufus Smith, +which will prove to be the beginning of the end. +</p> + +<p> +I have set down soberly and in order the events which brought us to +Wigtownshire, the arrival of the Heatherstones at Cloomber, the many strange +incidents which excited first our curiosity and finally our intense interest in +that family, and I have briefly touched upon the circumstances which brought my +sister and myself into a closer and more personal relationship with them. I +think that there cannot be a better moment than this to hand the narrative over +to those who had means of knowing something of what was going on inside +Cloomber during the months that I was observing it from without. +</p> + +<p> +Israel Stakes, the coachman, proved to be unable to read or write, but Mr. +Mathew Clark, the Presbyterian Minister of Stoneykirk, has copied down his +deposition, duly attested by the cross set opposite to his name. The good +clergyman has, I fancy, put some slight polish upon the narrator's story, which +I rather regret, as it might have been more interesting, if less intelligible, +when reported verbatim. It still preserves, however, considerable traces of +Israel's individuality, and may be regarded as an exact record of what he saw +and did while in General Heatherstone's service. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"></a> +CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES</h2> + +<p> +(Copied and authenticated by the Reverend Mathew Clark, Presbyterian Minister +of Stoneykirk, in Wigtownshire) +</p> + +<p> +Maister Fothergill West and the meenister say that I maun tell all I can aboot +General Heatherstone and his hoose, but that I maunna say muckle aboot mysel' +because the readers wouldna care to hear aboot me or my affairs. I am na sae +sure o' that, for the Stakes is a family weel kenned and respecked on baith +sides o' the Border, and there's mony in Nithsdale and Annandale as would be +gey pleased to hear news o' the son o' Archie Stakes, o' Ecclefechan. +</p> + +<p> +I maun e'en do as I'm tauld, however, for Mr. West's sake, hoping he'll no +forget me when I chance to hae a favour tae ask.(<a href="#ft_1">1</a>) I'm no able tae write +mysel' because my feyther sent me oot to scare craws instead o' sendin' me tae +school, but on the ither hond he brought me up in the preenciples and practice +o' the real kirk o' the Covenant, for which may the Lord be praised! +</p> + +<p> +It way last May twel'month that the factor body, Maister McNeil, cam ower tae +me in the street and speered whether I was in want o' a place as a coachman and +gairdner. As it fell oot I chanced tae be on the look oot for something o' the +sort mysel' at the time, but I wasna ower quick to let him see that I wanted +it. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye can tak it or leave it,” says he sharp like. “It's a guid +place, and there's mony would be glad o't. If ye want it ye can come up tae my +office at twa the morn and put your ain questions tae the gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +That was a' I could get frae him, for he's a close man and a hard one at a +bargain—which shall profit him leetle in the next life, though he lay by +a store o' siller in this. When the day comes there'll be a hantle o' factors +on the left hand o' the throne, and I shouldna be surprised if Maister McNeil +found himsel' amang them. +</p> + +<p> +Weel, on the morn I gaed up to the office and there I foond the factor and a +lang, thin, dour man wi' grey hair and a face as brown and crinkled as a +walnut. He looked hard at me wi' a pair o' een that glowed like twa spunks, and +then he says, says he: +</p> + +<p> +“You've been born in these pairts, I understan'?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” says I, “and never left them neither.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never been oot o' Scotland?” he speers. +</p> + +<p> +“Twice to Carlisle fair,” says I, for I am a man wha loves the +truth; and besides I kenned that the factor would mind my gaeing there, for I +bargained fur twa steers and a stirk that he wanted for the stockin' o' the +Drumleugh Fairm. +</p> + +<p> +“I learn frae Maister McNeil,” says General Heatherstone—for +him it was and nane ither—“that ye canna write.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor read?” +</p> + +<p> +“Na,” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems tae me,” says he, turnin' tae the factor, “that +this is the vera man I want. Servants is spoilt noo-a-days,” says he, +“by ower muckle eddication. I hae nae doobt, Stakes, that ye will suit me +well enough. Ye'll hae three pund a month and a' foond, but I shall resairve +the right o' givin' ye twenty-four hoors' notice at any time. How will that +suit ye?” +</p> + +<p> +“It's vera different frae my last place,” says I, +discontented-like. +</p> + +<p> +And the words were true enough, for auld Fairmer Scott only gave me a pund a +month and parritch twice a day. +</p> + +<p> +“Weel, weel,” says he, “maybe we'll gie ye a rise if ye suit. +Meanwhile here's the han'sel shillin' that Maister McNeil tells me it's the +custom tae give, and I shall expec' tae see ye at Cloomber on Monday.” +</p> + +<p> +When the Monday cam roond I walked oot tae Cloomber, and a great muckle hoose +it is, wi' a hunderd windows or mair, and space enough tae hide awa' half the +parish. +</p> + +<p> +As tae gairdening, there was no gairden for me tae work at, and the horse was +never taken oot o' the stables frae week's end tae week's end. I was busy +enough for a' that, for there was a deal o' fencing tae be put up, and one +thing or anither, forbye cleanin' the knives and brushin' the boots and +such-like jobs as is mair fit for an auld wife than for a grown man. +</p> + +<p> +There was twa besides mysel' in the kitchen, the cook Eliza, and Mary the +hoosemaid, puir, benighted beings baith o' them, wha had wasted a' their lives +in London, and kenned leetle aboot the warld or the ways o' the flesh. +</p> + +<p> +I hadna muckle tae say to them, for they were simple folk who could scarce +understand English, and had hardly mair regard for their ain souls than the +tods on the moor. When the cook said she didna think muckle o' John Knox, and +the ither that she wouldna give saxpence tae hear the discourse o' Maister +Donald McSnaw o' the true kirk, I kenned it was time for me tae leave them tae +a higher Judge. +</p> + +<p> +There was four in family, the general, my leddy, Maister Mordaunt, and Miss +Gabriel, and it wasna long before I found that a' wasna just exactly as it +should be. My leddy was as thin and as white as a ghaist, and many's the time +as I've come on her and found her yammerin' and greetin' all by hersel'. I've +watched her walkin' up and doon in the wood where she thought nane could see +her and wringin' her honds like one demented. +</p> + +<p> +There was the young gentleman, tae, and his sister—they baith seemed to +hae some trouble on their minds, and the general maist of a', for the ithers +were up ane day and down anither; but he was aye the same, wi' a face as dour +and sad as a felon when he feels the tow roond his neck. +</p> + +<p> +I speered o' the hussies in the kitchen whether they kenned what was amiss wi' +the family, but the cook she answered me back that it wasna for her tae inquire +into the affairs o' her superiors, and that it was naething to her as long as +she did her work and had her wages. They were puir, feckless bodies, the twa o' +them, and would scarce gie an answer tae a ceevil question, though they could +clack lood eneugh when they had a mind. +</p> + +<p> +Weel, weeks passed into months and a' things grew waur instead o' better in the +Hall. The general he got mair nairvous, and his leddy mair melancholy every +day, and yet there wasna any quarrel or bickering between them, for when +they've been togither in the breakfast room I used often tae gang round and +prune the rose-tree alongside o' the window, so that I couldna help hearin' a +great pairt o' their conversation, though sair against the grain. +</p> + +<p> +When the young folk were wi' them they would speak little, but when they had +gone they would aye talk as if some waefu' trial ere aboot to fa' upon them, +though I could never gather from their words what it was that they were afeared +o'. +</p> + +<p> +I've heard the general say mair than ance that he wasna frighted o' death, or +any danger that he could face and have done wi', but that it was the lang, +weary waitin' and the uncertainty that had taken a' the strength and the mettle +oot o' him. Then my leddy would console him and tell him that maybe it wasna as +bad as he thocht, and that a' would come richt in the end—but a' her +cheery words were clean throwed away upon him. +</p> + +<p> +As tae the young folks, I kenned weel that they didna bide in the groonds, and +that they were awa' whenever they got a chance wi' Maister Fothergill West tae +Branksome, but the general was too fu' o' his ain troubles tae ken aboot it, +and it didna seem tae me that it was pairt o' my duties either as coachman or +as gairdner tae mind the bairns. He should have lairnt that if ye forbid a +lassie and a laddie to dae anything it's just the surest way o' bringin' it +aboot. The Lord foond that oot in the gairden o' Paradise, and there's no +muckle change between the folk in Eden and the folk in Wigtown. +</p> + +<p> +There's ane thing that I havena spoke aboot yet, but that should be set doon. +</p> + +<p> +The general didna share his room wi' his wife, but slept a' alane in a chamber +at the far end o' the hoose, as distant as possible frae every one else. This +room was aye lockit when he wasna in it, and naebody was ever allowed tae gang +into it. He would mak' his ain bed, and red it up and dust it a' by himsel', +but he wouldna so much as allow one o' us to set fut on the passage that led +tae it. +</p> + +<p> +At nicht he would walk a' ower the hoose, and he had lamps hung in every room +and corner, so that no pairt should be dark. +</p> + +<p> +Many's the time frae my room in the garret I've heard his futsteps comin' and +gangin', comin' and gangin' doon one passage and up anither frae midnight till +cockcraw. It was weary wark to lie listenin' tae his clatter and wonderin' +whether he was clean daft, or whether maybe he'd lairnt pagan and idolatrous +tricks oot in India, and that his conscience noo was like the worm which +gnaweth and dieth not. I'd ha' speered frae him whether it wouldna ease him to +speak wi' the holy Donald McSnaw, but it might ha' been a mistake, and the +general wasna a man that you'd care tae mak' a mistake wi'. +</p> + +<p> +Ane day I was workin' at the grass border when he comes up and he says, says +he: +</p> + +<p> +“Did ye ever have occasion tae fire a pistol, Israel?” +</p> + +<p> +“Godsakes!” says I, “I never had siccan a thing in my honds +in my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you'd best not begin noo,” says he. “Every man tae his +ain weepon,” he says. “Now I warrant ye could do something wi' a +guid crab-tree cudgel!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, could I,” I answered blithely, “as well as ony lad on +the Border.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is a lonely hoose,” says he, “and we might be molested +by some rascals. It's weel tae be ready for whatever may come. Me and you and +my son Mordaunt and Mr. Fothergill West of Branksome, who would come if he was +required, ought tae be able tae show a bauld face—what think ye?” +</p> + +<p> +“'Deed, sir,” I says, “feastin' is aye better than +fechtin'—but if ye'll raise me a pund a month, I'll no' shirk my share o' +either.” +</p> + +<p> +“We won't quarrel ower that,” says he, and agreed tae the extra +twal' pund a year as easy as though it were as many bawbees. Far be it frae me +tae think evil, but I couldna help surmisin' at the time that money that was so +lightly pairted wi' was maybe no' so very honestly cam by. +</p> + +<p> +I'm no' a curious or a pryin' mun by nature, but I was sair puzzled in my ain +mind tae tell why it was that the general walked aboot at nicht and what kept +him frae his sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Weel, ane day I was cleanin' doon the passages when my e'e fell on a great +muckle heap o' curtains and auld cairpets and sic' like things that were piled +away in a corner, no vera far frae the door o' the general's room. A' o' a +sudden a thocht came intae my heid and I says tae mysel': +</p> + +<p> +“Israel, laddie,” says I, “what's tae stop ye frae hidin' +behind that this vera nicht and seein' the auld mun when he doesna ken human +e'e is on him?” +</p> + +<p> +The mair I thocht o't the mair seemple it appeared, and I made up my mind tae +put the idea intae instant execution. +</p> + +<p> +When the nicht cam roond I tauld the women-folk that I was bad wi' the jawache, +and would gang airly tae my room. I kenned fine when ance I got there that +there was na chance o' ony ane disturbin' me, so I waited a wee while, and then +when a' was quiet, I slippit aff my boots and ran doon the ither stair until I +cam tae the heap o' auld clothes, and there I lay doon wi' ane e'e peepin' +through a kink and a' the rest covered up wi' a great, ragged cairpet. +</p> + +<p> +There I bided as quiet as a mouse until the general passed me on his road tae +bed, and a' was still in the hoose. +</p> + +<p> +My certie! I wouldna gang through wi' it again for a' the siller at the Union +Bank of Dumfries, I canna think o't noo withoot feelin' cauld a' the way doon +my back. +</p> + +<p> +It was just awfu' lyin' there in the deid silence, waitin' and waitin' wi' +never a soond tae break the monotony, except the heavy tickin' o' an auld clock +somewhere doon the passage. +</p> + +<p> +First I would look doon the corridor in the one way, and syne I'd look doon in +t'ither, but it aye seemed to me as though there was something coming up frae +the side that I wasna lookin' at. I had a cauld sweat on my broo, and my hairt +was beatin' twice tae ilka tick o' the clock, and what feared me most of a' was +that the dust frae the curtains and things was aye gettin' doon intae my lungs, +and it was a' I could dae tae keep mysel' frae coughin'. +</p> + +<p> +Godsakes! I wonder my hair wasna grey wi' a' that I went through. I wouldna dae +it again to be made Lord Provost o' Glasgie. +</p> + +<p> +Weel, it may have been twa o'clock in the mornin' or maybe a little mair, and I +was just thinkin' that I wasna tae see onything after a'—and I wasna very +sorry neither—when all o' a sudden a soond cam tae my ears clear and +distinct through the stillness o' the nicht. +</p> + +<p> +I've been asked afore noo tae describe that soond, but I've aye foond that it's +no' vera easy tae gie a clear idea o't, though it was unlike any other soond +that ever I hearkened tae. It was a shairp, ringin' clang, like what could be +caused by flippin' the rim o' a wineglass, but it was far higher and thinner +than that, and had in it, tae, a kind o' splash, like the tinkle o' a rain-drop +intae a water-butt. +</p> + +<p> +In my fear I sat up amang my cairpets, like a puddock among gowan-leaves, and I +listened wi' a' my ears. A' was still again noo, except for the dull tickin' o' +the distant clock. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the soond cam again, as clear, as shrill, as shairp as ever, and this +time the general heard it, for I heard him gie a kind o' groan, as a tired man +might wha has been roosed oot o' his sleep. +</p> + +<p> +He got up frae his bed, and I could make oot a rustling noise, as though he +were dressin' himsel', and presently his footfa' as he began tae walk up and +doon in his room. +</p> + +<p> +Mysakes! it didna tak lang for me tae drap doon amang the cairpets again and +cover mysel' ower. There I lay tremblin' in every limb, and sayin' as mony +prayers as I could mind, wi' my e'e still peepin' through the keek-hole, and +fixed upon the door o' the general's room. +</p> + +<p> +I heard the rattle o' the handle presently, and the door swung slowly open. +There was a licht burnin' in the room beyond, an' I could just catch a glimpse +o' what seemed tae me like a row o' swords stuck alang the side o' the wa', +when the general stepped oot and shut the door behind him. He was dressed in a +dressin' goon, wi' a red smokin'-cap on his heid, and a pair o' slippers wi' +the heels cut off and the taes turned up. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment it cam into my held that maybe he was walkin' in his sleep, but as +he cam towards me I could see the glint o' the licht in his e'en, and his face +was a' twistin', like a man that's in sair distress o' mind. On my conscience, +it gies me the shakes noo when I think o' his tall figure and his yelley face +comin' sae solemn and silent doon the lang, lone passage. +</p> + +<p> +I haud my breath and lay close watchin' him, but just as he cam tae where I was +my vera hairt stood still in my breast, for “ting!”—loud and +clear, within a yaird o' me cam the ringin', clangin' soond that I had a'ready +hairkened tae. +</p> + +<p> +Where it cam frae is mair than I can tell or what was the cause o't. It might +ha' been that the general made it, but I was sair puzzled tae tell hoo, for his +honds were baith doon by his side as he passed me. It cam frae his direction, +certainly, but it appeared tae me tae come frae ower his heid, but it was +siccan a thin, eerie, high-pitched, uncanny kind o' soond that it wasna easy +tae say just exactly where it did come frae. +</p> + +<p> +The general tuk nae heed o't, but walked on and was soon oot o' sicht, and I +didna lose a minute in creepin' oot frae my hidin' place and scamperin' awa' +back tae my room, and if a' the bogies in the Red Sea were trapesin' up and +doon the hale nicht through, I wud never put my heid oot again tae hae a +glimpse o' them. +</p> + +<p> +I didna say a word tae anybody aboot what I'd seen, but I made up my mind that +I wudna stay muckle langer at Cloomber Ha'. Four pund a month is a good wage, +but it isna enough tae pay a man for the loss o' his peace o' mind, and maybe +the loss o' his soul as weel, for when the deil is aboot ye canna tell what +sort o' a trap he may lay for ye, and though they say that Providence is +stronger than him, it's maybe as weel no' to risk it. +</p> + +<p> +It was clear tae me that the general and his hoose were baith under some curse, +and it was fit that that curse should fa' on them that had earned it, and no' +on a righteous Presbyterian, wha had ever trod the narrow path. +</p> + +<p> +My hairt was sair for young Miss Gabriel—for she was a bonnie and winsome +lassie—but for a' that, I felt that my duty was tae mysel' and that I +should gang forth, even as Lot ganged oot o' the wicked cities o' the plain. +</p> + +<p> +That awfu' cling-clang was aye dingin' in my lugs, and I couldna bear to be +alane in the passages for fear o' hearin' it ance again. I only wanted a chance +or an excuse tae gie the general notice, and tae gang back to some place where +I could see Christian folk, and have the kirk within a stone-cast tae fa' back +upon. +</p> + +<p> +But it proved tae be ordained that, instead o' my saying the word, it should +come frae the general himsel'. +</p> + +<p> +It was ane day aboot the beginning of October, I was comin' oot o' the stable, +after giein' its oats tae the horse, when I seed a great muckle loon come +hoppin' on ane leg up the drive, mair like a big, ill-faured craw than a man. +</p> + +<p> +When I clapped my een on him I thocht that maybe this was ane of the rascals +that the maister had been speakin' aboot, so withoot mair ado I fetched oot my +bit stick with the intention o' tryin' it upon the limmer's heid. He seed me +comin' towards him, and readin' my intention frae my look maybe, or frae the +stick in my hand, he pu'ed oot a lang knife frae his pocket and swore wi' the +most awfu' oaths that if I didna stan' back he'd be the death o' me. +</p> + +<p> +Ma conscience! the words the chiel used was eneugh tae mak' the hair stand +straight on your heid. I wonder he wasna struck deid where he stood. +</p> + +<p> +We were still standin' opposite each ither—he wi' his knife and me wi' +the stick—when the general he cam up the drive and foond us. Tae my +surprise he began tae talk tae the stranger as if he'd kenned him a' his days. +</p> + +<p> +“Put your knife in your pocket, Corporal,” says he. “Your +fears have turned your brain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Blood an' wounds!” says the other. “He'd ha' turned my brain +tae some purpose wi' that muckle stick o' his if I hadna drawn my snickersnee. +You shouldna keep siccan an auld savage on your premises.” +</p> + +<p> +The maister he frooned and looked black at him, as though he didna relish +advice comin' frae such a source. Then turnin' tae me—“You won't be +wanted after to-day, Israel,” he says; “you have been a guid +servant, and I ha' naething tae complain of wi' ye, but circumstances have +arisen which will cause me tae change my arrangements.” +</p> + +<p> +“Vera guid, sir,” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“You can go this evening,” says he, “and you shall have an +extra month's pay tae mak up t'ye for this short notice.” +</p> + +<p> +Wi' that he went intae the hoose, followed by the man that he ca'ed the +corporal, and frae that day tae this I have never clapped een either on the ane +or the ither. My money was sent oot tae me in an envelope, and havin' said a +few pairtin' words tae the cook and the wench wi' reference tae the wrath tae +come and the treasure that is richer than rubies, I shook the dust o' Cloomber +frae my feet for ever. +</p> + +<p> +Maister Fothergill West says I maunna express an opeenion as tae what cam aboot +afterwards, but maun confine mysel' tae what I saw mysel'. Nae doubt he has his +reasons for this—and far be it frae me tae hint that they are no' guid +anes—but I maun say this, that what happened didna surprise me. It was +just as I expeckit, and so I said tae Maister Donald McSnaw. +</p> + +<p> +I've tauld ye a' aboot it noo, and I havena a word tae add or tae withdraw. I'm +muckle obleeged tae Maister Mathew Clairk for puttin' it a' doon in writin' for +me, and if there's ony would wish tae speer onything mair o' me I'm well kenned +and respeckit in Ecclefechan, and Maister McNeil, the factor o' Wigtown, can +aye tell where I am tae be foond. +</p> + +<p> +(<a name="ft_1" id="ft_1"></a>1) The old rascal was well paid for his trouble, so he need not have made such +a favour of it.—J.F.W. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"></a> +CHAPTER IX.<br /> +NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING, F.R.C.P.EDIN.</h2> + +<p> +Having given the statement of Israel Stakes <i>in extenso</i>, I shall append a +short memorandum from Dr. Easterling, now practising at Stranraer. It is true +that the doctor was only once within the walls of Cloomber during its tenancy +by General Heatherstone, but there were some circumstances connected with this +visit which made it valuable, especially when considered as a supplement to the +experiences which I have just submitted to the reader. