It was in the bright moonlight of a clear March evening that the twin
brothers of Gascony stood hand in hand, gazing for the first time in
their lives upon their lost inheritance of Basildene. It was not yet
wholly dark, for a saffron glow in the sky behind still showed where the
sun had lately sunk, whilst the moon was shining with frosty brightness
overhead. Dark as the surrounding woods had been, it was light enough
here in the clearing around the house. Behind the crumbling red walls
the forest grew dark and close, but in the front the larger trees had
been cleared away, and the long low house, with its heavy timbers and
many gables, stood clearly revealed before the eager eyes of the boys,
who stopped short to gaze without speaking a single word to one another.
Once, doubtless, it had been a beautiful house, more highly decorated
than was usual at the period. The heavy beams, dark with age, let into
the brickwork were many of them richly carved, and the twisted chimneys
and quaint windows showed traces of considerable ingenuity in the
builder's art. Plainly, too, there had been a time when the ground
around the house had been cared for and kept trim and garden-like.
Now it was but a waste and wilderness, everything growing wild and
tangled around it; whilst the very edifice itself seemed crumbling to
decay, and wore the grim look of a place of evil repute. It was hard to
believe that any person lived within those walls. It was scarce possible
to approach within the precincts of that lonely house without a shudder
of chill horror.
Gaston crossed himself as he stood looking on the house, which, by what
men said, was polluted by many foul deeds, and tenanted by evil spirits
to boot; but upon Raymond's face was a different look. His heart went
suddenly out to the lonely old house. He felt that he could love it well
if it were ever given to him to win it back. As he stood there in the
moonlight gazing and gazing, he registered anew in his heart the vow
that the day should come when he would fulfil his mother's dying behest,
and stand within those halls as the recognized lord of Basildene.
But the present moment was one for action, not for vague dreamings. The
brothers had come with a definite purpose, and they did not intend to
quit the spot until that purpose was accomplished. The Sanghursts --
father and son -- were far away. The gloomy house -- unless guarded by
malevolent spirits, which did not appear unlikely -- was almost
tenantless. Within its walls was the miserable victim of cruel tyranny
whom they had come to release. The boys, who had both confessed and
received the Blessed Sacrament from the hands of the priest who had
interested himself before in the woodman's son, felt strong in the
righteousness of their cause. If they experienced some fear, as was not
unlikely, they would not own it even to themselves. Gaston was filled
with the soldier spirit of the day, that scorned to turn back upon
danger however great. Raymond was supported by a deep underlying sense
of the sacredness of the cause in which he was embarked. It was not
alone that he was going to deal a blow at the foes of his house; it was
much more to him than that. Vengeance might play a part in the crusade,
but to him it was a secondary idea. What he thought of was the higher
chivalry of which he and John had spoken so much together -- the rescue
of a soul from the clutches of spiritual tyranny; a blow struck in the
defence of one helpless and oppressed; risk run for the sake of those
who would never be able to repay; the deed done for its own sake, not in
the hope of any praise or reward. Surely this thing might be the first
step in a career of true knightliness, albeit such humble deeds might
never win the golden spurs of which men thought so much.
Gaston's eyes had been scanning the whole place with hawk-like gaze. Now
he turned to his brother and spoke in rapid whispers.
"Entrance will be none too easy here. The narrow windows, with their
stone mullions, will scarce admit the passage of a human body, and I can
see that iron bars protect many of them still farther. The doors are
doubtless strong, and heavily bolted. The old sorcerer has no wish to be
interrupted in his nefarious occupations, nor does he trust alone to
ghostly terrors to protect his house. Methinks we had better skirt round
the house, and seek that other entrance of which we have heard. Raymond,
did not our mother tell us oft a story of a revolving stone door to an
underground passage, and the trick by which it might be opened from
within and without? I remember well that it was by a secret spring
cleverly hidden -- seven from above, three from below, those were the
numbers. Can it be that it was of Basildene she was thinking all that
time? It seems not unlikely. Seven from the top, three from the bottom
-- those were certainly the numbers, though I cannot recollect to what
they referred. Canst thou remember the story, Raymond? Dost thou think
it was of Basildene she spoke?"
"Ay, verily I do!" cried the other quickly, a light coming into his
face. "Why had I not thought of it before? I remember well she spoke of
dark water which lay upon the outside of the house hard by the entrance
to the underground way. Rememberest thou not the boat moored in the lake
to carry the fugitive across to the other side, and the oars so muffled
that none might hear? And did not Mistress Joan say that the secret way
into Basildene was hard by the fish ponds on the west side of the house?
