took no note of the lapse of time until her arrival at the habitation
of this devout minister of the word. It was built in a sequestered
glen, by a narrow brook near to a couple of black, shapeless, scraggy
firs, whose long lean arms were extended over the roof. A low porch
guarded the door, in which dairy utensils and implements of husbandry
were usually placed. The short casement windows were rendered still
more gloomy, and in places screened from light, by the creeping
woodbine throwing its luxuriant and unrestricted foliage about their
deep recesses. A little wicket admitted the visitor into the court, on
each side of which was a homely garden, where nothing ornamental was
suffered to intrude or encroach upon the space devoted to objects of
usefulness rather than indulgence.
Marian lifted up the latch, entering upon the precincts of this
hallowed abode. She passed on, through the large cold cheerless
apartment generally called the house; turning thence towards a little
chamber, used as an oratory, she heard a loud voice within. She tapped
first upon the door, which she slowly opened, and beheld the good man
with the sacred volume spread out before him. He raised his eyes for
a moment as she entered, but refrained not from his exercise, nor
altered in the least the strenuous tone of his orisons.
"And Ehud put forth his left hand, and took the dagger from his right
thigh, and smote Eglon, the King of Moab, so that he died. Thus perish
the ungodly and the oppressor, even as Abimelech, the son of
Jerubbaal, on whom the Almighty rendered the curse of Jotham his
brother, and all his wickedness that he had committed, and all the
evil of the men of Shechem did God return upon their own heads." Here
he raised his eyes, closing the book with a devout aspiration of
compliance to the will of Heaven. "I have sought counsel," he
continued, "and been much comforted thereby. The wicked shall be
utterly cut off, and the ungodly man shall fall by the sword. We may
not spare, nor have pity, as Saul spared Agag, whom Samuel hewed in
pieces; for the land is cursed for their sakes!"
"Hath Steenie yet returned from vain idols, and the abominations he
hath committed?" inquired the maiden.
"He doth yet hunger after the flesh-pots of Egypt; but my bowels yearn
towards him, even as my first-born. I do sorrow lest he be finally
entangled in the snares of the evil one."
"Knowest thou where he abideth, or if he doth attend the outpouring of
the word hereabout?"
"Verily, nay," said the divine; "but I have heard from Sarah and
Reuben Heathcote that he hath been seen in the house of ungodly
self-seekers, and notorious Papists and malignants, even with our
enemies at Garswood. He hath likewise been found resorting unto that
high place of papistry, Windleshaw, of late; despising--yea,
reviling--the warnings and godly exhortations of the Reverend Master
Haydock, who did purpose within himself to win, peradventure it might
be to afflict with stripes, this lost one from the fold, that he might
bring him back. But he hath sorely buffeted and evil-entreated this
diligent shepherd with many grievous indignities; such as tying him
unto a gate, and vexing him with sundry of Satan's devices. Yet we
would fain hope that he is a chosen vessel, though now defiled by the
adversary. He will return, peradventure, as heretofore, when the day
of his visitation is past." The good man did, indeed, yearn over this
erring sinner, and lifting up his voice he wept aloud.
"There came two men to our habitation, where they abode certain days,"
said Marian.
"And they departed this morning," said the minister, sharply; "knowest
thou that these be enemies of our faith, and contemners of the word?"
"I knew them not," she replied, "save that I suspected them as such,
ere they departed."
"Thou wouldest not have them taken with thee in the house, and in that
thou judgedst wisely; for I care not that a maiden's thoughts were so
soon disposed for deeds like these, which be fitter for iron hearts
and brazen hands. Though Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, slew
Sisera in her tent, and Rahab the harlot received the spies in peace;
yet thou didst, I doubt not, point out the way by which they went to
the spies sent by the council of the holy state, to follow after these
sons of Belial, and deliver them into their hands."
"I know not the path they took," said Marian, evasively.
"Heed not, for the men shall be delivered unto us; even now are they
pursued, and, I doubt not, overtaken. Which way soever they turn,
their steps are holden, and a snare is laid for their feet; for they
shall surely die!" The preacher lifted up his eyes in righteous
indignation. They have made themselves drunk with the blood of the
saints."