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor has found time amid the calls of a busy country practice to jot down +his recollections, and I feel that I cannot do better than subjoin them exactly +as they stand. +</p> + +<p> +I have very much pleasure in furnishing Mr. Fothergill West with an account of +my solitary visit to Cloomber Hall, not only on account of the esteem which I +have formed for that gentleman ever since his residence at Branksome, but also +because it is my conviction that the facts in the case of General Heatherstone +are of such a singular nature that it is of the highest importance that they +should be placed before the public in a trustworthy manner. +</p> + +<p> +It was about the beginning of September of last year that I received a note +from Mrs. Heatherstone, of Cloomber Hall, desiring me to make a professional +call upon her husband, whose health, she said, had been for some time in a very +unsatisfactory state. +</p> + +<p> +I had heard something of the Heatherstones and of the strange seclusion in +which they lived, so that I was very much pleased at this opportunity of making +their closer acquaintance, and lost no time in complying with her request. +</p> + +<p> +I had known the Hall in the old days of Mr. McVittie, the original proprietor, +and I was astonished on arriving at the avenue gate to observe the changes +which had taken place. +</p> + +<p> +The gate itself, which used to yawn so hospitably upon the road, was now barred +and locked, and a high wooden fence, with nails upon the top, encircled the +whole grounds. The drive itself was leaf-strewn and uncared-for, and the whole +place had a depressing air of neglect and decay. +</p> + +<p> +I had to knock twice before a servant-maid opened the door and showed me +through a dingy hall into a small room, where sat an elderly, careworn lady, +who introduced herself as Mrs. Heatherstone. With her pale face, her grey hair, +her sad, colourless eyes, and her faded silk dress, she was in perfect keeping +with her melancholy surroundings. +</p> + +<p> +“You find us in much trouble, doctor,” she said, in a quiet, +refined voice. “My poor husband has had a great deal to worry him, and +his nervous system for a long time has been in a very weak state. We came to +this part of the country in the hope that the bracing air and the quiet would +have a good effect upon him. Instead of improving, however, he has seemed to +grow weaker, and this morning he is in a high fever and a little inclined to be +delirious. The children and I were so frightened that we sent for you at once. +If you will follow me I will take you to the general's bedroom.” +</p> + +<p> +She led the way down a series of corridors to the chamber of the sick man, +which was situated in the extreme wing of the building. +</p> + +<p> +It was a carpetless, bleak-looking room, scantily furnished with a small +truckle bed, a campaigning chair, and a plain deal table, on which were +scattered numerous papers and books. In the centre of this table there stood a +large object of irregular outline, which was covered over with a sheet of +linen. +</p> + +<p> +All round the walls and in the corners were arranged a very choice and varied +collection of arms, principally swords, some of which were of the straight +pattern in common use in the British Army, while among the others were +scimitars, tulwars, cuchurries, and a score of other specimens of Oriental +workmanship. Many of these were richly mounted, with inlaid sheaths and hilts +sparkling with precious stones, so that there was a piquant contrast between +the simplicity of the apartment and the wealth which glittered on the walls. +</p> + +<p> +I had little time, however, to observe the general's collection, since the +general himself lay upon the couch and was evidently in sore need of my +services. +</p> + +<p> +He was lying with his head turned half away from us. Breathing heavily, and +apparently unconscious of our presence. His bright, staring eyes and the deep, +hectic flush upon his cheek showed that his fever was at its height. +</p> + +<p> +I advanced to the bedside, and, stooping over him, I placed my fingers upon his +pulse, when immediately he sprang up into the sitting position and struck at me +frenziedly with his clenched hands. I have never seen such intensity of fear +and horror stamped upon a human face as appeared upon that which was now +glaring up at me. +</p> + +<p> +“Bloodhound!” he yelled; “let me go—let me go, I say! +Keep your hands off me! Is it not enough that my life has been ruined? When is +it all to end? How long am I to endure it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, dear, hush!” said his wife in a soothing voice, passing her +cool hand over his heated forehead. “This is Doctor Easterling, from +Stranraer. He has not come to harm you, but to do you good.” +</p> + +<p> +The general dropped wearily back upon his pillow, and I could see by the +changed expression of his face that his delirium had left him, and that he +understood what had been said. +</p> + +<p> +I slipped my clinical thermometer into his armpit and counted his pulse rate. +It amounted to 120 per minute, and his temperature proved to be 104 degrees. +Clearly it was a case of remittent fever, such as occurs in men who have spent +a great part of their lives in the tropics. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no danger,” I remarked. “With a little quinine and +arsenic we shall very soon overcome the attack and restore his health.” +</p> + +<p> +“No danger, eh?” he said. “There never is any danger for me. +I am as hard to kill as the Wandering Jew. I am quite clear in the head now, +Mary; so you may leave me with the doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Heatherstone left the room—rather unwillingly, as I +thought—and I sat down by the bedside to listen to anything which my +patient might have to communicate. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to examine my liver,” he said when the door was closed. +“I used to have an abscess there, and Brodie, the staff-surgeon, said +that it was ten to one that it would carry me off. I have not felt much of it +since I left the East. This is where it used to be, just under the angle of the +ribs.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can find the place,” said I, after making a careful examination; +“but I am happy to tell you that the abscess has either been entirely +absorbed, or has turned calcareous, as these solitary abscesses will. There is +no fear of its doing you any harm now.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to be by no means overjoyed at the intelligence. +</p> + +<p> +“Things always happen so with me,” he said moodily. “Now, if +another fellow was feverish and delirious he would surely be in some danger, +and yet you will tell me that I am in none. Look at this, now.” He bared +his chest and showed me a puckered wound over the region of the heart. +“That's where the jezail bullet of a Hillman went in. You would think +that was in the right spot to settle a man, and yet what does it do but glance +upon a rib, and go clean round and out at the back, without so much as +penetrating what you medicos call the pleura. Did ever you hear of such a +thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“You were certainly born under a lucky star,” I observed, with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +“That's a matter of opinion,” he answered, shaking his head. +“Death has no terrors for me, if it will but come in some familiar form, +but I confess that the anticipation of some strange, some preternatural form of +death is very terrible and unnerving.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean,” said I, rather puzzled at his remark, “that you +would prefer a natural death to a death by violence?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don't mean that exactly,” he answered. “I am too +familiar with cold steel and lead to be afraid of either. Do you know anything +about odyllic force, doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I do not,” I replied, glancing sharply at him to see if there +were any signs of his delirium returning. His expression was intelligent, +however, and the feverish flush had faded from his cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you Western scientific men are very much behind the day in some +things,” he remarked. “In all that is material and conducive to the +comfort of the body you are pre-eminent, but in what concerns the subtle forces +of Nature and the latent powers of the human spirit your best men are centuries +behind the humblest coolies of India. Countless generations of beef-eating, +comfort loving ancestors have given our animal instincts the command over our +spiritual ones. The body, which should have been a mere tool for the use of the +soul, has now become a degrading prison in which it is confined. The Oriental +soul and body are not so welded together as ours are, and there is far less +wrench when they part in death.” +</p> + +<p> +“They do not appear to derive much benefit from this peculiarity in their +organisation,” I remarked incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Merely the benefit of superior knowledge,” the general answered. +“If you were to go to India, probably the very first thing you would see +in the way of amusement would be a native doing what is called the mango trick. +Of course you have heard or read of it. The fellow plants a mango seed, and +makes passes over it until it sprouts and bears leaves and fruit—all in +the space of half-an-hour. It is not really a trick—it is a power. These +men know more than your Tyndalls or Huxleys do about Nature's processes, and +they can accelerate or retard her workings by subtle means of which we have no +conception. These low-caste conjurers—as they are called—are mere +vulgar dabblers, but the men who have trod the higher path are as far superior +to us in knowledge as we are to the Hottentots or Patagonians.” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak as if you were well acquainted with them,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“To my cost, I am,” he answered. “I have been brought in +contact with them in a way in which I trust no other poor chap ever will be. +But, really, as regards odyllic force, you ought to know something of it, for +it has a great future before it in your profession. You should read +Reichenbach's 'Researches on Magnetism and Vital Force,' and Gregory's 'Letters +on Animal Magnetism.' These, supplemented by the twenty-seven Aphorisms of +Mesmer, and the works of Dr. Justinus Kerner, of Weinsberg, would enlarge your +ideas.” +</p> + +<p> +I did not particularly relish having a course of reading prescribed for me on a +subject connected with my own profession, so I made no comment, but rose to +take my departure. Before doing so I felt his pulse once more, and found that +the fever had entirely left him in the sudden, unaccountable fashion which is +peculiar to these malarious types of disease. +</p> + +<p> +I turned my face towards him to congratulate him upon his improvement, and +stretched out my hand at the same time to pick my gloves from the table, with +the result that I raised not only my own property, but also the linen cloth +which was arranged over some object in the centre. +</p> + +<p> +I might not have noticed what I had done had I not seen an angry look upon the +invalid's face and heard him utter an impatient exclamation. I at once turned, +and replaced the cloth so promptly that I should have been unable to say what +was underneath it, beyond having a general impression that it looked like a +bride-cake. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, doctor,” the general said good-humouredly, perceiving +how entirely accidental the incident was. “There is no reason why you +should not see it,” and stretching out his hand, he pulled away the linen +covering for the second time. +</p> + +<p> +I then perceived that what I had taken for a bride-cake was really an admirably +executed model of a lofty range of mountains, whose snow-clad peaks were not +unlike the familiar sugar pinnacles and minarets. +</p> + +<p> +“These are the Himalayas, or at least the Surinam branch of them,” +he remarked, “showing the principal passes between India and Afghanistan. +It is an excellent model. This ground has a special interest for me, because it +is the scene of my first campaign. There is the pass opposite Kalabagh and the +Thul valley, where I was engaged during the summer of 1841 in protecting the +convoys and keeping the Afridis in order. It wasn't a sinecure, I promise +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And this,” said I, indicating a blood-red spot which had been +marked on one side of the pass which he had pointed out—“this is +the scene of some fight in which you were engaged.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we had a skirmish there,” he answered, leaning forward and +looking at the red mark. “We were attacked by—” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment he fell back upon his pillow as if he had been shot, while the +same look of horror came over his face which I had observed when I first +entered the room. At the same instant there came, apparently from the air +immediately above his bed, a sharp, ringing, tinkling sound, which I can only +compare with the noise made by a bicycle alarm, though it differed from this in +having a distinctly throbbing character. I have never, before or since, heard +any sound which could be confounded with it. +</p> + +<p> +I stared round in astonishment, wondering where it could have come from, but +without perceiving anything to which it could be ascribed. +</p> + +<p> +“It's all right, doctor,” the general said with a ghastly smile. +“It's only my private gong. Perhaps you had better step downstairs and +write my prescription in the dining-room.” +</p> + +<p> +He was evidently anxious to get rid of me, so I was forced to take my +departure, though I would gladly have stayed a little longer, in the hope of +learning something as to the origin of the mysterious sound. +</p> + +<p> +I drove away from the house with the full determination of calling again upon +my interesting patient, and endeavouring to elicit some further particulars as +to his past life and his present circumstances. I was destined, however, to be +disappointed, for I received that very evening a note from the general himself, +enclosing a handsome fee for my single visit, and informing me that my +treatment had done him so much good that he considered himself to be +convalescent, and would not trouble me to see him again. +</p> + +<p> +This was the last and only communication which I ever received from the tenant +of Cloomber. +</p> + +<p> +I have been asked frequently by neighbours and others who were interested in +the matter whether he gave me the impression of insanity. To this I must +unhesitatingly answer in the negative. On the contrary, his remarks gave me the +idea of a man who had both read and thought deeply. +</p> + +<p> +I observed, however, during our single interview, that his reflexes were +feeble, his arcus senilis well marked, and his arteries atheromatous—all +signs that his constitution was in an unsatisfactory condition, and that a +sudden crisis might be apprehended. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"></a> +CHAPTER X.<br /> +OF THE LETTER WHICH CAME FROM THE HALL</h2> + +<p> +Having thrown this side-light upon my narrative, I can now resume the statement +of my own personal experiences. These I had brought down, as the reader will +doubtless remember, to the date of the arrival of the savage-looking wanderer +who called himself Corporal Rufus Smith. This incident occurred about the +beginning of the month of October, and I find upon a comparison of dates that +Dr. Easterling's visit to Cloomber preceded it by three weeks or more. +</p> + +<p> +During all this time I was in sore distress of mind, for I had never seen +anything either of Gabriel or of her brother since the interview in which the +general had discovered the communication which was kept up between us. I had no +doubt that some sort of restraint had been placed upon them; and the thought +that we had brought trouble on their heads was a bitter one both to my sister +and myself. +</p> + +<p> +Our anxiety, however, was considerably mitigated by the receipt, a couple of +days after my last talk with the general, of a note from Mordaunt Heatherstone. +This was brought us by a little, ragged urchin, the son of one of the +fishermen, who informed us that it had been handed to him at the avenue gate by +an old woman—who, I expect, must have been the Cloomber cook. +</p> + +<p> +“<span class="smcap">My Dearest Friends</span>,” it ran, “Gabriel and I have grieved to +think how concerned you must be at having neither heard from nor seen us. The +fact is that we are compelled to remain in the house. And this compulsion is +not physical but moral. +</p> + +<p> +“Our poor father, who gets more and more nervous every day, has entreated +us to promise him that we will not go out until after the fifth of October, and +to allay his fears we have given him the desired pledge. On the other hand, he +has promised us that after the fifth—that is, in less than a +week—we shall be as free as air to come or go as we please, so we have +something to look forward to. +</p> + +<p> +“Gabriel says that she has explained to you that the governor is always a +changed man after this particular date, on which his fears reach a crisis. He +apparently has more reason than usual this year to anticipate that trouble is +brewing for this unfortunate family, for I have never known him to take so many +elaborate precautions or appear so thoroughly unnerved. Who would ever think, +to see his bent form and his shaking hands, that he is the same man who used +some few short years ago to shoot tigers on foot among the jungles of the +Terai, and would laugh at the more timid sportsmen who sought the protection of +their elephant's howdah? +</p> + +<p> +“You know that he has the Victoria Cross, which he won in the streets of +Delhi, and yet here he is shivering with terror and starting at every noise, in +the most peaceful corner of the world. Oh, the pity of it. West! Remember what +I have already told you—that it is no fanciful or imaginary peril, but +one which we have every reason to suppose to be most real. It is, however, of +such a nature that it can neither be averted nor can it profitably be expressed +in words. If all goes well, you will see us at Branksome on the sixth. +</p> + +<p> +“With our fondest love to both of you, I am ever, my dear friends, your +attached +</p> + +<p> +“MORDAUNT.” +</p> + +<p> +This letter was a great relief to us as letting us know that the brother and +sister were under no physical restraint, but our powerlessness and inability +even to comprehend what the danger was which threatened those whom we had come +to love better than ourselves was little short of maddening. +</p> + +<p> +Fifty times a day we asked ourselves and asked each other from what possible +quarter this peril was to be expected, but the more we thought of it the more +hopeless did any solution appear. +</p> + +<p> +In vain we combined our experiences and pieced together every word which had +fallen from the lips of any inmate of Cloomber which might be supposed to bear +directly or indirectly upon the subject. +</p> + +<p> +At last, weary with fruitless speculation, we were fain to try to drive the +matter from our thoughts, consoling ourselves with the reflection that in a few +more days all restrictions would be removed, and we should be able to learn +from our friends' own lips. +</p> + +<p> +Those few intervening days, however, would, we feared, be dreary, long ones. +And so they would have been, had it not been for a new and most unexpected +incident, which diverted our minds from our own troubles and gave them +something fresh with which to occupy themselves. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"></a> +CHAPTER XI.<br /> +OF THE CASTING AWAY OF THE BARQUE “BELINDA”</h2> + +<p> +The third of October had broken auspiciously with a bright sun and a cloudless +sky. There had in the morning been a slight breeze, and a few little white +wreaths of vapour drifted here and there like the scattered feathers of some +gigantic bird, but, as the day wore on, such wind as there was fell completely +away, and the air became close and stagnant. +</p> + +<p> +The sun blazed down with a degree of heat which was remarkable so late in the +season, and a shimmering haze lay upon the upland moors and concealed the Irish +mountains on the other side of the Channel. +</p> + +<p> +The sea itself rose and fell in a long, heavy, oily roll, sweeping slowly +landward, and breaking sullenly with a dull, monotonous booming upon the +rock-girt shore. To the inexperienced all seemed calm and peaceful, but to +those who are accustomed to read Nature's warnings there was a dark menace in +air and sky and sea. +</p> + +<p> +My sister and I walked out in the afternoon, sauntering slowly along the margin +of the great, sandy spit which shoots out into the Irish Sea, flanking upon one +side the magnificent Bay of Luce, and on the other the more obscure inlet of +Kirkmaiden, on the shores of which the Branksome property is situated. +</p> + +<p> +It was too sultry to go far, so we soon seated ourselves upon one of the sandy +hillocks, overgrown with faded grass-tufts, which extend along the coast-line, +and which form Nature's dykes against the encroachments of the ocean. +</p> + +<p> +Our rest was soon interrupted by the scrunching of heavy boots upon the +shingle, and Jamieson, the old man-o'-war's man whom I have already had +occasion to mention, made his appearance, with the flat, circular net upon his +back which he used for shrimp-catching. He came towards us upon seeing us, and +said in his rough, kindly way that he hoped we would not take it amiss if he +sent us up a dish of shrimps for our tea at Branksome. +</p> + +<p> +“I aye make a good catch before a storm,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“You think there is going to be a storm, then?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, even a marine could see that,” he answered, sticking a great +wedge of tobacco into his cheek. “The moors over near Cloomber are just +white wi' gulls and kittiewakes. What d'ye think they come ashore for except to +escape having all the feathers blown out o' them? I mind a day like this when I +was wi' Charlie Napier off Cronstadt. It well-nigh blew us under the guns of +the forts, for all our engines and propellers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever known a wreck in these parts?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Lord love ye, sir, it's a famous place for wrecks. Why, in that very bay +down there two o' King Philip's first-rates foundered wi' all hands in the days +o' the Spanish war. If that sheet o' water and the Bay o' Luce round the corner +could tell their ain tale they'd have a gey lot to speak of. When the Jedgment +Day comes round that water will be just bubbling wi' the number o' folks that +will be coming up frae the bottom.” +</p> + +<p> +“I trust that there will be no wrecks while we are here,” said +Esther earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +The old man shook his grizzled head and looked distrustfully at the hazy +horizon. +</p> + +<p> +“If it blows from the west,” he said, “some o' these sailing +ships may find it no joke to be caught without sea-room in the North Channel. +There's that barque out yonder—I daresay her maister would be glad enough +to find himsel' safe in the Clyde.” +</p> + +<p> +“She seems to be absolutely motionless,” I remarked, looking at the +vessel in question, whose black hull and gleaming sails rose and fell slowly +with the throbbing of the giant pulse beneath her. “Perhaps, Jamieson, we +are wrong, and there will be no storm after all.” +</p> + +<p> +The old sailor chuckled to himself with an air of superior knowledge, and +shuffled away with his shrimp-net, while my sister and I walked slowly +homewards through the hot and stagnant air. +</p> + +<p> +I went up to my father's study to see if the old gentleman had any instructions +as to the estate, for he had become engrossed in a new work upon Oriental +literature, and the practical management of the property had in consequence +devolved entirely upon me. +</p> + +<p> +I found him seated at his square library table, which was so heaped with books +and papers that nothing of him was visible from the door except a tuft of white +hair. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear son,” he said to me as I entered, “it is a great +grief to me that you are not more conversant with Sanscrit. When I was your +age, I could converse not only in that noble language, but also in the Tamulic, +Lohitic, Gangelic, Taic, and Malaic dialects, which are all offshoots from the +Turanian branch.” +</p> + +<p> +“I regret extremely, sir,” I answered, “that I have not +inherited your wonderful talents as a polyglot.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have set myself a task,” he explained, “which, if it could +only be continued from generation to generation in our own family until it was +completed, would make the name of West immortal. This is nothing less than to +publish an English translation of the Buddhist Djarmas, with a preface giving +an idea of the position of Brahminism before the coming of Sakyamuni. With +diligence it is possible that I might be able myself to complete part of the +preface before I die.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray, sir,” I asked, “how long would the whole work be +when it was finished?” +</p> + +<p> +“The abridged edition in the Imperial Library of Pekin,” said my +father, rubbing his hands together, “consists of 325 volumes of an +average weight of five pounds. Then the preface, which must embrace some +account of the Rig-veda, the Sama-veda, the Yagur-veda, and the Atharva-veda, +with the Brahmanas, could hardly be completed in less than ten volumes. Now, if +we apportion one volume to each year, there is every prospect of the family +coming to an end of its task about the date 2250, the twelfth generation +completing the work, while the thirteenth might occupy itself upon the +index.