It can be nothing else but this. Let us go seek them at once. Methinks
we have in our hands the clue by which we may obtain entrance into
Basildene."
Cautiously, as though their foes were at hand, the brothers slipped
round the crumbling walls of the house, marking well as they did so that
despite the half-ruinous aspect of much of the building, there was no
ready or easy method of access. Every gap in the masonry was carefully
filled up, every window that was wide enough to admit the passage of a
human form was guarded by iron bars, and the doors were solid enough to
defy for a long time the assault of battering rams.
"It is not in ghostly terrors he mainly trusts to guard his house,"
whispered Raymond, as they skirted round into the dim darkness of the
dense woodland that lay behind the house. "Methinks if he had in very
truth a guard of evil spirits, he would not be so careful of his bolts
and bars."
Gaston was willing enough to believe this; for though he feared no human
foe, he was by no means free from the superstitious terrors of the age,
and it needed all his coolness of head, as well as all his confidence in
the righteousness of his cause, to keep his heart from fluttering with
fear as they stepped along beneath the gloom of the trees, which even
when not in leaf cast dense shadows around them. It was in truth a weird
spot: owls hooted dismally about them, bats flitted here and there in
their erratic flight, and sometimes almost brushed the faces of the boys
with their clammy wings. The strange noises always to be heard in a wood
at night assailed their ears, and mingled with the quick beating of
their own hearts; whilst from time to time a long unearthly wail, which
seemed to proceed from the interior of the house itself, filled them
with an unreasoning sense of terror that they would not confess even to
themselves.
"It is like the wail of a lost spirit," whispered Raymond at the third
repetition of the cry. "Brother, let us say a prayer, and go forward in
the power of the Blessed Virgin and her Holy Son."
For a moment the brothers knelt in prayer, as the priest had bidden them
if heart or spirit quailed.
Then rising, strengthened and supported, they looked carefully about
them, and Gaston, grasping his brother by the arm, pointed through the
trees and said:
"The water, the water! sure I see a gleam of moonlight upon it! We have
reached the fish ponds, I verily believe! Now for the secret way to the
house!"
It was true enough. A few steps brought them to the margin of a large
piece of water, which was something between a lake and a series of fish
ponds, such as are so often seen by old houses. Once the lake had
plainly been larger, but had partially drained away, and was now
confined to various levels by means of a rude dam and a sort of gate
like that of a modern lock. Still the boys could trace a likeness to the
lake of their mother's oft-told tale, and by instinct they both turned
to the right as they reached the margin of the water, and threaded their
way through the coarse and tangled sedges, decaying in the winter's
cold, till they reached a spot where brushwood grew down to the very
edge of the water, and the bank rose steep and high above their heads.
Gaston was a step in advance, Raymond following at his heels, both
keenly eager over the quest. An exclamation from the leader soon showed
that something had been discovered, and the next minute he had drawn
aside the sweeping branches of a great willow, and revealed a dark
opening in the bank, around which the giant roots seemed to form a
protecting arch.
"This is the place," he said, in a muffled whisper. "Raymond, hast thou
the wherewithal to kindle the torch?"
The boys had not come unprovided with such things as were likely to
prove needful for their search, and though it was a matter of some time
to obtain a light, they were skilful and well used to the process, and
soon their torch was kindled and they were treading with cautious steps
the intricacies of the long and tortuous passage which plainly led
straight to the house.
"We never should have found it but for our mother's story," said Gaston,
with exultation in his voice. "Raymond, methinks that this is the first
step in our career of vengeance. We have the key to Basildene in our
hands. It may be that upon another occasion we may use it with a
different purpose."
It seemed to the brothers that they had walked a great distance, when
their steps were arrested by what appeared in the first instance to be a
solid wall of stone. Had they not had some sort of clue in their heads,
they would certainly have believed that this natural tunnel ended here,
and that further progress was impossible. But as it was, they were
firmly convinced that this was but the door of masonry of which their
mother had told them in years gone by. Neither could recollect the story
save in fragments; but the numbers had clung to Gaston's tenacious
memory, and now he stood before the door saying again and again --
"Seven from the top, three from the bottom" -- scanning the wall in
front of him with the keenest glances all the while.
"Ha!" he exclaimed at length; "bring the torch nearer, Raymond. See
here. This is not one block of stone, as seems at first, but a mass of
masonry so cunningly joined together as to look like one solid piece.
See, here are the joints; I can feel them with my fingernail, though I
can scarce see them with my eyes. Let us count the number of the stones
used. Yes; there are nine in all from top to bottom, each of the same
width. Therefore the seventh from the top is the third counting from the
bottom. This is the stone which is the key."