"Will not their lives be given them for a prey?" inquired Marian,
apparently in great alarm.
"I have sought counsel, I tell thee; and the Philistine and the
Canaanite shall be destroyed utterly from the land."
"I fear me they be other than I had imagined," returned the maiden
weeping; "yet still, and I trust I shall be forgiven, I could not
betray them who have abided with us, and eaten of our bread."
"Thou knowest them not, wench," said Gilgal; "and 'tis perhaps well
thou shouldest not." Here he looked fiercely from under his brows, as
though he would have pierced the very inmost recesses of her soul.
"Beware," continued he, "for thou art comely, and these men do use
devilish and subtle devices to allure and to betray."
Marian was silent. A swollen tear, the overflowing of an overwhelmed
and oppressed heart, slowly wandered down her cheek. It was the very
crisis of the conflict; and the old man forbore to break the bruised
reed. She seemed uneasy and anxious to depart; but he hindered her
for a space.
"Wilt thou not, as thou art wont, approach with me to the footstool of
Him who doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men?"
Marian felt the rebuke, though it was so finely tempered, and
administered so tenderly. She was one of his earlier converts, and his
love for her was that of a spiritual parent. Bending the knee, she
covered her burning cheeks, and poured out her heart with him in
fervour and sincerity. Whether both of them had precisely the same
object in view as the end of their supplications, or whether the
maiden's fears and inclinations might not lead her to offer up a
sincere petition for the safety of others besides those of the
household, we will not take upon ourselves to determine; but on
leaving the dwelling of Gilgal Snape a suppressed sigh and an
involuntary whisper escaped her--"He may yet be spared." She raised
her eyes in thankfulness, and a gleam of hope, but not of happiness,
irradiated her heart; for she now felt that a great gulf separated
them for ever.
She had ascertained by her converse with the Puritan, who was well
informed in all matters connected with his party, that they were yet
unacquainted as to the ulterior proceedings of the strangers; and it
seemed probable, from this circumstance alone, that at any rate
Egerton had not fallen into their hands. Her next object was to find
out "Steenie," and to elicit from him the knowledge of the stranger's
fate; for unless this mischievous personage had in some wild erratic
freak or another conveyed him off, she could not tell what mishap
could have befallen him. Despite of her prejudices and the true bent
of her disposition, which, though it partook not of the furious and
headlong intolerance of the times, was yet sufficiently imbued with
the spirit of her sect, the cavalier had won so unsuspectingly upon
her kindness that she started as though she would have escaped from
her own thoughts, when she felt the deep and agonising shudder which
crossed her at the bare possibility that he might fall into the hands
of the avenger of blood. At a glance she saw the fearful involutions
and the almost inextricable toils by which the fugitives were
encompassed. Unaided, she was well aware that their attempts would be
fruitless. She knew not the intentions of the crazy sexton on this
point. The wayward and apparently capricious movements of this strange
compound of Puritanism and Papistry were too dangerous and uncertain
to allow any hope for ultimate safety under his management. Whether or
not he had a hand in Egerton's removal was still a matter of
conjecture. She felt, in addition to this uncertainty, no slight
degree of awe and apprehension in her approaches to this solitary
being; and a sort of undefined notion that, however modified and
controlled by circumstances, yet his communications with the world of
spirits were still in operation, imparting to his converse and
communion with his fellow-men a strange and dubious character, which
even strangers did not fail to perceive, and to shrink from contact
with a being of such doubtful qualities. His predictions and dark
sayings were often quoted, and much more importance was attached to
them than their real and obvious meaning should have warranted. They
derived greater credence, perhaps, from their usually vague and
ambiguous character suiting any accident and condition, according to
the fancy of the hearer, however remotely allied in their meaning and
application. Whatsoever might be the event, there was little
difficulty in shaping out an appropriate or equivalent prediction; and
it did seem at times sufficiently marvellous that few occurrences
should take place which could not be traced to some dark foretokening
enveloped in one or other of these mystical revelations. Events happen
to ourselves that do occasionally, and not unfrequently, rush back
upon our minds with unaccountable and almost appalling force, as
though, however novel in reality, they were but facts and feelings
with which we had long ago been familiar, yet in what manner we are
unable to determine. It might seem that they had suddenly, and for a
moment, started forth from the Lethe which divides our present
existence from some past state of being; that a sudden light had
flashed from the portals of oblivion, too rapid or too dazzling,
perhaps, to be apprehended or defined.