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how are our descendants to live, sir,” I asked, with a smile, +“during the progress of this great undertaking:” +</p> + +<p> +“That's the worst of you, Jack,” my father cried petulantly. +“There is nothing practical about you. Instead of confining your +attention to the working out of my noble scheme, you begin raising all sorts of +absurd objections. It is a mere matter of detail how our descendants live, so +long as they stick to the Djarmas. Now, I want you to go up to the bothy of +Fergus McDonald and see about the thatch, and Willie Fullerton has written to +say that his milk-cow is bad. You might took in upon your way and ask after +it.” +</p> + +<p> +I started off upon my errands, but before doing so I took a look at the +barometer upon the wall. The mercury had sunk to the phenomenal point of +twenty-eight inches. Clearly the old sailor had not been wrong in his +interpretation of Nature's signs. +</p> + +<p> +As I returned over the moors in the evening, the wind was blowing in short, +angry puffs, and the western horizon was heaped with sombre clouds which +stretched their long, ragged tentacles right up to the zenith. +</p> + +<p> +Against their dark background one or two livid, sulphur-coloured splotches +showed up malignant and menacing, while the surface of the sea had changed from +the appearance of burnished quicksilver to that of ground glass. A low, moaning +sound rose up from the ocean as if it knew that trouble was in store for it. +</p> + +<p> +Far out in the Channel I saw a single panting, eager steam vessel making its +way to Belfast Lough, and the large barque which I had observed in the morning +still beating about in the offing, endeavouring to pass to the northward. +</p> + +<p> +At nine o'clock a sharp breeze was blowing, at ten it had freshened into a +gale, and before midnight the most furious storm was raging which I can +remember upon that weather-beaten coast. +</p> + +<p> +I sat for some time in our small, oak-panelled sitting-room listening to the +screeching and howling of the blast and to the rattle of the gravel and pebbles +as they pattered against the window. Nature's grim orchestra was playing its +world-old piece with a compass which ranged from the deep diapason of the +thundering surge to the thin shriek of the scattered shingle and the keen +piping of frightened sea birds. +</p> + +<p> +Once for an instant I opened the lattice window, but a gust of wind and rain +came blustering through, bearing with it a great sheet of seaweed, which +flapped down upon the table. It was all I could do to close it again with a +thrust of my shoulder in the face of the blast. +</p> + +<p> +My sister and father had retired to their rooms, but my thoughts were too +active for sleep, so I continued to sit and to smoke by the smouldering fire. +</p> + +<p> +What was going on in the Hall now, I wondered? What did Gabriel think of the +storm, and how did it affect the old man who wandered about in the night? Did +he welcome these dread forces of Nature as being of the same order of things as +his own tumultuous thoughts? +</p> + +<p> +It was only two days now from the date which I had been assured was to mark a +crisis in his fortunes. Would he regard this sudden tempest as being in any way +connected with the mysterious fate which threatened him? +</p> + +<p> +Over all these things and many more I pondered as I sat by the glowing embers +until they died gradually out, and the chill night air warned me that it was +time to retire. +</p> + +<p> +I may have slept a couple of hours when I was awakened by someone tugging +furiously at my shoulder. Sitting up in bed, I saw by the dim light that my +father was standing half-clad by my bedside, and that it was his grasp which I +felt on my night-shirt. +</p> + +<p> +“Get up, Jack, get up!” he was crying excitedly. “There's a +great ship ashore in the bay, and the poor folk will all be drowned. Come down, +my boy, and let us see what we can do.” +</p> + +<p> +The good old man seemed to be nearly beside himself with excitement and +impatience. I sprang from my bed, and was huddling on a few clothes, when a +dull, booming sound made itself heard above the howling of the wind and the +thunder of the breakers. +</p> + +<p> +“There it is again!” cried my father. “It is their signal +gun, poor creatures! Jamieson and the fishermen are below. Put your oil-skin +coat on and the Glengarry hat. Come, come, every second may mean a human +life!” +</p> + +<p> +We hurried down together and made our way to the beach, accompanied by a dozen +or so of the inhabitants of Branksome. +</p> + +<p> +The gale had increased rather than moderated, and the wind screamed all round +us with an infernal clamour. So great was its force that we had to put our +shoulders against it, and bore our way through it, while the sand and gravel +tingled up against our faces. +</p> + +<p> +There was just light enough to make out the scudding clouds and the white gleam +of the breakers, but beyond that all was absolute darkness. +</p> + +<p> +We stood ankle deep in the shingle and seaweed, shading our eyes with our hands +and peering out into the inky obscurity. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to me as I listened that I could hear human voices loud in intreaty +and terror, but amid the wild turmoil of Nature it was difficult to distinguish +one sound from another. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, however, a light glimmered in the heart of the tempest, and next +instant the beach and sea and wide, tossing bay were brilliantly illuminated by +the wild glare of a signal light. +</p> + +<p> +The ship lay on her beam-ends right in the centre of the terrible Hansel reef, +hurled over to such an angle that I could see all the planking of her deck. I +recognised her at once as being the same three-masted barque which I had +observed in the Channel in the morning, and the Union Jack which was nailed +upside down to the jagged slump of her mizzen proclaimed her nationality. +</p> + +<p> +Every spar and rope and writhing piece of cordage showed up hard and clear +under the vivid light which spluttered and flickered from the highest portion +of the forecastle. Beyond the doomed ship, out of the great darkness came the +long, rolling lines of big waves, never ending, never tiring, with a petulant +tuft of foam here and there upon their crests. Each as it reached the broad +circle of unnatural light appeared to gather strength and volume and to hurry +on more impetuously until with a roar and a jarring crash it sprang upon its +victim. +</p> + +<p> +Clinging to the weather shrouds we could distinctly see ten or a dozen +frightened seamen who, when the light revealed our presence, turned their white +faces towards us and waved their hands imploringly. The poor wretches had +evidently taken fresh hope from our presence, though it was clear that their +own boats had either been washed away or so damaged as to render them useless. +</p> + +<p> +The sailors who clung to the rigging were not, however, the only unfortunates +on board. On the breaking poop there stood three men who appeared to be both of +a different race and nature from the cowering wretches who implored our +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +Leaning upon the shattered taff-rail they seemed to be conversing together as +quietly and unconcernedly as though they were unconscious of the deadly peril +which surrounded them. +</p> + +<p> +As the signal light flickered over them, we could see from the shore that these +immutable strangers wore red fezes, and that their faces were of a swarthy, +large-featured type, which proclaimed an Eastern origin. +</p> + +<p> +There was little time, however, for us to take note of such details. The ship +was breaking rapidly, and some effort must be made to save the poor, sodden +group of humanity who implored our assistance. +</p> + +<p> +The nearest lifeboat was in the Bay of Luce, ten long miles away, but here was +our own broad, roomy craft upon the shingle, and plenty of brave fisher lads to +form a crew. Six of us sprang to the oars, the others pushed us off, and we +fought our way through the swirling, raging waters, staggering and recoiling +before the great, sweeping billows, but still steadily decreasing the distance +between the barque and ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed, however, that our efforts were fated to be in vain. +</p> + +<p> +As we mounted upon a surge I saw a giant wave, topping all the others, and +coming after them like a driver following a flock, sweep down upon the vessel, +curling its great, green arch over the breaking deck. +</p> + +<p> +With a rending, riving sound the ship split in two where the terrible, serrated +back of the Hansel reef was sawing into her keel. The after-part, with the +broken mizzen and the three Orientals, sank backwards into deep water and +vanished, while the fore-half oscillated helplessly about, retaining its +precarious balance upon the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +A wail of fear went up from the wreck and was echoed from the beach, but by the +blessing of Providence she kept afloat until we made our way under her bowsprit +and rescued every man of the crew. +</p> + +<p> +We had not got half-way upon our return, however, when another great wave swept +the shattered forecastle off the reef, and, extinguishing the signal light, hid +the wild denouement from our view. +</p> + +<p> +Our friends upon the shore were loud in congratulation and praise, nor were +they backward in welcoming and comforting the castaways. They were thirteen in +all, as cold and cowed a set of mortals as ever slipped through Death's +fingers, save, indeed, their captain, who was a hardy, robust man, and who made +light of the affair. +</p> + +<p> +Some were taken off to this cottage and some to that, but the greater part came +back to Branksome with us, where we gave them such dry clothes as we could lay +our hands on, and served them with beef and beer by the kitchen fire. The +captain, whose name was Meadows, compressed his bulky form into a suit of my +own, and came down to the parlour, where he mixed himself some grog and gave my +father and myself an account of the disaster. +</p> + +<p> +“If it hadn't been for you, sir, and your brave fellows,” he said, +smiling across at me, “we should be ten fathoms deep by this time. As to +the <i>Belinda</i>, she was a leaky old tub and well insured, so neither the +owners nor I are likely to break our hearts over her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid,” said my father sadly, “that we shall never see +your three passengers again. I have left men upon the beach in case they should +be washed up, but I fear it is hopeless. I saw them go down when the vessel +split, and no man could have lived for a moment among that terrible +surge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who were they?” I asked. “I could not have believed that it +was possible for men to appear so unconcerned in the face of such imminent +peril.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to who they are or were,” the captain answered, puffing +thoughtfully at his pipe, “that is by no means easy to say. Our last port +was Kurrachee, in the north of India, and there we took them aboard as +passengers for Glasgow. Ram Singh was the name of the younger, and it is only +with him that I have come in contact, but they all appeared to be quiet, +inoffensive gentlemen. I never inquired their business, but I should judge that +they were Parsee merchants from Hyderabad whose trade took them to Europe. I +could never see why the crew should fear them, and the mate, too, he should +have had more sense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fear them!” I ejaculated in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, they had some preposterous idea that they were dangerous shipmates. +I have no doubt if you were to go down into the kitchen now you would find that +they are all agreed that our passengers were the cause of the whole +disaster.” +</p> + +<p> +As the captain was speaking the parlour door opened and the mate of the barque, +a tall, red-bearded sailor, stepped in. He had obtained a complete rig-out from +some kind-hearted fisherman, and looked in his comfortable jersey and +well-greased seaboots a very favourable specimen of a shipwrecked mariner. +</p> + +<p> +With a few words of grateful acknowledgment of our hospitality, he drew a chair +up to the fire and warmed his great, brown hands before the blaze. +</p> + +<p> +“What d'ye think now, Captain Meadows?” he asked presently, +glancing up at his superior officer. “Didn't I warn you what would be the +upshot of having those niggers on board the <i>Belinda</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +The captain leant back in his chair and laughed heartily. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn't I tell you?” he cried, appealing to us. “Didn't I +tell you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It might have been no laughing matter for us,” the other remarked +petulantly. “I have lost a good sea-kit and nearly my life into the +bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I understand you to say,” said I, “that you attribute +your misfortunes to your ill-fated passengers?” +</p> + +<p> +The mate opened his eyes at the adjective. +</p> + +<p> +“Why ill-fated, sir?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Because they are most certainly drowned,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +He sniffed incredulously and went on warming his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Men of that kind are never drowned,” he said, after a pause. +“Their father, the devil, looks after them. Did you see them standing on +the poop and rolling cigarettes at the time when the mizzen was carried away +and the quarter-boats stove? That was enough for me. I'm not surprised at you +landsmen not being able to take it in, but the captain here, who's been sailing +since he was the height of the binnacle, ought to know by this time that a cat +and a priest are the worst cargo you can carry. If a Christian priest is bad, I +guess an idolatrous pagan one is fifty times worse. I stand by the old +religion, and be d—d to it!” +</p> + +<p> +My father and I could not help laughing at the rough sailor's very unorthodox +way of proclaiming his orthodoxy. The mate, however, was evidently in deadly +earnest, and proceeded to state his case, marking off the different points upon +the rough, red fingers of his left hand. +</p> + +<p> +“It was at Kurrachee, directly after they come that I warned ye,” +he said reproachfully to the captain. “There was three Buddhist Lascars +in my watch, and what did they do when them chaps come aboard? Why, they down +on their stomachs and rubbed their noses on the deck—that's what they +did. They wouldn't ha' done as much for an admiral of the R'yal Navy. They know +who's who—these niggers do; and I smelt mischief the moment I saw them on +their faces. I asked them afterwards in your presence, Captain, why they had +done it, and they answered that the passengers were holy men. You heard 'em +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there's no harm in that, Hawkins,” said Captain Meadows. +</p> + +<p> +“I don't know that,” the mate said doubtfully. “The holiest +Christian is the one that's nearest God, but the holiest nigger is, in my +opinion, the one that's nearest the devil. Then you saw yourself, Captain +Meadows, how they went on during the voyage, reading books that was writ on +wood instead o' paper, and sitting up right through the night to jabber +together on the quarter-deck. What did they want to have a chart of their own +for and to mark the course of the vessel every day?” +</p> + +<p> +“They didn't,” said the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed they did, and if I did not tell you sooner it was because you +were always ready to laugh at what I said about them. They had instruments o' +their own—when they used them I can't say—but every day at noon +they worked out the latitude and longitude, and marked out the vessel's +position on a chart that was pinned on their cabin table. I saw them at it, and +so did the steward from his pantry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don't see what you prove from that,” the captain remarked, +“though I confess it is a strange thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I'll tell you another strange thing,” said the mate impressively. +“Do you know the name of this bay in which we are cast away?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have learnt from our kind friends here that we are upon the +Wigtownshire coast,” the captain answered, “but I have not heard +the name of the bay.” +</p> + +<p> +The mate leant forward with a grave face. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the Bay of Kirkmaiden,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +If he expected to astonish Captain Meadows he certainly succeeded, for that +gentleman was fairly bereft of speech for a minute or more. +</p> + +<p> +“This is really marvellous,” he said, after a time, turning to us. +“These passengers of ours cross-questioned us early in the voyage as to +the existence of a bay of that name. Hawkins here and I denied all knowledge of +one, for on the chart it is included in the Bay of Luce. That we should +eventually be blown into it and destroyed is an extraordinary +coincidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too extraordinary to be a coincidence,” growled the mate. “I +saw them during the calm yesterday morning, pointing to the land over our +starboard quarter. They knew well enough that that was the port they were +making for.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of it all, then, Hawkins?” asked the captain, +with a troubled face. “What is your own theory on the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, in my opinion,” the mate answered, “them three swabs +have no more difficulty in raising a gale o' wind than I should have in +swallowing this here grog. They had reasons o' their own for coming to this +God-forsaken—saving your presence, sirs—this God-forsaken bay, and +they took a short cut to it by arranging to be blown ashore there. That's my +idea o' the matter, though what three Buddhist priests could find to do in the +Bay of Kirkmaiden is clean past my comprehension.” +</p> + +<p> +My father raised his eyebrows to indicate the doubt which his hospitality +forbade him from putting into words. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, gentlemen,” he said, “that you are both sorely in +need of rest after your perilous adventures. If you will follow me I shall lead +you to your rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +He conducted them with old-fashioned ceremony to the laird's best spare +bedroom, and then, returning to me in the parlour, proposed that we should go +down together to the beach and learn whether anything fresh had occurred. +</p> + +<p> +The first pale light of dawn was just appearing in the east when we made our +way for the second time to the scene of the shipwreck. The gale had blown +itself out, but the sea was still very high, and all inside the breakers was a +seething, gleaming line of foam, as though the fierce old ocean were gnashing +its white fangs at the victims who had escaped from its clutches. +</p> + +<p> +All along the beach fishermen and crofters were hard at work hauling up spars +and barrels as fast as they were tossed ashore. None of them had seen any +bodies, however, and they explained to us that only such things as could float +had any chance of coming ashore, for the undercurrent was so strong that +whatever was beneath the surface must infallibly be swept out to sea. +</p> + +<p> +As to the possibility of the unfortunate passengers having been able to reach +the shore, these practical men would not hear of it for a moment, and showed us +conclusively that if they had not been drowned they must have been dashed to +pieces upon the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +“We did all that could be done,” my father said sadly, as we +returned home. “I am afraid that the poor mate has had his reason +affected by the suddenness of the disaster. Did you hear what he said about +Buddhist priests raising a gale?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I heard him,” said I. “It was very painful to listen to +him,” said my father. “I wonder if he would object to my putting a +small mustard plaster under each of his ears. It would relieve any congestion +of the brain. Or perhaps it would be best to wake him up and give him two +antibilious pills. What do you think, Jack?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said I, with a yawn, “that you had best let him +sleep, and go to sleep yourself. You can physic him in the morning if he needs +it.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying I stumbled off to my bedroom, and throwing myself upon the couch was +soon in a dreamless slumber. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"></a> +CHAPTER XII.<br /> +OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEN UPON THE COAST</h2> + +<p> +It must have been eleven or twelve o'clock before I awoke, and it seemed to me +in the flood of golden light which streamed into my chamber that the wild, +tumultuous episodes of the night before must have formed part of some fantastic +dream. +</p> + +<p> +It was hard to believe that the gentle breeze which whispered so softly among +the ivy-leaves around my window was caused by the same element which had shaken +the very house a few short hours before. It was as if Nature had repented of +her momentary passion and was endeavouring to make amends to an injured world +by its warmth and its sunshine. A chorus of birds in the garden below filled +the whole air with their wonder and congratulations. +</p> + +<p> +Down in the hall I found a number of the shipwrecked sailors, looking all the +better for their night's repose, who set up a buzz of pleasure and gratitude +upon seeing me. +</p> + +<p> +Arrangements had been made to drive them to Wigtown, whence they were to +proceed to Glasgow by the evening train, and my father had given orders that +each should be served with a packet of sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs to +sustain him on the way. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Meadows thanked us warmly in the name of his employers for the manner +in which we had treated them, and he called for three cheers from his crew, +which were very heartily given. He and the mate walked down with us after we +had broken our fast to have a last look at the scene of the disaster. +</p> + +<p> +The great bosom of the bay was still heaving convulsively, and its waves were +breaking into sobs against the rocks, but there was none of that wild turmoil +which we had seen in the early morning. The long, emerald ridges, with their +little, white crests of foam, rolled slowly and majestically in, to break with +a regular rhythm—the panting of a tired monster. +</p> + +<p> +A cable length from the shore we could see the mainmast of the barque floating +upon the waves, disappearing at times in the trough of the sea, and then +shooting up towards Heaven like a giant javelin, shining and dripping as the +rollers tossed it about. Other smaller pieces of wreckage dotted the waters, +while innumerable spars and packages were littered over the sands. These were +being drawn up and collected in a place of safety by gangs of peasants. I +noticed that a couple of broad-winged gulls were hovering and skimming over the +scene of the shipwreck, as though many strange things were visible to them +beneath the waves. At times we could hear their raucous voices as they cried to +one another of what they saw. +</p> + +<p> +“She was a leaky old craft,” said the captain, looking sadly out to +sea, “but there's always a feeling of sorrow when we see the last of a +ship we have sailed in. Well, well, she would have been broken up in any case, +and sold for firewood.” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks a peaceful scene,” I remarked. “Who would imagine +that three men lost their lives last night in those very waters?” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor fellows,” said the captain, with feeling. “Should they +be cast up after our departure, I am sure, Mr. West, that you will have them +decently interred.” +</p> + +<p> +I was about to make some reply when the mate burst into a loud guffaw, slapping +his thigh and choking with merriment. +</p> + +<p> +“If you want to bury them,” he said, “you had best look +sharp, or they may clear out of the country. You remember what I said last +night? Just look at the top of that 'ere hillock, and tell me whether I was in +the right or not?