So saying, Gaston set his knee against it and pressed with all his
might. Almost to his own surprise he felt it give as he did so, and
Raymond uttered a short cry of astonishment: for the whole of what had
looked like a solid wall revolved slowly inwards, revealing a
continuation of the passage which they had been traversing so long, only
that now the passage was plainly one in the interior of the house; for
the walls were of masonry, and the dimensions were far more regular.
"This is the secret door," said Gaston exultingly. "It is in truth a
cunning contrivance. Let me have the light here a moment, Brother. I
will see what the trick of the door upon this side is."
This point was quickly settled by an inspection of the ingenious
contrivance, which was one purely of balance, and not dependent either
upon springs or bolts. Probably it dated back from days when these
latter things were hardly known, and was so satisfactory in the working
that it had never been improved upon.
"The way to Basildene is always open to us," murmured Raymond, with a
quick thrill of exultation, as the brothers passed through the doorway
and let it close behind them; and then they forgot all else in the
excitement of the search after the woodman's miserable son.
What strange places they came upon in this underground region below the
ill-famed house! Plainly these cells had been built once for prisoners;
for there were fragments of rusty chains still fastened to the stone
floors, and in one spot a grinning skull lying broken in a corner sent
thrills of horror through the brothers' hearts. From time to time the
sound of that unearthly wailing reached their ears, though it was almost
impossible to divine from what direction it proceeded; and it had a far
less human sound now that the boys were within the precincts of the
house than had been the case when they were still outside.
Whether this was more alarming or less they hardly knew. Everything was
so strange and dreamlike that they could not tell whether or not all
were real. They pressed on eager to accomplish the object of their
search, resolved to do that at all cost, and anxious to keep themselves
from thinking or feeling too much until that object should be accomplished.
They had mounted some stairs, and had reached a different level from the
underground passages, when they found their further progress barred by a
strong door. This door was bolted, but from the outside, and they had no
difficulty in withdrawing the heavy bolts from their sockets. When this
had been done the door opened of itself, and they found themselves in a
large vaulted room utterly unlike any place they had ever seen before.
They grasped each other by the hand and gazed about in wonder.
"It is the magician's laboratory!" whispered Raymond, whose recent
readings with John had taught him many things.
He recognized the many crucibles and the strange implements lying on the
table as the things employed by dabblers in magic lore, whilst the great
sullen wood and charcoal fire, which illumined the place with a dull red
glow, was all in keeping with the nature of the occupations carried on
there, as was the strange pungent smell that filled the air.
Rows of jars and bottles upon shelves, strange-looking mirrors and
crystals, some fixed and some lying upon the tables, books and
parchments full of cabalistic signs propped open beside the crucibles or
hung against the wall, all gave evidence of the nature of the pursuits
carried on in that unhallowed spot. The brothers, burning with curiosity
as well as filled with awe, approached the tables and looked into the
many vessels lying upon them, shuddering as the crimson contents made
them think of blood.
Gaston put forth his hand cautiously and touched an ebony rod tipped
with crystal that lay beside the largest crucible. As he did so a heavy
groan seemed to arise from the very ground at his feet, and he dropped
the implement with a smothered exclamation of terror. Raymond at the
same moment looking hastily round the dim place, grasped his brother's
arm, and pointed to a dark corner not many paces from them.
"Brother, see there! see there!" he whispered. "Sure there is the boy we
have come to save!"
Gaston looked and made a quick step forward. Sure enough, there upon the
floor, bound hand and foot with leather thongs that had been pulled
cruelly tight, lay the emaciated figure of what had once been a handsome
and healthy boy, but was now little more than a living skeleton. His
face still retained its beauty of outline, though these outlines were
terribly pinched and sharpened, but the expression of abject terror in
the great blue eyes was pitiful to behold, and as Gaston and Raymond
bent over the boy, a shrill cry, as of agony or terror, broke from his
pale lips.
"Who are you?" he gasped. "How have you come? Oh, do not touch me -- do
not hurt me! Go -- go quickly from this evil place, or perchance those
devils will return and capture you as they have captured me, that they
may torture you to death as they are torturing me. Oh, how did you come?
I know the doors are locked and bolted. Are you devils in human guise,
or hapless prisoners like myself? Oh, if you are still free, go -- go
ere they can return! They know that they cannot keep me much longer;
they are thirsting for another victim. Let them not return to find you
here; and plunge your own dagger into your heart sooner than be made a
slave as I have been!"
