INSIDE THE KEEP
Carl Meason was very busy. He sat up late, poring over maps, tracing
routes. Abel Head said:
"He doesn't seem to have a minute to spare."
He had minutes to spare and they were devoted to paying attentions to
Jane Thrush when he had an opportunity. She did not avoid him: he
interested her, and her father appeared to like him.
Meason approached Thrush carefully, feeling his way gradually; he knew
it would be best to influence the father in order to ingratiate the
daughter.
Tom took him through the forest, pointing out places of interest. He
found Meason a ready listener, who flattered him by remarking on the
knowledge he possessed. They walked many miles, but Meason noticed he
avoided going near the house in Trent Park. The moat aroused his
curiosity. It was filled with water, the depth being considerable; a
boat was moored to a small landing stage. Carl asked if his guide
could take him into the keep.
Tom said:
"I have brought the keys with me; I thought perhaps you'd like to see
it. I've seen strange sights hereabouts. I never come nigh the place
at night: there's things chill the marrow in one's bones," and he gave
a slight shudder.
Carl laughed. He was no believer in ghosts and such-like superstitions.
"Yer can laugh," said Tom irritably, "but I've seen 'em I tell ye. My
eyes are good evidence, I can't doubt 'em."
"I was not laughing at what you thought you've seen," said Carl.
"Thought!" exclaimed Tom. "There's no thought about it; it's gospel
truth."
"What did you see?"
"It's strange, beyond telling. There's been murder done in yon keep
many a time; it's a gruesome place," and he pointed across the dark
water to the round, ancient, tower-like building, whose stones gave
evidence of many centuries' battling with storm and tempest.
"Looks a bit lonesome."
"It is. You see that spot near the wall? Well, it's dark and deep,
and one night I saw her rise out from the depth. She wailed and threw
up her arms, then she sank. She came up again, and a third time; then
there was a splash and she disappeared. It was a great stone struck
her down. From yon small window, that slit in the wall, I saw a face
looking out. It was an awful face, must have been near kin to the
devil's; the thing groaned, broke into a harsh laugh, and it vanished.
Lord, I never want to see such sights again! My hair turned gray,"
said Tom.
Carl was amused. He humored him.
"Strange happenings indeed," he said. "What's it like inside?"
"I'll show you, but you had best go in alone. I've had enough of the
d----d place," answered Tom.
He got into the boat, took the solitary oar and placed it in the
rollock [Transcriber's note: rowlock?] at the stern; Carl stepped in
and stood up.
"Best sit," said Tom; "it's a crazy old craft."
"Why doesn't Mr. Chesney have a new one?"
"Don't know; thinks it's good enough for the job, I expect. He never
encourages folks' going to the keep."
"But he allows you to carry the keys?"
"Yes; he trusts me. He knows I'm none too fond of the devilish hole."
Tom ferried across to the broken-down landing-place near the door of
the keep. They got out.
"Here you are," said Tom. "Go inside if you wish."
Carl took the key.
"I'll not be long," he said, as he put it in the lock. It turned with
difficulty, and as he pushed the nail-studded old oak door open there
was a cool, damp, vault-like smell.
"Reckon you'll come out quick enough," said Tom. "Best be careful;
there's some old broken steps lead down under the moat--a dungeon or
summat's there." He swore as his foot slipped and he almost fell into
the water.
"That's a sure sign we're not wanted here," said Tom gloomily.
Carl smiled and went inside. It was a curious, gruesome place, and the
dank air was stifling. He climbed the stone steps upward until he came
to a small room. The walls were bare but there were a bed and chairs
and tables, all of oak, an iron ring in the wall, a rusty chain, and a
padlock of huge size lay on the stone floor, unlocked. The slit in the
wall gave enough light to see. Carl stood on a chair and looked out.
He saw Tom, waved his hand, but there was no response.
"He can't see me," thought Carl. "It's strange; he's looking straight
here."
There were more stairs. At the top he found another room exactly
similar to the one below, furnished in the same bare way. In one
corner he saw something gray. Examining it, it proved to be a flimsy
gauze-like wrap; it was not old, nor torn. There was a white cloth,
also a pair of soft slippers.
"The ghost's attire," thought Carl. "Somebody comes here and frightens
people. Wonder what for? Probably to scare 'em away for some purpose
of his, or her, own. This is interesting."
He replaced the garment, letting it fall and arranging it as nearly as
possible as he found it. He went down again, feeling the wall as he
descended. It was damp; drops stood out, burst and trickled down. He
found the stone steps leading to the dungeon under the moat; they were
smooth, broken in places. He was careful in stepping; a slip and he
might be landed at the bottom with a sprained ankle, a broken leg, or
worse. It was a slippery descent; once or twice he fell down; but he
intended seeing what was at the bottom and at last succeeded.