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a high sand dune some little distance along the coast, and upon the +summit of this the figure was standing which had attracted the mate's +attention. The captain threw up his hands in astonishment as his eyes rested +upon it. +</p> + +<p> +“By the eternal,” he shouted, “it's Ram Singh himself! Let us +overhaul him!” +</p> + +<p> +Taking to his heels in his excitement he raced along the beach, followed by the +mate and myself, as well as by one or two of the fishermen who had observed the +presence of the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +The latter, perceiving our approach, came down from his post of observation and +walked quietly in our direction, with his head sunk upon his breast, like one +who is absorbed in thought. +</p> + +<p> +I could not help contrasting our hurried and tumultuous advance with the +gravity and dignity of this lonely Oriental, nor was the matter mended when he +raised a pair of steady, thoughtful dark eyes and inclined his head in a +graceful, sweeping salutation. It seemed to me that we were like a pack of +schoolboys in the presence of a master. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger's broad, unruffled brow, his clear, searching gaze, firm-set yet +sensitive mouth, and clean-cut, resolute expression, all combined to form the +most imposing and noble presence which I had ever known. I could not have +imagined that such imperturbable calm and at the same time such a consciousness +of latent strength could have been expressed by any human face. +</p> + +<p> +He was dressed in a brown velveteen coat, loose, dark trousers, with a shirt +that was cut low in the collar, so as to show the muscular, brown neck, and he +still wore the red fez which I had noticed the night before. +</p> + +<p> +I observed with a feeling of surprise, as we approached him, that none of these +garments showed the slightest indication of the rough treatment and wetting +which they must have received during their wearer's submersion and struggle to +the shore. +</p> + +<p> +“So you are none the worse for your ducking,” he said in a +pleasant, musical voice, looking from the captain to the mate. “I hope +that your poor sailors have found pleasant quarters.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are all safe,” the captain answered. “But we had given +you up for lost—you and your two friends. Indeed, I was just making +arrangements for your burial with Mr. West here.” +</p> + +<p> +The stranger looked at me and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“We won't give Mr. West that trouble for a little time yet,” he +remarked; “my friends and I came ashore all safe, and we have found +shelter in a hut a mile or so along the coast. It is lonely down there, but we +have everything which we can desire.” +</p> + +<p> +“We start for Glasgow this afternoon,” said the captain; “I +shall be very glad if you will come with us. If you have not been in England +before you may find it awkward travelling alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are very much indebted to you for your thoughtfulness,” Ram +Singh answered; “but we will not take advantage of your kind offer. Since +Nature has driven us here we intend to have a look about us before we +leave.” +</p> + +<p> +“As you like,” the captain said, shrugging his shoulders. “I +don't think you are likely to find very much to interest you in this hole of a +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very possibly not,” Ram Singh answered with an amused smile. +“You remember Milton's lines: +</p> + +<div class="poetry"><div class="poem"> +'The mind is its own place, and in itself<br /> +Can make a hell of Heaven, a heaven of Hell.' +</div></div> + +<p> +I dare say we can spend a few days here comfortably enough. Indeed, I think you +must be wrong in considering this to be a barbarous locality. I am much +mistaken if this young gentleman's father is not Mr. James Hunter West, whose +name is known and honoured by the pundits of India.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father is, indeed, a well-known Sanscrit scholar,” I answered +in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“The presence of such a man,” observed the stranger slowly, +“changes a wilderness into a city. One great mind is surely a higher +indication of civilisation than are incalculable leagues of bricks and mortar. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father is hardly so profound as Sir William Jones, or so universal +as the Baron Von Hammer-Purgstall, but he combines many of the virtues of each. +You may tell him, however, from me that he is mistaken in the analogy which he +has traced between the Samoyede and Tamulic word roots.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you have determined to honour our neighbourhood by a short +stay,” said I, “you will offend my father very much if you do not +put up with him. He represents the laird here, and it is the laird's privilege, +according to our Scottish custom, to entertain all strangers of repute who +visit this parish.” +</p> + +<p> +My sense of hospitality prompted me to deliver this invitation, though I could +feel the mate twitching at my sleeves as if to warn me that the offer was, for +some reason, an objectionable one. His fears were, however, unnecessary, for +the stranger signified by a shake of the head that it was impossible for him to +accept it. +</p> + +<p> +“My friends and I are very much obliged to you,” he said, +“but we have our own reasons for remaining where we are. The hut which we +occupy is deserted and partly ruined, but we Easterns have trained ourselves to +do without most of those things which are looked upon as necessaries in Europe, +believing firmly in that wise axiom that a man is rich, not in proportion to +what he has, but in proportion to what he can dispense with. A good fisherman +supplies us with bread and with herbs, we have clean, dry straw for our +couches; what could man wish for more?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must feel the cold at night, coming straight from the +tropics,” remarked the captain. “Perhaps our bodies are cold +sometimes. We have not noticed it. We have all three spent many years in the +Upper Himalayas on the border of the region of eternal snow, so we are not very +sensitive to inconveniences of the sort.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least,” said I, “you must allow me to send you over some +fish and some meat from our larder.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not Christians,” he answered, “but Buddhists of the +higher school. We do not recognise that man has a moral right to slay an ox or +a fish for the gross use of his body. He has not put life into them, and has +assuredly no mandate from the Almighty to take life from them save under most +pressing need. We could not, therefore, use your gift if you were to send +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, sir,” I remonstrated, “if in this changeable and +inhospitable climate you refuse all nourishing food your vitality will fail +you—you will die.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall die then,” he answered, with an amused smile. “And +now, Captain Meadows, I must bid you adieu, thanking you for your kindness +during the voyage, and you, too, good-bye—you will command a ship of your +own before the year is out. I trust, Mr. West, that I may see you again before +I leave this part of the country. Farewell!” +</p> + +<p> +He raised his red fez, inclined his noble head with the stately grace which +characterised all his actions, and strode away in the direction from which he +had come. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me congratulate you, Mr. Hawkins,” said the captain to the +mate as we walked homewards. “You are to command your own ship within the +year.” +</p> + +<p> +“No such luck!” the mate answered, with a pleased smile upon his +mahogany face, “still, there's no saying how things may come out. What +d'ye think of him, Mr. West?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said I, “I am very much interested in him. What a +magnificent head and bearing he has for a young man. I suppose he cannot be +more than thirty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Forty,” said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Sixty, if he is a day,” remarked Captain Meadows. “Why, I +have heard him talk quite familiarly of the first Afghan war. He was a man +then, and that is close on forty years ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful!” I ejaculated. “His skin is as smooth and his +eyes are as clear as mine are. He is the superior priest of the three, no +doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +“The inferior,” said the captain confidently. “That is why he +does all the talking for them. Their minds are too elevated to descend to mere +worldly chatter.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are the strangest pieces of flotsam and jetsam that were ever +thrown upon this coast,” I remarked. “My father will be mightily +interested in them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I think the less you have to do with them the better for +you,” said the mate. “If I do command my own ship I'll promise you +that I never carry live stock of that sort on board of her. But here we are all +aboard and the anchor tripped, so we must bid you good-bye.” +</p> + +<p> +The wagonette had just finished loading up when we arrived, and the chief +places, on either side of the driver, had been reserved for my two companions, +who speedily sprang into them. With a chorus of cheers the good fellows whirled +away down the road, while my father, Esther, and I stood upon the lawn and +waved our hands to them until they disappeared behind the Cloomber woods, <i>en +route</i> for the Wigtown railway station. Barque and crew had both vanished +now from our little world, the only relic of either being the heaps of +<i>débris</i> upon the beach, which were to lie there until the arrival of an +agent from Lloyd's. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"></a> +CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +IN WHICH I SEE THAT WHICH HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW</h2> + +<p> +At dinner that evening I mentioned to my father the episode of the three +Buddhist priests, and found, as I had expected, that he was very much +interested by my account of them. +</p> + +<p> +When, however, he heard of the high manner in which Ram Singh had spoken of +him, and the distinguished position which he had assigned him among +philologists, he became so excited that it was all we could do to prevent him +from setting off then and there to make his acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +Esther and I were relieved and glad when we at last succeeded in abstracting +his boots and manoeuvring him to his bedroom, for the exciting events of the +last twenty-four hours had been too much for his weak frame and delicate +nerves. +</p> + +<p> +I was sitting at the open porch in the gloaming, turning over in my mind the +unexpected events which had occurred so rapidly—the gale, the wreck, the +rescue, and the strange character of the castaways—when my sister came +quietly over to me and put her hand in mine. +</p> + +<p> +“Don't you think, Jack,” she said, in her low, sweet voice, +“that we are forgetting our friends over at Cloomber? Hasn't all this +excitement driven their fears and their danger out of our heads?” +</p> + +<p> +“Out of our heads, but never out of our hearts,” said I, laughing. +“However, you are right, little one, for our attention has certainly been +distracted from them. I shall walk up in the morning and see if I can see +anything of them. By the way, to-morrow is the fateful 5th of October—one +more day, and all will be well with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or ill,” said my sister gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what a little croaker you are, to be sure!” I cried. +“What in the world is coming over you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I feel nervous and low-spirited,” she answered, drawing closer to +my side and shivering. “I feel as if some great peril were hanging over +the heads of those we love. Why should these strange men wish to stay upon the +coast?” +</p> + +<p> +“What, the Buddhists?” I said lightly. “Oh, these fellows +have continual feast-days and religious rites of all sorts. They have some very +good reason for staying, you may be sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don't you think,” said Esther, in an awe-struck whisper, +“that it is very strange that these priests should arrive here all the +way from India just at the present moment? Have you not gathered from all you +have heard that the general's fears are in some way connected with India and +the Indians?” +</p> + +<p> +The remark made me thoughtful. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, now that you mention it,” I answered, “I have some +vague impression that the mystery is connected with some incident which +occurred in that country. I am sure, however, that your fears would vanish if +you saw Ram Singh. He is the very personification of wisdom and benevolence. He +was shocked at the idea of our killing a sheep, or even a fish for his +benefit—said he would rather die than have a hand in taking the life of +an animal.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very foolish of me to be so nervous,” said my sister +bravely. “But you must promise me one thing, Jack. You will go up to +Cloomber in the morning, and if you can see any of them you must tell them of +these strange neighbours of ours. They are better able to judge than we are +whether their presence has any significance or not.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, little one,” I answered, as we went indoors. “You +have been over-excited by all these wild doings, and you need a sound night's +rest to compose you. I'll do what you suggest, however, and our friends shall +judge for themselves whether these poor fellows should be sent about their +business or not.” +</p> + +<p> +I made the promise to allay my sister's apprehensions, but in the bright +sunlight of morning it appeared less than absurd to imagine that our poor +vegetarian castaways could have any sinister intentions, or that their advent +could have any effect upon the tenant of Cloomber. +</p> + +<p> +I was anxious, myself, however, to see whether I could see anything of the +Heatherstones, so after breakfast I walked up to the Hall. In their seclusion +it was impossible for them to have learnt anything of the recent events. I +felt, therefore, that even if I should meet the general he could hardly regard +me as an intruder while I had so much news to communicate. +</p> + +<p> +The place had the same dreary and melancholy appearance which always +characterised it. Looking through between the thick iron bars of the main +gateway there was nothing to be seen of any of the occupants. One of the great +Scotch firs had been blown down in the gale, and its long, ruddy trunk lay +right across the grass-grown avenue; but no attempt had been made to remove it. +</p> + +<p> +Everything about the property had the same air of desolation and neglect, with +the solitary exception of the massive and impenetrable fencing, which presented +as unbroken and formidable an obstacle as ever to the would-be trespasser. +</p> + +<p> +I walked round this barrier as far as our old trysting-place without finding +any flaw through which I could get a glimpse of the house, for the fence had +been repaired with each rail overlapping the last, so as to secure absolute +privacy for those inside, and to block those peep-holes which I had formerly +used. +</p> + +<p> +At the old spot, however, where I had had the memorable interview with the +general on the occasion when he surprised me with his daughter, I found that +the two loose rails had been refixed in such a manner that there was a gap of +two inches or more between them. +</p> + +<p> +Through this I had a view of the house and of part of the lawn in front of it, +and, though I could see no signs of life outside or at any of the windows, I +settled down with the intention of sticking to my post until I had a chance of +speaking to one or other of the inmates. Indeed, the cold, dead aspect of the +house had struck such a chill into my heart that I determined to scale the +fence at whatever risk of incurring the general's displeasure rather than +return without news of the Heatherstones. +</p> + +<p> +Happily there was no need of this extreme expedient, for I had not been there +half-an-hour before I heard the harsh sound of an opening lock, and the general +himself emerged from the main door. +</p> + +<p> +To my surprise he was dressed in a military uniform, and that not the uniform +in ordinary use in the British Army. The red coat was strangely cut and stained +with the weather. The trousers had originally been white, but had now faded to +a dirty yellow. With a red sash across his chest and a straight sword hanging +from his side, he stood the living example of a bygone type—the John +Company's officer of forty years ago. +</p> + +<p> +He was followed by the ex-tramp, Corporal Rufus Smith, now well-clad and +prosperous, who limped along beside his master, the two pacing up and down the +lawn absorbed in conversation. I observed that from time to time one or other +of them would pause and glance furtively all about them, as though guarding +keenly against a surprise. I should have preferred communicating with the +general alone, but since there was no dissociating him from his companion, I +beat loudly on the fencing with my stick to attract their attention. They both +faced round in a moment, and I could see from their gestures that they were +disturbed and alarmed. +</p> + +<p> +I then elevated my stick above the barrier to show them where the sound +proceeded from. At this the general began to walk in my direction with the air +of a man who is bracing himself up for an effort, but the other caught him by +the wrist and endeavoured to dissuade him. +</p> + +<p> +It was only when I shouted out my name and assured them that I was alone that I +could prevail upon them to approach. Once assured of my identity the general +ran eagerly towards me and greeted me with the utmost cordiality. +</p> + +<p> +“This is truly kind of you, West,” he said. “It is only at +such times as these that one can judge who is a friend and who not. It would +not be fair to you to ask you to come inside or to stay any time, but I am none +the less very glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been anxious about you all,” I said, “for it is some +little time since I have seen or heard from any of you. How have you all been +keeping?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, as well as could be expected. But we will be better +tomorrow—we will be different men to-morrow, eh, Corporal?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said the corporal, raising his hand to his forehead in +a military salute. “We'll be right as the bank to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“The corporal and I are a little disturbed in our minds just now,” +the general explained, “but I have no doubt that all will come right. +After all, there is nothing higher than Providence, and we are all in His +hands. And how have you been, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“We have been very busy for one thing,” said I. “I suppose +you have heard nothing of the great shipwreck?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a word,” the general answered listlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought the noise of the wind would prevent you hearing the signal +guns. She came ashore in the bay the night before last—a great barque +from India.” +</p> + +<p> +“From India!” ejaculated the general. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Her crew were saved, fortunately, and have all been sent on to +Glasgow.” +</p> + +<p> +“All sent on!” cried the general, with a face as bloodless as a +corpse. +</p> + +<p> +“All except three rather strange characters who claim to be Buddhist +priests. They have decided to remain for a few days upon the coast.” +</p> + +<p> +The words were hardly out of my mouth when the general dropped upon his knees +with his long, thin arms extended to Heaven. +</p> + +<p> +“Thy will be done!” he cried in a cracking voice. “Thy +blessed will be done!” +</p> + +<p> +I could see through the crack that Corporal Rufus Smith's face had turned to a +sickly yellow shade, and that he was wiping the perspiration from his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“It's like my luck!” he said. “After all these years, to come +when I have got a snug billet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, my lad,” the general said, rising, and squaring his +shoulders like a man who braces himself up for an effort. “Be it what it +may we'll face it as British soldiers should. D'ye remember at Chillianwallah, +when you had to run from your guns to our square, and the Sikh horse came +thundering down on our bayonets? We didn't flinch then, and we won't flinch +now. It seems to me that I feel better than I have done for years. It was the +uncertainty that was killing me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the infernal jingle-jangle,” said the corporal. “Well, +we all go together—that's some consolation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye, West,” said the general. “Be a good husband to +Gabriel, and give my poor wife a home. I don't think she will trouble you long. +Good-bye! God bless you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, General,” I said, peremptorily breaking off a piece of +wood to make communication more easy, “this sort of thing has been going +on too long. What are these hints and allusions and innuendoes? It is time we +had a little plain speaking. What is it you fear? Out with it! Are you in dread +of these Hindoos? If you are, I am able, on my father's authority, to have them +arrested as rogues and vagabonds.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, that would never do,” he answered, shaking his head. +“You will learn about the wretched business soon enough. Mordaunt knows +where to lay his hand upon the papers bearing on the matter. You can consult +him about it to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely,” I cried, “if the peril is so imminent something +may be done to avert it. If you would but tell me what you fear I should know +how to act.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear friend,” he said, “there is nothing to be done, so +calm yourself, and let things take their course. It has been folly on my part +to shelter myself behind mere barriers of wood and stone. The fact is, that +inaction was terrible to me, and I felt that to do anything, however futile, in +the nature of a precaution, was better than passive resignation. My humble +friend here and I have placed ourselves in a position in which, I trust, no +poor fellow will ever find himself again. We can only recommend ourselves to +the unfailing goodness of the Almighty, and trust that what we have endured in +this world may lessen our atonement in the world to come. I must leave you now, +for I have many papers to destroy and much to arrange. Good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +He pushed his hand through the hole which I had made, and grasped mine in a +solemn farewell, after which he walked back to the Hall with a firm and decided +step, still followed by the crippled and sinister corporal. +</p> + +<p> +I walked back to Branksome much disturbed by this interview, and extremely +puzzled as to what course I should pursue. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident now that my sister's suspicions were correct, and that there was +some very intimate connection between the presence of the three Orientals and +the mysterious peril which hung over the towers of Cloomber. +</p> + +<p> +It was difficult for me to associate the noble-faced Ram Singh's gentle, +refined manner and words of wisdom with any deed of violence, yet now that I +thought of it I could see that a terrible capacity for wrath lay behind his +shaggy brows and dark, piercing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +I felt that of all men whom I had ever met he was the one whose displeasure I +should least care to face. But how could two men so widely dissociated as the +foul-mouthed old corporal of artillery and the distinguished Anglo-Indian +general have each earned the ill-will of these strange castaways? And if the +danger were a positive physical one, why should he not consent to my proposal +to have the three men placed under custody—though I confess it would have +gone much against my grain to act in so inhospitable a manner upon such vague +and shadowy grounds. +</p> + +<p> +These questions were absolutely unanswerable, and yet the solemn words and the +terrible gravity which I had seen in the faces of both the old soldiers forbade +me from thinking that their fears were entirely unfounded. +</p> + +<p> +It was all a puzzle—an absolutely insoluble puzzle. +</p> + +<p> +One thing at least was clear to me—and that was that in the present state +of my knowledge, and after the general's distinct prohibition, it was +impossible for me to interfere in any way. I could only wait and pray that, +whatever the danger might be, it might pass over, or at least that my dear +Gabriel and her brother might be protected against it. +</p> + +<p> +I was walking down the lane lost in thought, and had got as far as the wicket +gate which opens upon the Branksome lawn, when I was surprised to hear my +father's voice raised in most animated and excited converse. +</p> + +<p> +The old man had been of late so abstracted from the daily affairs of the world, +and so absorbed in his own special studies, that it was difficult to engage his +attention upon any ordinary, mundane topic. Curious to know what it was that +had drawn him so far out of himself, I opened the gate softly, and walking +quietly round the laurel bushes, found him sitting, to my astonishment, with +none other than the very man who was occupying my thoughts, Ram Singh, the +Buddhist. +</p> + +<p> +The two were sitting upon a garden bench, and the Oriental appeared to be +laying down some weighty proposition, checking every point upon his long, +quivering, brown fingers, while my father, with his hands thrown abroad and his +face awry, was loud in protestation and in argument. +</p> + +<p> +So absorbed were they in their controversy, that I stood within a hand-touch of +them for a minute or more before they became conscious of my presence. +</p> + +<p> +On observing me the priest sprang to his feet and greeted me with the same +lofty courtesy and dignified grace which had so impressed me the day before. +</p> + +<p> +“I promised myself yesterday,” he said, “the pleasure of +calling upon your father. You see I have kept my word. I have even been daring +enough to question his views upon some points in connection with the Sanscrit +and Hindoo tongues, with the result that we have been arguing for an hour or +more without either of us convincing the other. Without pretending to as deep a +theoretical knowledge as that which has made the name of James Hunter West a +household word among Oriental scholars, I happen to have given considerable +attention to this one point, and indeed I am in a position to say that I know +his views to be unsound. I assure you, sir, that up to the year 700, or even +later, Sanscrit was the ordinary language of the great bulk of the inhabitants +of India.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I assure you, sir,” said my father warmly, “that it was +dead and forgotten at that date, save by the learned, who used it as a vehicle +for scientific and religious works—just as Latin was used in the Middle +Ages long after it had ceased to be spoken by any European nation.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you consult the puranas you will find,” said Ram Singh, +“that this theory, though commonly received, is entirely +untenable.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if you will consult the Ramayana, and more particularly the +canonical books on Buddhist discipline,” cried my father, “you will +find that the theory is unassailable.” +</p> + +<p> +“But look at the Kullavagga,” said our visitor earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +“And look at King Asoka,” shouted my father triumphantly. +“When, in the year 300 before the Christian era—before, mind +you—he ordered the laws of Buddha to be engraved upon the rocks, what +language did he employ, eh? Was it Sanscrit?—no! And why was it not +Sanscrit? Because the lower orders of his subjects would not have been able to +understand a word of it. Ha, ha! That was the reason. How are you going to get +round King Asoka's edicts, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“He carved them in the various dialects,” Ram Singh answered. +“But energy is too precious a thing to be wasted in mere wind in this +style. The sun has passed its meridian, and I must return to my +companions.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry that you have not brought them to see us,” said my +father courteously. He was, I could see, uneasy lest in the eagerness of debate +he had overstepped the bounds of hospitality. +</p> + +<p> +“They do not mix with the world,” Ram Singh answered, rising to his +feet. “They are of a higher grade than I, and more sensitive to +contaminating influences. They are immersed in a six months' meditation upon +the mystery of the third incarnation, which has lasted with few intermissions +from the time that we left the Himalayas. I shall not see you again, Mr. Hunter +West, and I therefore bid you farewell. Your old age will be a happy one, as it +deserves to be, and your Eastern studies will have a lasting effect upon the +knowledge and literature of your own country. Farewell!” +</p> + +<p> +“And am I also to see no more of you?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Unless you will walk with me along the sea-shore,” he answered. +“But you have already been out this morning, and may be tired. I ask too +much of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, I should be delighted to come,” I responded from my heart, +and we set off together, accompanied for some little distance by my father, who +would gladly, I could see, have reopened the Sanscrit controversy, had not his +stock of breath been too limited to allow of his talking and walking at the +same time. +</p> + +<p> +“He is a learned man,” Ram Singh remarked, after we had left him +behind, “but, like many another, he is intolerant towards opinions which +differ from his own. He will know better some day.” +</p> + +<p> +I made no answer to this observation, and we trudged along for a time in +silence, keeping well down to the water's edge, where the sands afforded a good +foothold. +</p> + +<p> +The sand dunes which lined the coast formed a continuous ridge upon our left, +cutting us off entirely from all human observation, while on the right the +broad Channel stretched away with hardly a sail to break its silvery +uniformity. The Buddhist priest and I were absolutely alone with Nature. +</p> + +<p> +I could not help reflecting that if he were really the dangerous man that the +mate affected to consider him, or that might be inferred from the words of +General Heatherstone, I had placed myself completely in his power. +</p> + +<p> +Yet such was the majestic benignity of the man's aspect, and the unruffled +serenity of his deep, dark eyes, that I could afford in his presence to let +fear and suspicion blow past me as lightly as the breeze which whistled round +us. His face might be stern, and even terrible, but I felt that he could never +be unjust. +</p> + +<p> +As I glanced from time to time at his noble profile and the sweep of his +jet-black beard, his rough-spun tweed travelling suit struck me with an almost +painful sense of incongruity, and I re-clothed him in my imagination with the +grand, sweeping Oriental costume which is the fitting and proper frame for such +a picture—the only garb which does not detract from the dignity and grace +of the wearer. +</p> + +<p> +The place to which he led me was a small fisher cottage which had been deserted +some years before by its tenant, but still stood gaunt and bare, with the +thatch partly blown away and the windows and doors in sad disrepair. This +dwelling, which the poorest Scotch beggar would have shrunk from, was the one +which these singular men had preferred to the proffered hospitality of the +laird's house. A small garden, now a mass of tangled brambles, stood round it, +and through this my acquaintance picked his way to the ruined door. He glanced +into the house and then waved his hand for me to follow him. +</p> + +<p> +“You have now an opportunity,” he said, in a subdued, reverential +voice, “of seeing a spectacle which few Europeans have had the privilege +of beholding. Inside that cottage you will find two Yogis—men who are +only one remove from the highest plane of adeptship. They are both wrapped in +an ecstatic trance, otherwise I should not venture to obtrude your presence +upon them. Their astral bodies have departed from them, to be present at the +feast of lamps in the holy Lamasery of Rudok in Tibet. Tread lightly lest by +stimulating their corporeal functions you recall them before their devotions +are completed.” +</p> + +<p> +Walking slowly and on tiptoe, I picked my way through the weed-grown garden, +and peered through the open doorway. +</p> + +<p> +There was no furniture in the dreary interior, nor anything to cover the uneven +floor save a litter of fresh straw in a corner. +</p> + +<p> +Among this straw two men were crouching, the one small and wizened, the other +large-boned and gaunt, with their legs crossed in Oriental fashion and their +heads sunk upon their breasts. Neither of them looked up, or took the smallest +notice of our presence. +</p> + +<p> +They were so still and silent that they might have been two bronze statues but +for the slow and measured rhythm of their breathing. Their faces, however, had +a peculiar, ashen-grey colour, very different from the healthy brown of my +companion's, and I observed, on stooping my head, that only the whites of their +eyes were visible, the balls being turned upwards beneath the lids. +</p> + +<p> +In front of them upon a small mat lay an earthenware pitcher of water and +half-a-loaf of bread, together with a sheet of paper inscribed with certain +cabalistic characters. Ram Singh glanced at these, and then, motioning to me to +withdraw, followed me out into the garden. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not to disturb them until ten o'clock,” he said. “You +have now seen in operation one of the grandest results of our occult +philosophy, the dissociation of spirit from body. Not only are the spirits of +these holy men standing at the present moment by the banks of the Ganges, but +those spirits are clothed in a material covering so identical with their real +bodies that none of the faithful will ever doubt that Lal Hoomi and Mowdar Khan +are actually among them. This is accomplished by our power of resolving an +object into its chemical atoms, of conveying these atoms with a speed which +exceeds that of lightning to any given spot, and of there re-precipitating them +and compelling them to retake their original form. Of old, in the days of our +ignorance, it was necessary to convey the whole body in this way, but we have +since found that it was as easy and more convenient to transmit material enough +merely to build up an outside shell or semblance. This we have termed the +astral body.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you can transmit your spirits so readily,” I observed, +“why should they be accompanied by any body at all?” +</p> + +<p> +“In communicating with brother initiates we are able to employ our +spirits only, but when we wish to come in contact with ordinary mankind it is +essential that we should appear in some form which they can see and +comprehend.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have interested me deeply in all that you have told me,” I +said, grasping the hand which Ram Singh had held out to me as a sign that our +interview was at an end. “I shall often think of our short +acquaintance.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will derive much benefit from it,” he said slowly, still +holding my hand and looking gravely and sadly into my eyes. “You must +remember that what will happen in the future is not necessarily bad because it +does not fall in with your preconceived ideas of right. Be not hasty in your +judgments. There are certain great rules which must be carried out, at whatever +cost to individuals. Their operation may appear to you to be harsh and cruel, +but that is as nothing compared with the dangerous precedent which would be +established by not enforcing them. The ox and the sheep are safe from us, but +the man with the blood of the highest upon his hands should not and shall not +live.” +</p> + +<p> +He threw up his arms at the last words with a fierce, threatening gesture, and, +turning away from me, strode back to the ruined hut. +</p> + +<p> +I stood gazing after him until he disappeared through the doorway, and then +started off for home, revolving in my mind all that I had heard, and more +particularly this last outburst of the occult philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +Far on the right I could see the tall, white tower of Cloomber standing out +clear-cut and sharp against a dark cloud-bank which rose behind it. I thought +how any traveller who chanced to pass that way would envy in his heart the +tenant of that magnificent building, and how little they would guess the +strange terrors, the nameless dangers, which were gathering about his head. The +black cloud-wrack was but the image, I reflected, of the darker, more sombre +storm which was about to burst. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever it all means, and however it happens,” I ejaculated, +“God grant that the innocent be not confounded with the guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +My father, when I reached home, was still in a ferment over his learned +disputation with the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“I trust, Jack,” he said, “that I did not handle him too +roughly. I should remember that I am <i>in loco magistri</i>, and be less prone +to argue with my guests. Yet, when he took up this most untenable position, I +could not refrain from attacking him and hurling him out of it, which indeed I +did, though you, who are ignorant of the niceties of the question, may have +failed to perceive it. You observed, however, that my reference to King Asoka's +edicts was so conclusive that he at once rose and took his leave.” +</p> + +<p> +“You held your own bravely,” I answered, “but what is your +impression of the man now that you have seen him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said my father, “he is one of those holy men who, +under the various names of Sannasis, Yogis, Sevras, Qualanders, Hakims, and +Cufis have devoted their lives to the study of the mysteries of the Buddhist +faith. He is, I take it, a theosophist, or worshipper of the God of knowledge, +the highest grade of which is the adept. This man and his companions have not +attained this high position or they could not have crossed the sea without +contamination. It is probable that they are all advanced chelas who hope in +time to attain to the supreme honour of adeptship.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, father,” interrupted my sister, “this does not explain +why men of such sanctity and attainments should choose to take up their +quarters on the shores of a desolate Scotch bay.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, there you get beyond me,” my father answered. “I may +suggest, however, that it is nobody's business but their own, so long as they +keep the peace and are amenable to the law of the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever heard,” I asked, “that these higher priests of +whom you speak have powers which are unknown to us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Eastern literature is full of it. The Bible is an Eastern book, and +is it not full of the record of such powers from cover to cover? It is +unquestionable that they have in the past known many of Nature's secrets which +are lost to us. I cannot say, however, from my own knowledge that the modern +theosophists really possess the powers that they claim.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are they a vindictive class of people?” I asked. “Is there +any offence among them which can only be expiated by death?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not that I know of,” my father answered, raising his white +eyebrows in surprise. “You appear to be in an inquisitive humour this +afternoon—what is the object of all these questions? Have our Eastern +neighbours aroused your curiosity or suspicion in any way?” +</p> + +<p> +I parried the question as best I might, for I was unwilling to let the old man +know what was in my mind. No good purpose could come from his enlightenment; +his age and his health demanded rest rather than anxiety; and indeed, with the +best will in the world I should have found it difficult to explain to another +what was so very obscure to myself. For every reason I felt that it was best +that he should be kept in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +Never in all my experience had I known a day pass so slowly as did that +eventful 5th of October. In every possible manner I endeavoured to while away +the tedious hours, and yet it seemed as if darkness would never arrive. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to read, I tried to write, I paced about the lawn, I walked to the end +of the lane, I put new flies upon my fishing-hooks, I began to index my +father's library—in a dozen ways I endeavoured to relieve the suspense +which was becoming intolerable. My sister, I could see, was suffering from the +same feverish restlessness. +</p> + +<p> +Again and again our good father remonstrated with us in his mild way for our +erratic behaviour and the continual interruption of his work which arose from +it. +</p> + +<p> +At last, however, the tea was brought, and the tea was taken, the curtains were +drawn, the lamps lit, and after another interminable interval the prayers were +read and the servants dismissed to their rooms. My father compounded and +swallowed his nightly jorum of toddy, and then shuffled off to his room, +leaving the two of us in the parlour with our nerves in a tingle and our minds +full of the most vague and yet terrible apprehensions. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"></a> +CHAPTER XIV.<br /> +OF THE VISITOR WHO RAN DOWN THE ROAD IN THE NIGHT-TIME</h2> + +<p> +It was a quarter past ten o'clock by the parlour timepiece when my father went +off to his room, and left Esther and myself together. We heard his slow steps +dying away up the creaking staircase, until the distant slamming of a door +announced that he had reached his sanctum. +</p> + +<p> +The simple oil lamp upon the table threw a weird, uncertain light over the old +room, flickering upon the carved oak panelling, and casting strange, fantastic +shadows from the high-elbowed, straight-backed furniture. My sister's white, +anxious face stood out in the obscurity with a startling exactness of profile +like one of Rembrandt's portraits. +</p> + +<p> +We sat opposite to each other on either side of the table with no sound +breaking the silence save the measured ticking of the clock and the +intermittent chirping of a cricket beneath the grate. +</p> + +<p> +There was something awe-inspiring in the absolute stillness. The whistling of a +belated peasant upon the high road was a relief to us, and we strained our ears +to catch the last of his notes as he plodded steadily homewards. +</p> + +<p> +At first we had made some pretence—she of knitting and I of +reading—but we soon abandoned the useless deception, and sat uneasily +waiting, starting and glancing at each other with questioning eyes whenever the +faggot crackled in the fire or a rat scampered behind the wainscot. There was a +heavy electrical feeling in the air, which weighed us down with a foreboding of +disaster. +</p> + +<p> +I rose and flung the hall door open to admit the fresh breeze of the night. +Ragged clouds swept across the sky, and the moon peeped out at times between +their hurrying fringes, bathing the whole countryside in its cold, white +radiance. From where I stood in the doorway I could see the edge of the +Cloomber wood, though the house itself was only visible from the rising ground +some little distance off. At my sister's suggestion we walked together, she +with her shawl over her head, as far as the summit of this elevation, and +looked out in the direction of the Hall. +</p> + +<p> +There was no illumination of the windows tonight. From roof to basement not a +light twinkled in any part of the great building. Its huge mass loomed up dark +and sullen amid the trees which surrounded it, looking more like some giant +sarcophagus than a human habitation. +</p> + +<p> +To our overwrought nerves there was something of terror in its mere bulk and +its silence. We stood for some little time peering at it through the darkness, +and then we made our way back to the parlour again, where we sat +waiting—waiting, we knew not for what, and yet with absolute conviction +that some terrible experience was in store for us. +</p> + +<p> +It was twelve o'clock or thereabout when my sister suddenly sprang to her feet +and held up her fingers to bespeak attention. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you hear nothing?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +I strained my ears, but without success. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to the door,” she cried, with a trembling voice. “Now +can you hear anything?” +</p> + +<p> +In the deep silence of the night I distinctly heard a dull, murmuring, +clattering sound, continuous apparently, but very faint and low. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, in a subdued voice. +</p> + +<p> +“It's the sound of a man running towards us,” she answered, and +then, suddenly dropping the last semblance of self-command, she fell upon her +knees beside the table and began praying aloud with that frenzied earnestness +which intense, overpowering fear can produce, breaking off now and again into +half-hysterical whimperings. +</p> + +<p> +I could distinguish the sound clearly enough now to know that her quick, +feminine perception had not deceived her, and that it was indeed caused by a +running man. +</p> + +<p> +On he came, and on down the high road, his footfalls ringing out clearer and +sharper every moment. An urgent messenger he must be, for he neither paused nor +slackened his pace. +</p> + +<p> +The quick, crisp rattle was changed suddenly to a dull, muffled murmur. He had +reached the point where sand had been recently laid down for a hundred yards or +so. In a few moments, however, he was back on hard ground again and his flying +feet came nearer and ever nearer. +</p> + +<p> +He must, I reflected, be abreast of the head of the lane now. Would he hold on? +Or would he turn down to Branksome? +</p> + +<p> +The thought had hardly crossed my mind when I heard by the difference of the +sound that the runner had turned the corner, and that his goal was beyond all +question the laird's house. +</p> + +<p> +Rushing down to the gate of the lawn, I reached it just as our visitor dashed +it open and fell into my arms. I could see in the moonlight that it was none +other than Mordaunt Heatherstone. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?” I cried. “What is amiss, +Mordaunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“My father!” he gasped—“my father!” +</p> + +<p> +His hat was gone, his eyes dilated with terror, and his face as bloodless as +that of a corpse. I could feel that the hands which clasped my arms were +quivering and shaking with emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“You are exhausted,” I said, leading him into the parlour. +“Give yourself a moment's rest before you speak to us. Be calm, man, you +are with your best friends.” +</p> + +<p> +I laid him on the old horsehair sofa, while Esther, whose fears had all flown +to the winds now that something practical was to be done, dashed some brandy +into a tumbler and brought it to him. The stimulant had a marvellous effect +upon him, for the colour began to come back into his pale cheeks and the light +of recognition in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +He sat up and took Esther's hand in both of his, like a man who is waking out +of some bad dream and wishes to assure himself that he is really in safety. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father?” I asked. “What of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gone!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; he is gone; and so is Corporal Rufus Smith. We shall never set eyes +upon them again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But where have they gone?” I cried. “This is unworthy of +you, Mordaunt. What right have we to sit here, allowing our private feelings to +overcome us, while there is a possibility of succouring your father? Up, man! +Let us follow him. Tell me only what direction he took.” +</p> + +<p> +“It's no use,” young Heatherstone answered, burying his face in his +hands. “Don't reproach me, West, for you don't know all the +circumstances. What can we do to reverse the tremendous and unknown laws which +are acting against us? The blow has long been hanging over us, and now it has +fallen. God help us!” +</p> + +<p> +“In Heaven's name tell me what has happened?” said I excitedly. +“We must not yield to despair.” +</p> + +<p> +“We can do nothing until daybreak,” he answered. “We shall +then endeavour to obtain some trace of them. It is hopeless at present.