As she returned the shadows of evening were coming on dim and softly
over the quiet glades and dewy meadows. The noisy rooks, having lately
ventured forth, were cawing cheerily on their homeward flight,
"beguiling the way with pleasant intercourse." The lesser birds were
flitting towards the bushes; and through the lingering mist-wreath,
floating still and tranquilly on the moist meadows, came forth at
times a solitary twitter, as though the lark had alighted softly and
joyously on her nest. The glow and the brightness of evening were gone
when Marian passed the threshold of her home, uncertain yet as to the
fate of Egerton and the course she should pursue. She allayed, as well
as she was able, the fretfulness and impatience of Chisenhall,
entreating that he would remain quiet until the morrow, after which it
was possible that something would transpire with regard to his friend.
The irresistible conclusion, that by venturing forth he would
compromise the safety of all parties, alone rendered him tractable,
and prevented the consequences of any rash exposure.
Too much occupied in resolves and plans for to-morrow's enterprise,
the maiden on retiring to her chamber felt no inclination for repose,
and her little couch was left vacant. It was a low room within the
thatch, into which a narrow window, projecting from the roof, admitted
the clear mellow radiance of the moon, now shining uninterruptedly
from above. So lovely and inviting was the aspect of the night, that,
after a long and anxious train of thought, she resolved to enjoy the
calm and delicious atmosphere, free and unconfined, hoping to feel its
invigorating effects upon her exhausted spirits.
It might be within a short half-hour of midnight when she tripped
lightly down the stairs, and was soon across the stile which led to
the deserted chapel of Windleshaw. Attracted by the beauty and the
reviving freshness of all around her, fearing no evil and conscious of
no alarm, she proceeded, wandering without aim or purpose into the
quiet cemetery.
In the dark shadow of the building she walked on, fearless and alone.
Her bosom had been hitherto the abode of happiness and peace. To the
stranger's appearance might be attributed the source of her present
disquiet. She would have breathed after communion with heavenly
things, but earthly objects mingled in her aspirations; charity,
peradventure, for those of another creed, and anxiety for another's
fate. But she was not satisfied that this was the sole cause of her
unhappiness; and the pang of separation, too, came like a barbed arrow
into her soul. She felt alarmed, amazed at the sudden change. She
feared that her weak and wandering heart was going back to the world,
and resting for support on its frail and perishing interests. Tossed
and buffeted with temptation, she still passed on; when, turning the
angle of the grey tower, she emerged again into the clear, unbroken
moonlight--the little hillocks and upright gravestones alone
disturbing the broad and level beam. She was startled from her reverie
by dull and heavy sounds near her, as though a pickaxe were employed
by invisible hands in disturbing the ground close to where she stood.
She paused a moment and listened; the blows were still falling, and
she felt the ground vibrating beneath her feet. A sudden thought
crossed her--it might be "Steenie," even at this untimely hour, plying
his accustomed vocation. He had been retarded probably by the
accidents of the day; and the occasion being urgent, according to his
own anticipations, had led him to labour so late for its completion.
It was doubtless the grave which had been so mysteriously assigned to
the lot of Egerton. A cold tremor crept upon her; she remembered the
denunciation and the uncertain fate of the victim. Even now he might
be hastening to his final account, and this horrid _ghoul_ might be
scenting the dissolution of the body that he was preparing to entomb.