The dark dungeon had a curious odor in it, probably due to the water
and lack of fresh air; but there was a scent undefinable as well. He
struck a match; it went out immediately, just as though somebody, or
something, had blown upon it. He was not a nervous man, but when the
second and third match went out in the same way he was inclined to beat
a retreat.
"One more try," he thought, and struck three or four wax matches at
once; this proved effective and gave him time to see in the corner,
propped up, what looked like the body of a man. He must be mistaken;
he lit more matches, dropping the others on the floor, where they
spluttered in the wet and fizzled out.
It was a man, could be nothing else. He went toward the body, for such
he supposed it, bent down to feel it, and found nothing. This was
strange. He lit more matches. Now he saw space; there was no body
there. He stepped back several paces, astonished, lost in wonder; then
he saw the thing again, saw it distinctly, and it seemed to move. It
came toward him, or in his excited state of mind he fancied so. His
light went out; he had no more matches. As he groped his way to the
steps, or where he thought they were, something touched him on the
shoulder. It was enough to startle any man, and he cried out in alarm.
There was a faint, squeaking noise and a fluttering, then the thing
touched his cheek and he smelt a deathlike odor. Thoroughly alarmed he
groped out. He felt the damp wall; he had lost the steps; he must walk
round, feeling until he came to them, being a circular dungeon he must
come to them. It seemed an interminable time before he came to the
opening and began to scramble up on his hands and knees.
Tom Thrush waited in the boat. He thought him a long time gone and
hoped nothing had happened. He knew it was a queer place to roam
around. He whistled for company, then lit his pipe. Why didn't he
come out of the beastly place? What was that? It sounded like a
startled cry; it came from the tower. Tom shivered. He wasn't going
in there to look for Carl Meason, not for any money. The smoke came
from his pipe in jerky whiffs.
Just as he was about to step out of the boat, go to the door and call,
Carl Meason came out with a quick movement. Tom stared at him in
amazement, not unmingled with fear.
Meason was covered in dirt and damp from head to foot, there was blood
on his hands, his face was blanched, a wild look in his eyes. He had
no time to pull himself together before Tom saw it. His recovery
however was remarkably quick considering what he had gone through. He
had no desire to give himself away. He looked at his clothes and
laughed. In the open again his courage revived.
"It's the dirtiest damp hole I ever was in!" he said; and Tom
recognized a difference in his voice.
"Yer all over filth," said Tom. "Yer hands are bloody, ye've torn yer
trousers. Where've yer been? Have yer seen anything?"
"Rotten place," said Carl. "If I were Chesney I'd blow it up."
"Did yer see anything?" persisted Tom.
"What the deuce is there to see except bare walls and some ancient oak
furniture, must be hundreds of years old."
"It is," said Tom, "more--hundreds and hundreds. You looked a bit
scared when you came out--white as a sheet, eyes near shooting out of
yer head. Tell me what yer saw."
"Nothing," said Carl. "The place gave me the horrors. I lost myself
in the dungeon, took me a long time to find the steps again, that gave
me a shock, I had no matches left."
"There's folks been put in that place never saw the light o' day again.
Do you believe it's haunted?"
Carl made no reply for a few moments, then said:
"It may be; I shouldn't be surprised. I'm more inclined to believe you
since I've been inside."
"I thought as how you would. Seeing's believing," said Tom.
"But I tell you I did not see anything. I heard sounds."
"Ah!" exclaimed Tom. "What like were they?"
"Groans!"
"It's them ye heard, the spirits of the dead; the poor devils never
rest in peace," said Tom.
They were going across the moat. There was a splash and both started;
Tom almost dropped the oar.
"What's that?" he said. "Look!" and he pointed to the ripples in the
dark water circling.
"A fish rising," said Carl with a queer little laugh.
"There's no fish in here, don't believe there's even a carp in."
"Why not?"
"What 'ud fish be doing in this beastly hole?"
"Feeding."
"Nothing to feed on."
"You don't know what's at the bottom of that," said Carl, pointing
downward.
"And I don't want to. If it's fish, I'd not eat them," said Tom.
They walked back to the keeper's cottage. Jane met them at the door,
surprised to see the state of Carl's clothes. She asked where he had
been.
"Exploring the moat and the keep," he replied, thinking her pretty face
was a great help to banish phantoms.
Jane laughed as she said:
"You've had a fright. Keep away from the place, it's haunted; there's
danger when you meddle with 'em."
"I saw nothing in the keep. I told your father so."
Jane shook her head as she replied:
"Best say nothing about it; keep those things to yourself."
"Have you ever seen things there?" asked Carl.
"Telling's knowing," said Jane, but without smiling.