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how about Gabriel and Mrs. Heatherstone?” I asked. “Can +we not bring them down from the Hall at once? Your poor sister must be +distracted with terror.” +</p> + +<p> +“She knows nothing of it,” Mordaunt answered. “She sleeps at +the other side of the house, and has not heard or seen anything. As to my poor +mother, she has expected some such event for so long a time that it has not +come upon her as a surprise. She is, of course, overwhelmed with grief, but +would, I think, prefer to be left to herself for the present. Her firmness and +composure should be a lesson to me, but I am constitutionally excitable, and +this catastrophe coming after our long period of suspense deprived me of my +very reason for a time.” +</p> + +<p> +“If we can do nothing until the morning,” I said, “you have +time to tell us all that has occurred.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will do so,” he answered, rising and holding his shaking hands +to the fire. “You know already that we have had reason for some +time—for many years in fact—to fear that a terrible retribution was +hanging over my father's head for a certain action of his early life. In this +action he was associated with the man known as Corporal Rufus Smith, so that +the fact of the latter finding his way to my father was a warning to us that +the time had come, and that this 5th of October—the anniversary of the +misdeed—would be the day of its atonement. I told you of our fears in my +letter, and, if I am not mistaken, my father also had some conversation with +you, John, upon the subject. When I saw yesterday morning that he had hunted +out the old uniform which he had always retained since he wore it in the Afghan +war, I was sure that the end was at hand, and that our forebodings would be +realised. +</p> + +<p> +“He appeared to be more composed in the afternoon than I have seen him +for years, and spoke freely of his life in India and of the incidents of his +youth. About nine o'clock he requested us to go up to our own rooms, and locked +us in there—a precaution which he frequently took when the dark fit was +upon him. It was always his endeavour, poor soul, to keep us clear of the curse +which had fallen upon his own unfortunate head. Before parting from us he +tenderly embraced my mother and Gabriel, and he afterwards followed me to my +room, where he clasped my hand affectionately and gave into my charge a small +packet addressed to yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“To me?” I interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +“To you. I shall fulfill my commission when I have told you my story. I +conjured him to allow me to sit up with him and share any danger which might +arise, but he implored me with irresistible earnestness not to add to his +troubles by thwarting his arrangements. Seeing that I was really distressing +him by my pertinacity, I at last allowed him to close the door and to turn the +key upon the outside. I shall always reproach myself for my want of firmness. +But what can you do when your own father refuses your assistance or +co-operation? You cannot force yourself upon him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure that you did all you could do,” my sister said. +</p> + +<p> +“I meant to, dear Esther, but, God help me, it was hard to tell what was +right. He left me, and I heard his footsteps die away down the long corridor. +It was then about ten o'clock, or a little after. For a time I paced up and +down the room, and then, carrying the lamp to the head of my bed, I lay down +without undressing, reading St. Thomas a Kempis, and praying from my heart that +the night might pass safely over us. +</p> + +<p> +“I had at last fallen into a troubled sleep when I was suddenly aroused +by a loud, sonorous sound ringing in my ears. I sat up bewildered, but all was +silent again. The lamp was burning low, and my watch showed me that it was +going on to midnight. I blundered to my feet, and was striking a match with the +intention of lighting the candles, when the sharp, vehement cry broke out again +so loud and so clear that it might have been in the very room with me. My +chamber is in the front of the house, while those of my mother and sister are +at the back, so that I am the only one who commands a view of the avenue. +</p> + +<p> +“Rushing to the window I drew the blind aside and looked out. You know +that the gravel-drive opens up so as to form a broad stretch immediately in +front of the house. Just in the centre of this clear space there stood three +men looking up at the house. +</p> + +<p> +“The moon shone full upon them, glistening on their upturned eyeballs, +and by its light I could see that they were swarthy-faced and black-haired, of +a type that I was familiar with among the Sikhs and Afridis. Two of them were +thin, with eager, aesthetic countenances, while the third was kinglike and +majestic, with a noble figure and flowing beard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ram Singh!” I ejaculated. +</p> + +<p> +“What, you know of them?” exclaimed Mordaunt in great surprise. +“You have met them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know of them. They are Buddhist priests,” I answered, “but +go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“They stood in a line,” he continued, “sweeping their arms +upwards and downwards, while their lips moved as if repeating some prayer or +incantation. Suddenly they ceased to gesticulate, and broke out for the third +time into the wild, weird, piercing cry which had roused me from my slumber. +Never shall I forget that shrill, dreadful summons swelling and reverberating +through the silent night with an intensity of sound which is still ringing in +my ears. +</p> + +<p> +“As it died slowly away, there was a rasping and creaking as of keys and +bolts, followed by the clang of an opening door and the clatter of hurrying +feet. From my window I saw my father and Corporal Rufus Smith rush frantically +out of the house hatless and unkempt, like men who are obeying a sudden and +overpowering impulse. The three strangers laid no hands on them, but all five +swept swiftly away down the avenue and vanished among the trees. I am positive +that no force was used, or constraint of any visible kind, and yet I am as sure +that my poor father and his companion were helpless prisoners as if I had seen +them dragged away in manacles. +</p> + +<p> +“All this took little time in the acting. From the first summons which +disturbed my sleep to the last shadowy glimpse which I had of them between the +tree trunks could hardly have occupied more than five minutes of actual time. +So sudden was it, and so strange, that when the drama was over and they were +gone I could have believed that it was all some terrible nightmare, some +delusion, had I not felt that the impression was too real, too vivid, to be +imputed to fancy. +</p> + +<p> +“I threw my whole weight against my bedroom door in the hope of forcing +the lock. It stood firm for a while, but I flung myself upon it again and +again, until something snapped and I found myself in the passage. +</p> + +<p> +“My first thought was for my mother. I rushed to her room and turned the +key in her door. The moment that I did so she stepped out into the corridor in +her dressing-gown, and held up a warning finger. +</p> + +<p> +“'No noise,' she said, 'Gabriel is asleep. They have been called away?' +</p> + +<p> +“'They have,' I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“'God's will be done!' she cried. 'Your poor father will be happier in +the next world than he has ever been in this. Thank Heaven that Gabriel is +asleep. I gave her chloral in her cocoa.' +</p> + +<p> +“'What am I to do?' I said distractedly. +</p> + +<p> +“'Where have they gone? How can I help him? We cannot let him go from us +like this, or leave these men to do what they will with him. Shall I ride into +Wigtown and arouse the police?' +</p> + +<p> +“'Anything rather than that,' my mother said earnestly. 'He has begged me +again and again to avoid it. My son, we shall never set eyes upon your father +again. You may marvel at my dry eyes, but if you knew as I know the peace which +death would bring him, you could not find it in your heart to mourn for him. +All pursuit is, I feel, vain, and yet some pursuit there must be. Let it be as +private as possible. We cannot serve him better than by consulting his wishes.' +</p> + +<p> +“'But every minute is precious,' I cried. 'Even now he may be calling +upon us to rescue him from the clutches of those dark-skinned fiends.' +</p> + +<p> +“The thought so maddened me that I rushed out of the house and down to +the high road, but once there I had no indication in which direction to turn. +The whole wide moor lay before me, without a sign of movement upon its broad +expanse. I listened, but not a sound broke the perfect stillness of the night. +</p> + +<p> +“It was then, my dear friends, as I stood, not knowing in which direction +to turn, that the horror and responsibility broke full upon me. I felt that I +was combating against forces of which I knew nothing. All was strange and dark +and terrible. +</p> + +<p> +“The thought of you, and of the help which I might look for from your +advice and assistance, was a beacon of hope to me. At Branksome, at least, I +should receive sympathy, and, above all, directions as to what I should do, for +my mind is in such a whirl that I cannot trust my own judgment. My mother was +content to be alone, my sister asleep, and no prospect of being able to do +anything until daybreak. Under those circumstances what more natural than that +I should fly to you as fast as my feet would carry me? You have a clear head, +Jack; speak out, man, and tell me what I should do. Esther, what should I +do?” +</p> + +<p> +He turned from one to the other of us with outstretched hands and eager, +questioning eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You can do nothing while the darkness lasts,” I answered. +“We must report the matter to the Wigtown police, but we need not send +our message to them until we are actually starting upon the search, so as to +comply with the law and yet have a private investigation, as your mother +wishes. John Fullarton, over the hill, has a lurcher dog which is as good as a +bloodhound. If we set him on the general's trail he will run him down if he had +to follow him to John o' Groat's.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is terrible to wait calmly here while he may need our +assistance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear our assistance could under any circumstances do him little good. +There are forces at work here which are beyond human intervention. Besides, +there is no alternative. We have, apparently, no possible clue as to the +direction which they have taken, and for us to wander aimlessly over the moor +in the darkness would be to waste the strength which may be more profitably +used in the morning. It will be daylight by five o'clock. In an hour or so we +can walk over the hill together and get Fullarton's dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“Another hour!” Mordaunt groaned, “every minute seems an +age.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lie down on the sofa and rest yourself,” said I. “You cannot +serve your father better than by laying up all the strength you can, for we may +have a weary trudge before us. But you mentioned a packet which the general had +intended for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is here,” he answered, drawing a small, flat parcel from his +pocket and handing it over to me, “you will find, no doubt, that it will +explain all which has been so mysterious.” +</p> + +<p> +The packet was sealed at each end with black wax, bearing the impress of the +flying griffin, which I knew to be the general's crest. It was further secured +by a band of broad tape, which I cut with my pocket-knife. Across the outside +was written in bold handwriting: “J. Fothergill West, Esq.,” and +underneath: “To be handed to that gentleman in the event of the +disappearance or decease of Major-General J. B. Heatherstone, V.C., C.B., late +of the Indian Army.” +</p> + +<p> +So at last I was to know the dark secret which had cast a shadow over our +lives. Here in my hands I held the solution of it. +</p> + +<p> +With eager fingers I broke the seals and undid the wrapper. A note and a small +bundle of discoloured paper lay within. I drew the lamp over to me and opened +the former. It was dated the preceding afternoon, and ran in this way: +</p> +<p>  </p> +<p> +<span class="smcap">My Dear West</span>,— +</p> + +<p> +I should have satisfied your very natural curiosity on the subject which we +have had occasion to talk of more than once, but I refrained for your own sake. +I knew by sad experience how unsettling and unnerving it is to be for ever +waiting for a catastrophe which you are convinced must befall, and which you +can neither avert nor accelerate. +</p> + +<p> +Though it affects me specially, as being the person most concerned, I am still +conscious that the natural sympathy which I have observed in you, and your +regard for Gabriel's father, would both combine to render you unhappy if you +knew the hopelessness and yet the vagueness of the fate which threatens me. I +feared to disturb your mind, and I was therefore silent, though at some cost to +myself, for my isolation has not been the least of the troubles which have +weighed me down. +</p> + +<p> +Many signs, however, and chief among them the presence of the Buddhists upon +the coast as described by you this morning, have convinced me that the weary +waiting is at last over and that the hour of retribution is at hand. Why I +should have been allowed to live nearly forty years after my offence is more +than I can understand, but it is possible that those who had command over my +fate know that such a life is the greatest of all penalties to me. +</p> + +<p> +Never for an hour, night or day, have they suffered me to forget that they have +marked me down as their victim. Their accursed astral bell has been ringing my +knell for two-score years, reminding me ever that there is no spot upon earth +where I can hope to be in safety. Oh, the peace, the blessed peace of +dissolution! Come what may on the other side of the tomb, I shall at least be +quit of that thrice terrible sound. +</p> + +<p> +There is no need for me to enter into the wretched business again, or to detail +at any length the events of October 5th, 1841, and the various circumstances +which led up to the death of Ghoolab Shah, the arch adept. +</p> + +<p> +I have torn a sheaf of leaves from my old journal, in which you will find a +bald account of the matter, and an independent narrative was furnished by Sir +Edward Elliott, of the Artillery, to the Star of India some years ago—in +which, however, the names were suppressed. +</p> + +<p> +I have reason to believe that many people, even among those who knew India +well, thought that Sir Edward was romancing, and that he had evolved his +incidents from his imagination. The few faded sheets which I send you will show +you that this is not the case, and that our men of science must recognise +powers and laws which can and have been used by man, but which are unknown to +European civilisation. +</p> + +<p> +I do not wish to whine or to whimper, but I cannot help feeling that I have had +hard measure dealt me in this world. I would not, God knows, take the life of +any man, far less an aged one, in cold blood. My temper and nature, however, +were always fiery and headstrong, and in action when my blood is up, I have no +knowledge of what I am about. Neither the corporal nor I would have laid a +finger upon Ghoolab Shah had we not seen that the tribesmen were rallying +behind him. Well, well, it is an old story now, and there is no profit in +discussing it. May no other poor fellow ever have the same evil fortune! +</p> + +<p> +I have written a short supplement to the statements contained in my journal for +your information and that of any one else who may chance to be interested in +the matter. +</p> + +<p> +And now, adieu! Be a good husband to Gabriel, and, if your sister be brave +enough to marry into such a devil-ridden family as ours, by all means let her +do so. I have left enough to keep my poor wife in comfort. +</p> + +<p> +When she rejoins me I should wish it to be equally divided between the +children. If you hear that I am gone, do not pity, but congratulate +</p> + +<p class="c"> +Your unfortunate friend, +</p> + +<p class="r"><span class="smcap"> +John Berthier Heatherstone.</span> +</p> +<p>  </p> +<p> +I threw aside the letter and picked up the roll of blue foolscap which +contained the solution of the mystery. It was all ragged and frayed at the +inner edge, with traces of gum and thread still adhering to it, to show that it +had been torn out of a strongly bound volume. The ink with which it had been +written was faded somewhat, but across the head of the first page was inscribed +in bold, clear characters, evidently of later date than the rest: +“Journal of Lieutenant J. B. Heatherstone in the Thull Valley during the +autumn of 1841,” and then underneath: +</p> + +<p> +This extract contains some account of the events of the first week of October +of that year, including the skirmish of the Terada ravine and the death of the +man Ghoolab Shah. +</p> + +<p> +I have the narrative lying before me now, and I copy it verbatim. If it +contains some matter which has no direct bearing upon the question at issue, I +can only say that I thought it better to publish what is irrelevant than by +cutting and clipping to lay the whole statement open to the charge of having +been tampered with. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"></a> +CHAPTER XV.<br /> +THE DAY-BOOK OF JOHN BERTHIER HEATHERSTONE</h2> + +<p> +Thull Valley, Oct. 1, 1841.—The Fifth Bengal and Thirty-third Queen's +passed through this morning on their way to the Front. Had tiffin with the +Bengalese. Latest news from home that two attempts had been made on the Queen's +life by semi-maniacs named Francis and Bean. +</p> + +<p> +It promises to be a hard winter. The snow-line has descended a thousand feet +upon the peaks, but the passes will be open for weeks to come, and, even if +they were blocked, we have established so many depots in the country that +Pollock and Nott will have no difficulty in holding their own. They shall not +meet with the fate of Elphinstone's army. One such tragedy is enough for a +century. +</p> + +<p> +Elliott of the Artillery, and I, are answerable for the safety of the +communications for a distance of twenty miles or more, from the mouth of the +valley to this side of the wooden bridge over the Lotar. Goodenough, of the +Rifles, is responsible on the other side, and Lieutenant-Colonel Sidney Herbert +of the Engineers, has a general supervision over both sections. +</p> + +<p> +Our force is not strong enough for the work which has to be done. I have a +company and a half of our own regiment, and a squadron of Sowars, who are of no +use at all among the rocks. Elliott has three guns, but several of his men are +down with cholera, and I doubt if he has enough to serve more than two. +</p> + +<p> +(Note: capsicum for cholera—tried it) +</p> + +<p> +On the other hand, each convoy is usually provided with some guard of its own, +though it is often absurdly inefficient. These valleys and ravines which branch +out of the main pass are alive with Afridis and Pathans, who are keen robbers +as well as religious fanatics. I wonder they don't swoop down on some of our +caravans. They could plunder them and get back to their mountain fastnesses +before we could interfere or overtake them. Nothing but fear will restrain +them. +</p> + +<p> +If I had my way I would hang one at the mouth of every ravine as a warning to +the gang. They are personifications of the devil to look at, hawk-nosed, +full-lipped, with a mane of tangled hair, and most Satanic sneer. No news today +from the Front. +</p> + +<p> +October 2.—I must really ask Herbert for another company at the very +least. I am convinced that the communications would be cut off if any serious +attack were made upon us. +</p> + +<p> +Now, this morning two urgent messages were sent me from two different points +more than sixteen miles apart, to say that there were signs of a descent of the +tribes. +</p> + +<p> +Elliott, with one gun and the Sowars, went to the farther ravine, while I, with +the infantry, hurried to the other, but we found it was a false alarm. I saw no +signs of the Hillmen, and though we were greeted by a splutter of jezail +bullets we were unable to capture any of the rascals. +</p> + +<p> +Woe betide them if they fall into my hands. I would give them as short a shrift +as ever a Highland cateran got from a Glasgow judge. These continued alarms may +mean nothing or they may be an indication that the Hillmen are assembling and +have some plan in view. +</p> + +<p> +We have had no news from the Front for some time, but to-day a convoy of +wounded came through with the intelligence that Nott had taken Ghuznee. I hope +he warmed up any of the black rascals that fell into his hands. +</p> + +<p> +No word of Pollock. +</p> + +<p> +An elephant battery came up from the Punjab, looking in very good condition. +There were several convalescents with it going up to rejoin their regiments. +Knew none of them except Mostyn of the Hussars and young Blakesley, who was my +fag at Charterhouse, and whom I have never seen since. +</p> + +<p> +Punch and cigars <i>al fresco</i> up to eleven o'clock. +</p> + +<p> +Letters to-day from Wills & Co. about their little bill forwarded on from +Delhi. Thought a campaign freed a man from these annoyances. Wills says in his +note that, since his written applications have been in vain, he must call upon +me in person. If he calls upon me now he will assuredly be the boldest and most +persevering of tailors. +</p> + +<p> +A line from Calcutta Daisy and another from Hobhouse to say that Matilda comes +in for all the money under the will. I am glad of it. +</p> + +<p> +October 3.—Glorious news from the Front today. Barclay, of the Madras +Cavalry, galloped through with dispatches. Pollock entered Cabul triumphantly +on the 16th of last month, and, better still, Lady Sale has been rescued by +Shakespear, and brought safe into the British camp, together with the other +hostages. <i>Te Deum laudamus!</i> +</p> + +<p> +This should end the whole wretched business—this and the sack of the +city. I hope Pollock won't be squeamish, or truckle to the hysterical party at +home. The towns should be laid in ashes and the fields sown with salt. Above +all, the Residency and the Palace must come down. So shall Burnes, McNaghten, +and many another gallant fellow know that his countrymen could avenge if they +could not save him! +</p> + +<p> +It is hard when others are gaining glory and experience to be stuck in this +miserable valley. I have been out of it completely, bar a few petty skirmishes. +However, we may see some service yet. +</p> + +<p> +A jemidar of ours brought in a Hillman today, who says that the tribes are +massing in the Terada ravine, ten miles to the north of us, and intend +attacking the next convoy. We can't rely on information of this sort, but there +may prove to be some truth in it. Proposed to shoot our informant, so as to +prevent his playing the double traitor and reporting our proceedings. Elliott +demurred. +</p> + +<p> +If you are making war you should throw no chance away. I hate half-and-half +measures. The Children of Israel seem to have been the only people who ever +carried war to its logical conclusion—except Cromwell in Ireland. Made a +compromise at last by which the man is to be detained as a prisoner and +executed if his information prove to be false. I only hope we get a fair chance +of showing what we can do. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt these fellows at the Front will have C.B.'s and knighthoods showering +upon them thick and fast, while we poor devils, who have had most of the +responsibility and anxiety, will be passed over completely. Elliott has a +whitlow. +</p> + +<p> +The last convoy left us a large packet of sauces, but as they forgot to leave +anything to eat with them, we have handed them over to the Sowars, who drink +them out of their pannikins as if they were liqueurs. We hear that another +large convoy may be expected from the plains in the course of a day or two. +Took nine to four on Cleopatra for the Calcutta Cup. +</p> + +<p> +October 4.