"Graciously forbid it, Heaven!" she inwardly ejaculated, approaching
the grave; but so softly, that her footsteps were not heard by the
invisible workman, who was deep in the abyss of his own creating. The
blows had ceased, and the mattock was now in requisition. Shovelfuls
of earth were thrown out; thick and heavy clods were hurled forth in
rapid succession. The scene would have driven back many a timid girl;
and even some stout hearts and fierce stomachs would have shrunk from
the trial. She was within range, and almost within the grasp, of a
being whose evil dispositions were known and acknowledged--a being
whose mysterious connection with intelligences of an unfriendly nature
was universally admitted. A grave, dug in secret, peradventure during
some baneful and preternatural process, yawned before her. Midnight,
too, was nigh; and she was not devoid of apprehension--that inherent
dread of the invisible things of darkness universally bound up with
our feeble and fallen nature. Since the day of his first estrangement,
man never, even in imagination or apprehension, approaches the dark
and shadowy threshold of a world unseen without terror, lest some
supernatural communication should break forth; it seems a feeling
coeval with the curse on our first parents, when they heard "the voice
of the Lord God walking in the garden, and were afraid." This
apprehension still clings to us; but, though surrounded in light, as
well as in darkness, by a world of disembodied spirits, whose
attributes and capacities are inconceivably superior to our own, our
nature is so material, and our very essence so engrossed and
identified with earth, that it is only when the startling realities of
their existence become manifest in those visible emblems of their
nature--darkness and death--that we shrink back in horror, lest our
very being should suffer contact with spiritual and eternal things.
Concealed from view, Marian stood still at a very short distance from
the grave. Steenie was humming a plaintive ditty, or rather dirge; for
it partook of a double character, something between an alehouse
roundelay and a funeral chant.
She soon perceived that each spadeful, as it was thrown out, was
accompanied by a separate distich, the meaning of which she could
distinctly gather from some uncouth and barbarous rhymes--the
remnants, probably, of a more superstitious age--almost cabalistic in
their form and acceptation. The following may serve as a specimen,
though we have taken the precaution to render them a little more
intelligible:--
"Howk, hack, and dig spade;
Tenant ne'er grumbled that grave was ill made."
Then came a heavy spadeful of earth again from the narrow house.
Another shovelful produced the following doggerel:--
"Housen, and castles, and kings decay;
But the biggins we big last till doomus-day."
Some more coarse and less intelligible jargon followed, which it is
not needful that we repeat. Again he threw forth a burden of more than
ordinary bulk, resting from his labours during the following more
elaborate ditty:--
"Dark and dreary though it be,
Thou shalt all its terrors dree:
Dungeon dark, where none complain,
Nor 'scape to tell its woe and pain."
Again he bent him to his task, and again the earth went rolling forth,
accompanied by something like the following verse:--
"Though I dig for him that be living yet,
O'er this narrow gulf he shall never get;
The mouth gapes wide that 'Enough' ne'er cries;
Each clod that I fling on his bosom lies;
In darkness and coldness it rests on thee,
With the last stroke that falls thy doom shall be!"
With increasing energy did he work on, as though to accelerate the
fate of his victim. Marian felt herself on the brink of the tomb, and
its icy touch was perceptible through every part of her frame.
The mystic chant was again audible, and more distinct than before--
"The charm is wound, and this stroke shall be
The last, when it falls, of his destiny;
Save he sell to another his birthright here,
Then the buyer shall buy both grave and bier."
Uttering this malediction, he scrambled out of the grave, and suddenly
stood before the astonished maiden, who shuddered as she beheld the
unshapely outline of a form which she instantly recognised.
He did not seem a whit surprised or startled, though he could not have
been aware previously that a listener was nigh.
"What ho, wench!" said he; "art watching for a husband?" His sharp
shrill voice grated on her ear like the cry of the screech-owl.
"I came to meet thee!" said she firmly. He broke forth into a loud
laugh at this reply, more terrible than the most violent expression of
hate or malignity. No wonder, in those ages, that it was supposed to
be the operation of some demon, animate in his form, controlling and
exercising the bodily functions to his own malignant designs.
"Where is he whom I seek?" inquired the maiden.
"Ask the clods of the valley, and the dust unto which man departs!" he
replied, pointing significantly to the gulf at his feet.
"Nay," said Marian, apparently to humour the fantastical turn of his
ideas; "thou knowest if he sell that grave to another, he shall
escape, and the doom shall be foregone."
"Ay, lassie; but there be no fools now-a-days, I wot, to buy a man's
grave over his head for the sake of a bargain!"
"I warrant thee now, Steenie, but thou hast hidden him hereabout." She
said this in as careless and indifferent a tone as she could well
assume.
"I am but a-keeping of him safe till his time comes. Neither priest
nor Presbyterian shall cheat me out of him. He's mine as sure as that
grave gives not back its prey."
"He is living, I trow?"
"Good wot, I reckon so; but living men may die; and this pick never,
for man or woman, opened a mouth that was left to gape long without
victuals."
"Thou wouldst not harm him?"
"I'd not hurt the hair on a midge-tail, though it stung me. But his
doom was shown me yesternight," said he, lowering his voice to a
whisper; "and I would have him laid here in consecration, that the
devil get not his bones to pick, for neither priest nor Puritan can
bless the ground now-a-days like unto this."
Whether the cause of his anxiety was really a wish to provide a
hallowed resting-place for the cavalier, or this pretence was merely
to cover some ulterior purposes of his own, the maiden was left
without a clue to form any plausible conjecture. She had heard
sufficient, however, to ascertain that he was in some way or another
accessory to the disappearance of Egerton, and that in all likelihood
he knew the retreat of the unfortunate captive.
A woman's wits are proverbially sharpened by exigencies, and Marian
was not slow in obeying their impulse.
"Where art thou abiding? I would fain speak with thee to-morrow
touching thy condition, for thou hast been much estranged from us of
late."
He pointed to the ivied belfry, where a grated loophole formed a dark
cross on the wall.
"A man may sleep if the wind will let him; but such fearsome visions I
have had of late, that I ha' been just nigh 'reft o' my wits. Wilt be
a queen or a queen-mother, Marian? Something spake to me after this
fashion; but I was weary with watching. The spirit passed from me, and
I comprehended him not."
She was silent, apprehensive that his wits were at present too
bewildered for her purpose, being always subject to aberration under
any peculiar excitement of either mind or body.
"I will visit thee yonder to-morrow," said Marian.
"Me!" he shouted, in a tone of surprise. "Bless thy pretty face,
Marian, I have bolted him in. He is but waiting for his dismissal."
"Whither?"
Again he pointed to the grave.
"Tush," said Marian; "he will not, maybe, get his passport thither so
soon, unless, indeed, thou shouldst starve him to death."
"Starve him! Nay, by"----He stopped just as he was on the point of
uttering some well-remembered but long quiescent oath.
"I thought not of that before, Marian: he will want some food. Ay--ay,
bless thy little heart, I did not think on 't. But for thee, Marian, I
should ha' kept him there, and he might ha' starved outright; though
he will not need it long, I trow, poor fool!" said he, with a sigh,
ludicrous enough under other circumstances, but now invested with all
the solemnity of a supernatural disclosure.
"I will away for victuals," said Marian: "stay here until I return." A
short time only elapsed ere she came again, laden with provisions and
other restoratives, judging that the captive stood in need of some
refreshment.
Stephen was waiting for her in a deep and solemn fit of abstraction
before the low door leading to a staircase at the foot of the tower.
He spoke not until she stood beside him.
"My brain, Marian--Oh! my brain. Here, here!" Seizing her hand, he
pressed it hurriedly over his brow, which was hot, almost scorching.
The blood beat rapidly through his throbbing temples. Fearful lest the
approaching hallucination might prevent her benevolent designs, she
soothed and coaxed him to lead the way, which had the desired effect;
muttering as he went on, at times unintelligibly, at others speaking
with peculiar emphasis and vehemence.
"The foul fiend came again, though he was cast out; and I--I yielded.
He promised me gold, if I would dig for 't. And I digg'd, and digg'd;
but it always shaped itself into a grave--another's grave--and I never
found any. Yea, once. Look thee, wench," said he, pulling out a bright
Jacobus from his belt, and holding it in the beam that shot through a
loophole of the ascent. "Yes; this--this! the devil brought it that
tempted me. No, no; I sold my own grave for 't. Would it were mine
again: I had been where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary
are at rest. Nay; there will be no rest for me. I am an apostate--a
castaway--the devil that seduced me hath said it again and again--for
whom is reserved the blackness of darkness, and the noisome pit for
ever! But as long, look thee, as I keep this gold, I die not. No!
though twice ten thousand were on my track; for I sold my grave to a
doomed one; nor, till I buy another with the same piece of gold, shall
death and hell prevail against me. So sayeth the fiend."