—The Hillmen really mean business this time, I think. We have +had two of our spies come in this morning with the same account about the +gathering in the Terada quarter. That old rascal Zemaun is at the head of it, +and I had recommended the Government to present him with a telescope in return +for his neutrality! There will be no Zemaun to present it to if I can but lay +hands upon him. +</p> + +<p> +We expect the convoy tomorrow morning, and need anticipate no attack until it +comes up, for these fellows fight for plunder, not for glory, though, to do +them justice, they have plenty of pluck when they get started. I have devised +an excellent plan, and it has Elliott's hearty support. By Jove! if we can only +manage it, it will be as pretty a ruse as ever I heard of. +</p> + +<p> +Our intention is to give out that we are going down the valley to meet the +convoy and to block the mouth of a pass from which we profess to expect an +attack. Very good. We shall make a night-march to-night and reach their camp. +Once there I shall conceal my two hundred men in the waggons and travel up with +the convoy again. +</p> + +<p> +Our friends the enemy, having heard that we intended to go south, and seeing +the caravan going north without us, will naturally swoop down upon it under the +impression that we are twenty miles away. We shall teach them such a lesson +that they would as soon think of stopping a thunderbolt as of interfering again +with one of Her Britannic Majesty's provision trains. I am all on thorns to be +off. +</p> + +<p> +Elliott has rigged up two of his guns so ingeniously that they look more like +costermongers' barrows than anything else. To see artillery ready for action in +the convoy might arouse suspicion. The artillerymen will be in the waggons next +the guns, all ready to unlimber and open fire. Infantry in front and rear. Have +told our confidential and discreet Sepoy servants the plan which we do not +intend to adopt. N.B.—If you wish a thing to be noised over a whole +province always whisper it under a vow of secrecy to your confidential native +servant. +</p> + +<p> +8.45 P.M.—Just starting for the convoy. May luck go with us! +</p> + +<p> +October 5.—Seven o'clock in the evening. <i>Io triumphe!</i> Crown us +with laurel—Elliott and myself! Who can compare with us as vermin +killers? +</p> + +<p> +I have only just got back, tired and weary, stained with blood and dust, but I +have sat down before either washing or changing to have the satisfaction of +seeing our deeds set forth in black and white—if only in my private log +for no eye but my own. I shall describe it all fully as a preparation for an +official account, which must be drawn up when Elliott gets back. Billy Dawson +used to say that there were three degrees of comparison—a prevarication, +a lie, and an official account. We at least cannot exaggerate our success, for +it would be impossible to add anything to it. +</p> + +<p> +We set out, then, as per programme, and came upon the camp near the head of the +valley. They had two weak companies of the 54th with them who might no doubt +have held their own with warning, but an unexpected rush of wild Hillmen is a +very difficult thing to stand against. With our reinforcements, however, and on +our guard, we might defy the rascals. +</p> + +<p> +Chamberlain was in command—a fine young fellow. We soon made him +understand the situation, and were all ready for a start by daybreak though his +waggons were so full that we were compelled to leave several tons of fodder +behind in order to make room for my Sepoys and for the artillery. +</p> + +<p> +About five o'clock we inspanned, to use an Africanism, and by six we were well +on our way, with our escort as straggling and unconcerned as possible—as +helpless-looking a caravan as ever invited attack. +</p> + +<p> +I could soon see that it was to be no false alarm this time, and that the +tribes really meant business. +</p> + +<p> +From my post of observation, under the canvas screens of one of the waggons, I +could make out turbaned heads popping up to have a look at us from among the +rocks, and an occasional scout hurrying northward with the news of our +approach. +</p> + +<p> +It was not, however, until we came abreast of the Terada Pass, a gloomy defile +bounded by gigantic cliffs, that the Afridis began to show in force, though +they had ambushed themselves so cleverly that, had we not been keenly on the +look-out for them, we might have walked right into the trap. As it was, the +convoy halted, upon which the Hillmen, seeing that they were observed, opened a +heavy but ill-directed fire upon us. +</p> + +<p> +I had asked Chamberlain to throw out his men in skirmishing order, and to give +them directions to retreat slowly upon the waggons so as to draw the Afridis +on. The ruse succeeded to perfection. +</p> + +<p> +As the redcoats steadily retired, keeping behind cover as much as possible, the +enemy followed them up with yells of exultation, springing from rock to rock, +waving their jezails in the air, and howling like a pack of demons. +</p> + +<p> +With their black, contorted, mocking faces, their fierce gestures, and their +fluttering garments, they would have made a study for any painter who wished to +portray Milton's conception of the army of the damned. +</p> + +<p> +From every side they pressed in until, seeing, as they thought, nothing between +them and victory, they left the shelter of the rocks and came rushing down, a +furious, howling throng, with the green banner of the Prophet in their van. +</p> + +<p> +Now was our chance, and gloriously we utilised it. +</p> + +<p> +From every cranny and slit of the waggons came a blaze of fire, every shot of +which told among the close-packed mob. Two or three score rolled over like +rabbits and the rest reeled for a moment, and then, with their chiefs at their +head, came on again in a magnificent rush. +</p> + +<p> +It was useless, however, for undisciplined men to attempt to face such a +well-directed fire. The leaders were bowled over, and the others, after +hesitating for a few moments, turned and made for the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +It was our turn now to assume the offensive. The guns were unlimbered and grape +poured into them, while our little infantry force advanced at the double, +shooting and stabbing all whom they overtook. +</p> + +<p> +Never had I known the tide of battle turn so rapidly and so decisively. The +sullen retreat became a flight, and the flight a panic-stricken rout, until +there was nothing left of the tribesmen except a scattered, demoralised rabble +flying wildly to their native fastnesses for shelter and protection. +</p> + +<p> +I was by no means inclined to let them off cheaply now that I had them in my +power. On the contrary, I determined to teach them such a lesson that the sight +of a single scarlet uniform would in future be a passport in itself. +</p> + +<p> +We followed hard upon the track of the fugitives and entered the Terada defile +at their very heels. Having detached Chamberlain and Elliott with a company on +either side to protect my wings, I pushed on with my Sepoys and a handful of +artillerymen, giving the enemy no time to rally or to recover themselves. We +were so handicapped, however, by our stiff European uniforms and by our want of +practice in climbing, that we should have been unable to overtake any of the +mountaineers had it not been for a fortunate accident. +</p> + +<p> +There is a smaller ravine which opens into the main pass, and in their hurry +and confusion some of the fugitives rushed down this. I saw sixty or seventy of +them turn down, but I should have passed them by and continued in pursuit of +the main body had not one of my scouts come rustling up to inform me that the +smaller ravine was a <i>cul-de-sac</i>, and that the Afridis who had gone up it +had no possible means of getting out again except by cutting their way through +our ranks. +</p> + +<p> +Here was an opportunity of striking terror into the tribes. Leaving Chamberlain +and Elliott to continue the pursuit of the main body, I wheeled my Sepoys into +the narrow path and proceeded slowly down it in extended order, covering the +whole ground from cliff to cliff. Not a jackal could have passed us unseen. The +rebels were caught like rats in a trap. +</p> + +<p> +The defile in which we found ourselves was the most gloomy and majestic that I +have ever seen. On either side naked precipices rose sheer up for a thousand +feet or more, converging upon each other so as to leave a very narrow slit of +daylight above us, which was further reduced by the feathery fringe of palm +trees and aloes which hung over each lip of the chasm. +</p> + +<p> +The cliffs were not more than a couple of hundred yards apart at the entrance, +but as we advanced they grew nearer and nearer, until a half company in close +order could hardly march abreast. +</p> + +<p> +A sort of twilight reigned in this strange valley, and the dim, uncertain light +made the great, basalt rocks loom up vague and fantastic. There was no path, +and the ground was most uneven, but I pushed on briskly, cautioning my fellows +to have their fingers on their triggers, for I could see that we were nearing +the point where the two cliffs would form an acute angle with each other. +</p> + +<p> +At last we came in sight of the place. A great pile of boulders was heaped up +at the very end of the pass, and among these our fugitives were skulking, +entirely demoralised apparently, and incapable of resistance. They were useless +as prisoners, and it was out of the question to let them go, so there was no +choice but to polish them off. +</p> + +<p> +Waving my sword, I was leading my men on, when we had a most dramatic +interruption of a sort which I have seen once or twice on the boards of Drury +Lane, but never in real life. +</p> + +<p> +In the side of the cliff, close to the pile of stones where the Hillmen were +making their last stand, there was a cave which looked more like the lair of +some wild beast than a human habitation. +</p> + +<p> +Out of this dark archway there suddenly emerged an old man—such a very, +very old man that all the other veterans whom I have seen were as chickens +compared with him. His hair and beard were both as white as snow, and each +reached more than half-way to his waist. His face was wrinkled and brown and +ebony, a cross between a monkey and a mummy, and so thin and emaciated were his +shrivelled limbs that you would hardly have given him credit for having any +vitality left, were it not for his eyes, which glittered and sparkled with +excitement, like two diamonds in a setting of mahogany. +</p> + +<p> +This apparition came rushing out of the cave, and, throwing himself between the +fugitives and our fellows, motioned us back with as imperious a sweep of the +hand as ever an emperor used to his slaves. +</p> + +<p> +“Men of blood,” he cried, in a voice of thunder, speaking excellent +English, too—“this is a place for prayer and meditation, not for +murder. Desist, lest the wrath of the gods fall upon you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stand aside, old man,” I shouted. “You will meet with a hurt +if you don't get out of the way.” +</p> + +<p> +I could see that the Hillmen were taking heart, and that some of my Sepoys were +flinching, as if they did not relish this new enemy. Clearly, I must act +promptly if I wished to complete our success. +</p> + +<p> +I dashed forward at the head of the white artillerymen who had stuck to me. The +old fellow rushed at us with his arms out as if to stop us, but it was not time +to stick at trifles, so I passed my sword through his body at the same moment +that one of the gunners brought his carbine down upon his head. He dropped +instantly, and the Hillmen, at the sight of his fall, set up the most unearthly +howl of horror and consternation. +</p> + +<p> +The Sepoys, who had been inclined to hang back, came on again the moment he was +disposed of, and it did not take us long to consummate our victory. Hardly a +man of the enemy got out of the defile alive. +</p> + +<p> +What could Hannibal or Caesar have done more? Our own loss in the whole affair +has been insignificant—three killed and about fifteen wounded. Got their +banner, a green wisp of a thing with a sentence of the Koran engraved upon it. +</p> + +<p> +I looked, after the action, for the old chap, but his body had disappeared, +though how or whither I have no conception. His blood be upon his own head! He +would be alive now if he had not interfered, as the constables say at home, +“with an officer in the execution of his duty.” +</p> + +<p> +The scouts tell me that his name was Ghoolab Shah, and that he was one of the +highest and holiest of the Buddhists. He had great fame in the district as a +prophet and worker of miracles—hence the hubbub when he was cut down. +They tell me that he was living in this very cave when Tamerlane passed this +way in 1399, with a lot more bosh of that sort. +</p> + +<p> +I went into the cave, and how any man could live in it a week is a mystery to +me, for it was little more than four feet high, and as damp and dismal a grotto +as ever was seen. A wooden settle and a rough table were the sole furniture, +with a lot of parchment scrolls with hieroglyphics. +</p> + +<p> +Well, he has gone where he will learn that the gospel of peace and good will is +superior to all his Pagan lore. Peace go with him. +</p> + +<p> +Elliott and Chamberlain never caught the main body—I knew they +wouldn't—so the honours of the day rest with me. I ought to get a step +for it, anyhow, and perhaps, who knows? some mention in the <i>Gazette</i>. +What a lucky chance! I think Zemaun deserves his telescope after all for giving +it to me. Shall have something to eat now, for I am half starved. Glory is an +excellent thing, but you cannot live upon it. +</p> + +<p> +October 6, 11 A.M.—Let me try to set down as calmly and as accurately as +I can all that occurred last night. I have never been a dreamer or a visionary, +so I can rely upon my own senses, though I am bound to say that if any other +fellow had told me the same thing I should have doubted him. I might even have +suspected that I was deceived at the time had I not heard the bell since. +However, I must narrate what happened. +</p> + +<p> +Elliott was in my tent with me having a quiet cheroot until about ten o'clock. +I then walked the rounds with my jemidar, and having seen that all was right I +turned in a little before eleven. +</p> + +<p> +I was just dropping off to sleep, for I was dog-tired after the day's work, +when I was aroused by some slight noise, and, looking round, I saw a man +dressed in Asiatic costume standing at the entrance of my tent. He was +motionless when I saw him, and he had his eyes fixed upon me with a solemn and +stern expression. +</p> + +<p> +My first thought was that the fellow was some Ghazi or Afghan fanatic who had +stolen in with the intention of stabbing me, and with this idea in my mind I +had all the will to spring from my couch and defend myself, but the power was +unaccountably lacking. +</p> + +<p> +An overpowering languor and want of energy possessed me. Had I seen the dagger +descending upon my breast I could not have made an effort to avert it. I +suppose a bird when it is under the influence of a snake feels very much as I +did in the presence of this gloomy-faced stranger. My mind was clear enough, +but my body was as torpid as though I were still asleep. +</p> + +<p> +I shut my eyes once or twice and tried to persuade myself that the whole thing +was a delusion, but every time that I opened them there was the man still +regarding me with the same stony, menacing stare. +</p> + +<p> +The silence became unendurable. I felt that I must overcome my languor so far +as to address him. I am not a nervous man, and I never knew before what Virgil +meant when he wrote “adhoesit faucibus ora.” At last I managed to +stammer out a few words, asking the intruder who he was and what he wanted. +</p> + +<p> +“Lieutenant Heatherstone,” he answered, speaking slowly and +gravely, “you have committed this day the foulest sacrilege and the +greatest crime which it is possible for man to do. You have slain one of the +thrice blessed and reverend ones, an arch adept of the first degree, an elder +brother who has trod the higher path for more years than you have numbered +months. You have cut him off at a time when his labours promised to reach a +climax and when he was about to attain a height of occult knowledge which would +have brought man one step nearer to his Creator. All this you have done without +excuse, without provocation, at a time when he was pleading the cause of the +helpless and distressed. Listen now to me, John Heatherstone. +</p> + +<p> +“When first the occult sciences were pursued many thousands of years ago, +it was found by the learned that the short tenure of human existence was too +limited to allow a man to attain the loftiest heights of inner life. The +inquirers of those days directed their energies in the first place, therefore, +to the lengthening of their own days in order that they might have more scope +for improvement. +</p> + +<p> +“By their knowledge of the secret laws of Nature they were enabled to +fortify their bodies against disease and old age. It only remained to protect +themselves against the assaults of wicked and violent men who are ever ready to +destroy what is wiser and nobler than themselves. There was no direct means by +which this protection could be effected, but it was in some measure attained by +arranging the occult forces in such a way that a terrible and unavoidable +retribution should await the offender. +</p> + +<p> +“It was irrevocably ordained by laws which cannot be reversed that any +one who should shed the blood of a brother who had attained a certain degree of +sanctity should be a doomed man. Those laws are extant to this day, John +Heatherstone, and you have placed yourself in their power. King or emperor +would be helpless before the forces which you have called into play. What hope, +then, is there for you? +</p> + +<p> +“In former days these laws acted so instantaneously that the slayer +perished with his victim. It was judged afterwards that this prompt retribution +prevented the offender from having time to realise the enormity of his offence. +</p> + +<p> +“It was therefore ordained that in all such cases the retribution should +be left in the hands of the <i>chelas</i>, or immediate disciples of the holy +man, with power to extend or shorten it at their will, exacting it either at +the time or at any future anniversary of the day when the crime was committed. +</p> + +<p> +“Why punishment should come on those days only it does not concern you to +know. Suffice it that you are the murderer of Ghoolab Shah, the thrice blessed, +and that I am the senior of his three <i>chelas</i> commissioned to avenge his +death. +</p> + +<p> +“It is no personal matter between us. Amid our studies we have no leisure +or inclination for personal matters. It is an immutable law, and it is as +impossible for us to relax it as it is for you to escape from it. Sooner or +later we shall come to you and claim your life in atonement for the one which +you have taken. +</p> + +<p> +“The same fate shall be meted out to the wretched soldier, Smith, who, +though less guilty than yourself, has incurred the same penalty by raising his +sacrilegious hand against the chosen of Buddha. If your life is prolonged, it +is merely that you may have time to repent of your misdeed and to feel the full +force of your punishment. +</p> + +<p> +“And lest you should be tempted to cast it out of your mind and to forget +it, our bell—our astral bell, the use of which is one of our occult +secrets—shall ever remind you of what have been and what is to be. You +shall hear it by day and you shall hear it by night, and it will be a sign to +you that do what you may and go where you will, you can never shake yourself +clear of the <i>chelas</i> of Ghoolab Shah. +</p> + +<p> +“You will never see me more, accursed one, until the day when we come for +you. Live in fear, and in that anticipation which is worse than death.” +</p> + +<p> +With a menacing wave of the hand the figure turned and swept out of my tent +into the darkness. The instant that the fellow disappeared from my sight I +recovered from my lethargy which had fallen upon me. Springing to my feet, I +rushed to the opening and looked out. A Sepoy sentry was standing leaning upon +his musket, a few paces off. +</p> + +<p> +“You dog,” I said in Hindustani. “What do you mean by letting +people disturb me in this way?” +</p> + +<p> +The man stared at me in amazement. “Has any one disturbed the +sahib?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“This instant—this moment. You must have seen him pass out of my +tent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely the Burra Sahib is mistaken,” the man answered, +respectfully but firmly. “I have been here for an hour, and no one has +passed from the tent.” +</p> + +<p> +Puzzled and disconcerted, I was sitting by the side of my couch wondering +whether the whole thing were a delusion, brought on by the nervous excitement +of our skirmish, when a new marvel overtook me. From over my head there +suddenly sounded a sharp, tinkling sound, like that produced by an empty glass +when flipped by the nail, only louder and more intense. +</p> + +<p> +I looked up, but nothing was to be seen. I examined the whole interior of the +tent carefully, but without discovering any cause for the strange sound. At +last, worn out with fatigue, I gave the mystery up, and throwing myself on the +couch was soon fast asleep. +</p> + +<p> +When I awoke this morning I was inclined to put the whole of my yesternight's +experiences down to imagination, but I was soon disabused of the idea, for I +had hardly risen before the same strange sound was repeated in my very ear as +loudly, and to all appearance as causelesly, as before. What it is or where it +comes from I cannot conceive. I have not heard it since. +</p> + +<p> +Can the fellow's threats have something in them and this be the warning bell of +which he spoke? Surely it is impossible. Yet his manner was indescribably +impressive. +</p> + +<p> +I have tried to set down what he said as accurately as I can, but I fear I have +omitted a good deal. What is to be the end of this strange affair? I must go in +for a course of religion and holy water. Not a word to Chamberlain or Elliott. +They tell me I am looking like a ghost this morning. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Evening</i>.—Have managed to compare notes with Gunner Rufus Smith of +the Artillery, who knocked the old fellow over with the butt of his gun. His +experience has been the same as mine. He has heard the sound, too. What is the +meaning of it all? My brain is in a whirl. +</p> + +<p> +Oct. 10 (four days later).—God help us! +</p> + +<p> +This last laconic entry terminated the journal. It seemed to me that, coming as +it did after four days' complete silence, it told a clearer tale of shaken +nerve and a broken spirit than could any more elaborate narrative. Pinned on to +the journal was a supplementary statement which had evidently been recently +added by the general. +</p> + +<p> +“From that day to this,” it said, “I have had no night or day +free from the intrusion of that dreadful sound with its accompanying train of +thought. Time and custom have brought me no relief, but on the contrary, as the +years pass over my head my physical strength decreases and my nerves become +less able to bear up against the continual strain. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a broken man in mind and body. I live in a state of tension, always +straining my ears for the hated sound, afraid to converse with my fellows for +fear of exposing my dreadful condition to them, with no comfort or hope of +comfort on this side of the grave. I should be willing, Heaven knows, to die, +and yet as each 5th of October comes round, I am prostrated with fear because I +do not know what strange and terrible experience may be in store for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Forty years have passed since I slew Ghoolab Shah, and forty times I +have gone through all the horrors of death, without attaining the blessed peace +which lies beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no means of knowing in what shape my fate will come upon me. I +have immured myself in this lonely country, and surrounded myself with +barriers, because in my weaker moments my instincts urge me to take some steps +for self-protection, but I know well in my heart how futile it all is. They +must come quickly now, for I grow old, and Nature will forestall them unless +they make haste. +</p> + +<p> +“I take credit to myself that I have kept my hands off the prussic-acid +or opium bottle. It has always been in my power to checkmate my occult +persecutors in that way, but I have ever held that a man in this world cannot +desert his post until he has been relieved in due course by the authorities. I +have had no scruples, however, about exposing myself to danger, and, during the +Sikh and Sepoy wars, I did all that a man could do to court Death. He passed me +by, however, and picked out many a young fellow to whom life was only opening +and who had everything to live for, while I survived to win crosses and honours +which had lost all relish for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, these things cannot depend upon chance, and there is no +doubt some deep reason for it all. +</p> + +<p> +“One compensation Providence has made me in the shape of a true and +faithful wife, to whom I told my dreadful secret before the wedding, and who +nobly consented to share my lot. She has lifted half the burden from my +shoulders, but with the effect, poor soul, of crushing her own life beneath its +weight! +</p> + +<p> +“My children, too, have been a comfort to me. Mordaunt knows all, or +nearly all. Gabriel we have endeavoured to keep in the dark, though we cannot +prevent her from knowing that there is something amiss. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like this statement to be shown to Dr. John Easterling of +Stranraer. He heard on one occasion this haunting sound. My sad experience may +show him that I spoke truth when I said that there was much knowledge in the +world which has never found its way to England. +</p> + +<p> +“J. B. HEATHERSTONE.” +</p> + +<p> +It was going on for dawn by the time that I had finished this extraordinary +narrative, to which my sister and Mordaunt Heatherstone listened with the most +absorbed attention. Already we could see through the window that the stars had +begun to fade and a grey light to appear in the east. The crofter who owned the +lurcher dog lived a couple of miles off, so it was time for us to be on foot. +Leaving Esther to tell my father the story in such fashion as she might, we +thrust some food in our pockets and set off upon our solemn and eventful +errand. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"></a> +CHAPTER XVI.<br /> +AT THE HOLE OF CREE</h2> + +<p> +It was dark enough when we started to make it no easy matter to find our way +across the moors, but as we advanced it grew lighter and lighter, until by the +time we reached Fullarton's cabin it was broad daylight. +</p> + +<p> +Early as it was, he was up and about, for the Wigtown peasants are an early +rising race. We explained our mission to him in as few words as possible, and +having made his bargain—what Scot ever neglected that +preliminary?—he agreed not only to let us have the use of his dog but to +come with us himself. +</p> + +<p> +Mordaunt, in his desire for privacy, would have demurred at this arrangement, +but I pointed out to him that we had no idea what was in store for us, and the +addition of a strong, able-bodied man to our party might prove to be of the +utmost consequence. +</p> + +<p> +Again, the dog was less likely to give us trouble if we had its master to +control it. My arguments carried the day, and the biped accompanied us as well +as his four-footed companion. +</p> + +<p> +There was some little similarity between the two, for the man was a +towsy-headed fellow with a great mop of yellow hair and a straggling beard, +while the dog was of the long-haired, unkempt breed looking like an animated +bundle of oakum. +</p> + +<p> +All our way to the Hall its owner kept retailing instances of the creature's +sagacity and powers of scent, which, according to his account, were little less +than miraculous. His anecdotes had a poor audience, I fear, for my mind was +filled with the strange story which I had been reading, while Mordaunt strode +on with wild eyes and feverish cheeks, without a thought for anything but the +problem which we had to solve. +</p> + +<p> +Again and again as we topped an eminence I saw him look eagerly round him in +the faint hope of seeing some trace of the absentee, but over the whole expanse +of moorland there was no sign of movement or of life. All was dead and silent +and deserted. +</p> + +<p> +Our visit to the Hall was a very brief one, for every minute now was of +importance. Mordaunt rushed in and emerged with an old coat of his father's, +which he handed to Fullarton, who held it out to the dog. +</p> + +<p> +The intelligent brute sniffed at it all over, then ran whining a little way +down the avenue, came back to sniff the coat again, and finally elevating its +stump of a tail in triumph, uttered a succession of sharp yelps to show that it +was satisfied that it had struck the trail. Its owner tied a long cord to its +collar to prevent it from going too fast for us, and we all set off upon our +search, the dog tugging and straining at its leash in its excitement as it +followed in the general's footsteps. +</p> + +<p> +Our way lay for a couple of hundred yards along the high road, and then passed +through a gap in the hedge and on to the moor, across which we were led in a +bee-line to the northward. +</p> + +<p> +The sun had by this time risen above the horizon, and the whole countryside +looked so fresh and sweet, from the blue, sparkling sea to the purple +mountains, that it was difficult to realise how weird and uncanny was the +enterprise upon which we were engaged. +</p> + +<p> +The scent must have lain strongly upon the ground, for the dog never hesitated +nor stopped, dragging its master along at a pace which rendered conversation +impossible. +</p> + +<p> +At one place, in crossing a small stream, we seemed to get off the trail for a +few minutes, but our keen-nosed ally soon picked it up on the other side and +followed it over the trackless moor, whining and yelping all the time in its +eagerness. Had we not all three been fleet of foot and long of wind, we could +not have persisted in the continuous, rapid journey over the roughest of +ground, with the heather often well-nigh up to our waists. +</p> + +<p> +For my own part, I have no idea now, looking back, what goal it was which I +expected to reach at the end of our pursuit. I can remember that my mind was +full of the vaguest and most varying speculations. +</p> + +<p> +Could it be that the three Buddhists had had a craft in readiness off the +coast, and had embarked with their prisoners for the East? The direction of +their track seemed at first to favour this supposition, for it lay in the line +of the upper end of the bay, but it ended by branching off and striking +directly inland. Clearly the ocean was not to be our terminus. +</p> + +<p> +By ten o'clock we had walked close upon twelve miles, and were compelled to +call a halt for a few minutes to recover our breath, for the last mile or two +we had been breasting the long, wearying slope of the Wigtown hills. +</p> + +<p> +From the summit of this range, which is nowhere more than a thousand feet in +height, we could see, looking northward, such a scene of bleakness and +desolation as can hardly be matched in any country. +</p> + +<p> +Right away to the horizon stretched the broad expanse of mud and of water, +mingled and mixed together in the wildest chaos, like a portion of some world +in the process of formation. Here and there on the dun-coloured surface of this +great marsh there had burst out patches of sickly yellow reeds and of livid, +greenish scum, which only served to heighten and intensify the gloomy effect of +the dull, melancholy expanse. +</p> + +<p> +On the side nearest to us some abandoned peat-cuttings showed that ubiquitous +man had been at work there, but beyond these few petty scars there was no sign +anywhere of human life. Not even a crow nor a seagull flapped its way over that +hideous desert. +</p> + +<p> +This is the great Bog of Cree. It is a salt-water marsh formed by an inroad of +the sea, and so intersected is it with dangerous swamps and treacherous +pitfalls of liquid mud, that no man would venture through it unless he had the +guidance of one of the few peasants who retain the secret of its paths. +</p> + +<p> +As we approached the fringe of rushes which marked its border, a foul, dank +smell rose up from the stagnant wilderness, as from impure water and decaying +vegetation—an earthy, noisome smell which poisoned the fresh upland air. +</p> + +<p> +So forbidding and gloomy was the aspect of the place that our stout crofter +hesitated, and it was all that we could do to persuade him to proceed. Our +lurcher, however, not being subject to the delicate impressions of our higher +organisation, still ran yelping along with its nose on the ground and every +fibre of its body quivering with excitement and eagerness. +</p> + +<p> +There was no difficulty about picking our way through the morass, for wherever +the five could go we three could follow. +</p> + +<p> +If we could have had any doubts as to our dog's guidance they would all have +been removed now, for in the soft, black, oozing soil we could distinctly trace +the tracks of the whole party. From these we could see that they had walked +abreast, and, furthermore, that each was about equidistant from the other. +Clearly, then, no physical force had been used in taking the general and his +companion along. The compulsion had been psychical and not material. +</p> + +<p> +Once within the swamp, we had to be careful not to deviate from the narrow +track, which offered a firm foothold. +</p> + +<p> +On each side lay shallow sheets of stagnant water overlying a treacherous +bottom of semi-fluid mud, which rose above the surface here and there in moist, +sweltering banks, mottled over with occasional patches of unhealthy vegetation. +Great purple and yellow fungi had broken out in a dense eruption, as though +Nature were afflicted with a foul disease, which manifested itself by this crop +of plague spots. +</p> + +<p> +Here and there dark, crab-like creatures scuttled across our path, and hideous, +flesh-coloured worms wriggled and writhed amid the sickly reeds. Swarms of +buzzing, piping insects rose up at every step and formed a dense cloud around +our heads, settling on our hands and faces and inoculating us with their filthy +venom. Never had I ventured into so pestilent and forbidding a place. +</p> + +<p> +Mordaunt Heatherstone strode on, however, with a set purpose upon his swarthy +brow, and we could but follow him, determined to stand by him to the end of the +adventure. As we advanced, the path grew narrower and narrower until, as we saw +by the tracks, our predecessors had been compelled to walk in single file. +Fullarton was leading us with the dog, Mordaunt behind him, while I brought up +the rear. The peasant had been sulky and surly for a little time back, hardly +answering when spoken to, but he now stopped short and positively refused to go +a step farther. +</p> + +<p> +“It's no' canny,” he said, “besides I ken where it will lead +us tae.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where, then?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Tae the Hole o' Cree,” he answered. “It's no far frae here, +I'm thinking.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Hole of Cree! What is that, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“It's a great, muckle hole in the ground that gangs awa' doon so deep +that naebody could ever reach the bottom. Indeed there are folk wha says that +it's just a door leadin' intae the bottomless pit itsel'.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have been there, then?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Been there!” he cried. “What would I be doin' at the Hole o' +Cree? No, I've never been there, nor any other man in his senses.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know about it, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“My great-grandfeyther had been there, and that's how I ken,” +Fullarton answered. “He was fou' one Saturday nicht and he went for a +bet. He didna like tae talk aboot it afterwards, and he wouldna tell a' what +befell him, but he was aye feared o' the very name. He's the first Fullarton +that's been at the Hole o' Cree, and he'll be the last for me. If ye'll tak' my +advice ye'll just gie the matter up and gang hame again, for there's na guid +tae be got oot o' this place.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall go on with you or without you,” Mordaunt answered. +“Let us have your dog and we can pick you up on our way back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Na, na,” he cried, “I'll no' hae my dog scaret wi' bogles, +and running down Auld Nick as if he were a hare. The dog shall bide wi' +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dog shall go with us,” said my companion, with his eyes +blazing. “We have no time to argue with you. Here's a five-pound note. +Let us have the dog, or, by Heaven, I shall take it by force and throw you in +the bog if you hinder us.” +</p> + +<p> +I could realise the Heatherstone of forty years ago when I saw the fierce and +sudden wrath which lit up the features of his son. +</p> + +<p> +Either the bribe or the threat had the desired effect, for the fellow grabbed +at the money with one hand while with the other he surrendered the leash which +held the lurcher. Leaving him to retrace his steps, we continued to make our +way into the utmost recesses of the great swamp. +</p> + +<p> +The tortuous path grew less and less defined as we proceeded, and was even +covered in places with water, but the increasing excitement of the hound and +the sight of the deep footmarks in the mud stimulated us to push on. At last, +after struggling through a grove of high bulrushes, we came on a spot the +gloomy horror of which might have furnished Dante with a fresh terror for his +“Inferno.” +</p> + +<p> +The whole bog in this part appeared to have sunk in, forming a great, +funnel-shaped depression, which terminated in the centre in a circular rift or +opening about forty feet in diameter. It was a whirlpool—a perfect +maelstrom of mud, sloping down on every side to this silent and awful chasm. +</p> + +<p> +Clearly this was the spot which, under the name of the Hole of Cree, bore such +a sinister reputation among the rustics. I could not wonder at its impressing +their imagination, for a more weird or gloomy scene, or one more worthy of the +avenue which led to it, could not be conceived. +</p> + +<p> +The steps passed down the declivity which surrounded the abyss, and we followed +them with a sinking feeling in our hearts, as we realised that this was the end +of our search. +</p> + +<p> +A little way from the downward path was the return trail made by the feet of +those who had come back from the chasm's edge. Our eyes fell upon these tracks +at the same moment, and we each gave a cry of horror, and stood gazing +speechlessly at them. For there, in those blurred footmarks, the whole drama +was revealed. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Five had gone down, but only three had returned</i>. +</p> + +<p> +None shall ever know the details of that strange tragedy. There was no mark of +struggle nor sign of attempt at escape. We knelt at the edge of the Hole and +endeavoured to pierce the unfathomable gloom which shrouded it. A faint, sickly +exhalation seemed to rise from its depths, and there was a distant hurrying, +clattering sound as of waters in the bowels of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +A great stone lay embedded in the mud, and this I hurled over, but we never +heard thud or splash to show that it had reached the bottom. +</p> + +<p> +As we hung over the noisome chasm a sound did at last rise to our ears out of +its murky depths. High, clear, and throbbing, it tinkled for an instant out of +the abyss, to be succeeded by the same deadly stillness which had preceded it. +</p> + +<p> +I did not wish to appear superstitious, or to put down to extraordinary causes +that which may have a natural explanation. That one keen note may have been +some strange water sound produced far down in the bowels of the earth. It may +have been that or it may have been that sinister bell of which I had heard so +much. Be this as it may, it was the only sign that rose to us from the last +terrible resting-place of the two who had paid the debt which had so long been +owing. +</p> + +<p> +We joined our voices in a call with the unreasoning obstinacy with which men +will cling to hope, but no answer came back to us save a hollow moaning from +the depths beneath. Footsore and heart-sick, we retraced our steps and climbed +the slimy slope once more. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall we do, Mordaunt?” I asked, in a subdued voice. +“We can but pray that their souls may rest in peace.” +</p> + +<p> +Young Heatherstone looked at me with flashing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“This may be all according to occult laws,” he cried, “but we +shall see what the laws of England have to say upon it. I suppose a +<i>chela</i> may be hanged as well as any other man. It may not be too late yet +to run them down. Here, good dog, good dog--here!” +</p> + +<p> +He pulled the hound over and set it on the track of the three men. The creature +sniffed at it once or twice, and then, falling upon its stomach, with bristling +hair and protruding tongue, it lay shivering and trembling, a very embodiment +of canine terror. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” I said, “it is no use contending against those who +have powers at their command to which we cannot even give a name. There is +nothing for it but to accept the inevitable, and to hope that these poor men +may meet with some compensation in another world for all that they have +suffered in this.” +</p> + +<p> +“And be free from all devilish religions and their murderous +worshippers!” Mordaunt cried furiously. +</p> + +<p> +Justice compelled me to acknowledge in my own heart that the murderous spirit +had been set on foot by the Christian before it was taken up by the Buddhists, +but I forbore to remark upon it, for fear of irritating my companion. +</p> + +<p> +For a long time I could not draw him away from the scene of his father's death, +but at last, by repeated arguments and reasonings, I succeeded in making him +realise how useless and unprofitable any further efforts on our part must +necessarily prove, and in inducing him to return with me to Cloomber. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, the wearisome, tedious journey! It had seemed long enough when we had some +slight flicker of hope, or at least of expectation, before us, but now that our +worst fears were fulfilled it appeared interminable. +</p> + +<p> +We picked up our peasant guide at the outskirts of the marsh, and having +restored his dog we let him find his own way home, without telling him anything +of the results of our expedition. We ourselves plodded all day over the moors +with heavy feet and heavier hearts until we saw the ill-omened tower of +Cloomber, and at last, as the sun was setting, found ourselves once more +beneath its roof. +</p> + +<p> +There is no need for me to enter into further details, nor to describe the +grief which our tidings conveyed to mother and to daughter. Their long +expectation of some calamity was not sufficient to prepare them for the +terrible reality. +</p> + +<p> +For weeks my poor Gabriel hovered between life and death, and though she came +round at last, thanks to the nursing of my sister and the professional skill of +Dr. John Easterling, she has never to this day entirely recovered her former +vigour. Mordaunt, too, suffered much for some time, and it was only after our +removal to Edinburgh that he rallied from the shock which he had undergone. +</p> + +<p> +As to poor Mrs. Heatherstone, neither medical attention nor change of air can +ever have a permanent effect upon her. Slowly and surely, but very placidly, +she has declined in health and strength, until it is evident that in a very few +weeks at the most she will have rejoined her husband and restored to him the +one thing which he must have grudged to leave behind. +</p> + +<p> +The Laird of Branksome came home from Italy restored in health, with the result +that we were compelled to return once more to Edinburgh. +</p> + +<p> +The change was agreeable to us, for recent events had cast a cloud over our +country life and had surrounded us with unpleasant associations. Besides, a +highly honourable and remunerative appointment in connection with the +University library had become vacant, and had, through the kindness of the late +Sir Alexander Grant, been offered to my father, who, as may be imagined, lost +no time in accepting so congenial a post. +</p> + +<p> +In this way we came back to Edinburgh very much more important people than we +left it, and with no further reason to be uneasy about the details of +housekeeping. But, in truth, the whole household has been dissolved, for I have +been married for some months to my dear Gabriel, and Esther is to become Mrs. +Heatherstone upon the 23rd of the month. If she makes him as good a wife as his +sister has made me, we may both set ourselves down as fortunate men. +</p> + +<p> +These mere domestic episodes are, as I have already explained, introduced only +because I cannot avoid alluding to them. +</p> + +<p> +My object in drawing up this statement and publishing the evidence which +corroborates it, was certainly not to parade my private affairs before the +public, but to leave on record an authentic narrative of a most remarkable +series of events. This I have endeavoured to do in as methodical a manner as +possible, exaggerating nothing and suppressing nothing. +</p> + +<p> +The reader has now the evidence before him, and can form his own opinions +unaided by me as to the causes of the disappearance and death of Rufus Smith +and of John Berthier Heatherstone, V.C., C.B. +</p> + +<p> +There is only one point which is still dark to me. Why the <i>chelas</i> of +Ghoolab Shah should have removed their victims to the desolate Hole of Cree +instead of taking their lives at Cloomber, is, I confess, a mystery to me. +</p> + +<p> +In dealing with occult laws, however, we must allow for our own complete +ignorance of the subject. Did we know more we might see that there was some +analogy between that foul bog and the sacrilege which had been committed, and +that their ritual and customs demanded that just such a death was the one +appropriate to the crime. +</p> + +<p> +On this point I should be sorry to be dogmatic, but at least we must allow that +the Buddhist priests must have had some very good cause for the course of +action which they so deliberately carried out. +</p> + +<p> +Months afterwards I saw a short paragraph in the <i>Star of India</i> +announcing that three eminent Buddhists—Lal Hoomi, Mowdar Khan, and Ram +Singh—had just returned in the steamship <i>Deccan</i> from a short trip +to Europe. The very next item was devoted to an account of the life and +services of Major-General Heatherstone, “who has lately disappeared from +his country house in Wigtownshire, and who, there is too much reason to fear, +has been drowned.” +</p> + +<p> +I wonder if by chance there was any other human eye but mine which traced a +connection between these paragraphs. I never showed them to my wife or to +Mordaunt, and they will only know of their existence when they read these +pages. +</p> + +<p> +I don't know that there is any other point which needs clearing up. The +intelligent reader will have already seen the reasons for the general's fear of +dark faces, of wandering men (not knowing how his pursuers might come after +him), and of visitors (from the same cause and because his hateful bell was +liable to sound at all times). +</p> + +<p> +His broken sleep led him to wander about the house at night, and the lamps +which he burnt in every room were no doubt to prevent his imagination from +peopling the darkness with terrors. Lastly, his elaborate precautions were, as +he has himself explained, rather the result of a feverish desire to do +something than in the expectation that he could really ward off his fate. +</p> + +<p> +Science will tell you that there are no such powers as those claimed by the +Eastern mystics. I, John Fothergill West, can confidently answer that science +is wrong. +</p> + +<p> +For what is science? Science is the consensus of opinion of scientific men, and +history has shown that it is slow to accept a truth. Science sneered at Newton +for twenty years. Science proved mathematically that an iron ship could not +swim, and science declared that a steamship could not cross the Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +Like Goethe's Mephistopheles, our wise professor's forte is “stets +verneinen.” Thomas Didymus is, to use his own jargon, his prototype. Let +him learn that if he will but cease to believe in the infallibility of his own +methods, and will look to the East, from which all great movements come, he +will find there a school of philosophers and of savants who, working on +different lines from his own, are many thousand years ahead of him in all the +essentials of knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +THE END +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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