These words were not all spoken at once, but were gasped out bit by bit
whilst the twin brothers, with wrath and fury in their hearts, cut the
tough thongs that bound the wrists and ankles of the boy, and raised his
head as they poured down his throat the strong cordial that had been
given to them by John, and which was a marvellous restorer of exhausted
nature.
They had food, too, in a wallet, and they made the boy eat before they
told him aught of their mission; and after the first gasping words of
warning and wonder, it seemed as though he obeyed their behests
mechanically, most likely taking it all for part and parcel of some
strange vision.
But as the sorely-needed nourishment and the powerful restorative did
its work upon the boy, he began to understand that this was no vision,
and that something utterly inexplicable had befallen him, whether for
weal or woe his confused senses would not tell him. He heard as in a
dream the hurried explanations of the boys, drawing his brows together
in the effort to understand. But when they spoke of flight he shook his
head, and pointed to the door leading into the house.
"No man may pass out of that," he said, in low despairing tones. "How
you came in I cannot even guess. It is guarded by a fierce hound, who
will tear in pieces any who approaches save his master. There is no way
of escape for me. If you are blessed spirits from the world above, fly
hence the way you came. For me, I must ever remain the slave of him who,
if not the devil himself, is his sworn servant."
"We will go, and that quickly," answered Raymond; "but thou shalt go
with us. We are no spirits, but let us be such to thee for the nonce.
Fear nothing; only trust us and obey us. If thou wilt do both these
things, thou shalt this very night escape for ever from the tyranny of
him whom thou hast served so long in such cruel bondage."
The boy looked at the face bending over him, instinct with courage and a
deep sympathy and brotherly love, and a strange calm and security seemed
to fall upon him. He rose to his feet, though with some difficulty, and
laid his hand in Raymond's.
"I will go with thee to the world's end. Be my master, and break the
hated yoke of that monster of wickedness, and I will serve thee for
ever. Thou art a ministering spirit sent from Heaven. I verily believe
that thou canst free me from this slavery."
"Kneel then and lift thy heart in prayer to the Great God of Heaven and
earth," answered Raymond, a strange sense of power and responsibility
falling upon him at this moment, together with a clearer, purer
perception of divine things than had ever been vouchsafed him before --
"ay, here in this very place, polluted though it may be; for God's
presence is everywhere, and it may be He will give thee, even in this
fearful chamber of abominations, that release of soul which is the right
of each of His human creatures. Kneel, and lift thy heart in prayer. I
too will pray with thee and for thee. He will hear us, for He loves us.
Be not afraid; pray with boldness, pray with love in thine heart. God
alone can loose the bands of the thraldom which binds thee; and He wilt
do it if thou canst trust in Him."
First making the sign of the cross over the kneeling boy, and then
kneeling by his side, Raymond directed his crushed spirit to rise in an
act of devotion and supplication; and the child, believing that most
assuredly a divine messenger had come to deliver him from the hand of
his persecutor, was able to utter his prayer in a spirit of trust and
hope that brought its own immediate answer in a strange calm and confidence.
"Come," said Gaston cautiously; "we must not longer delay. We have a
long night's ride before us, and John will be wondering what detains us
this long while."
Together they supported the feeble steps of the boy, who was passive and
quiet in their hands. He was scarce amazed by the opening of the
mysterious inner door within a vaulted arch, through which he saw from
time to time his captors disappear, but which was ever firmly bolted and
barred upon the outer side. He did not even hang back through dread of
what might befall him if he were again recalled, as on a former
occasion, by the diabolic arts of his master. He was so firmly persuaded
of the supernatural character of these visitors, that he had faith and
strength to let them do with him what they would without comment,
question, or remonstrance.
When they reached the outer air, after having successfully passed the
secret door again, he gave one great gasp of surprise and reeled as if
almost intoxicated by the sweet freshness of the spring night; but the
strong arms of his protectors supported him, and hurrying along through
the woodland tracks already traversed earlier in the evening, they
quickly approached the appointed place just on the outskirts of the
Basildene lands, where John, attended by three trusty serving men,
together with the old woodman, were impatiently awaiting the return of
the twins.
"We have him safe!" cried Gaston, as he bounded on a few paces in
advance; and as the words were spoken there broke from the lips of the
old woodman a strange inarticulate cry.
He sprang forward with a swiftness and agility that seemed impossible in
one so bent and bowed, and the next minute he had clasped his son in his
arms, and was weeping those terrible tears of manhood over the emaciated
form clasped to his breast.
Leaving the father and son for a few moments together, the brothers in
rapid words told their tale to John, who heard it with great
satisfaction. But time was passing, and there was no longer any need for
delay. The journey before them was somewhat rough and tedious, and all
were anxious to put many miles of forest road between themselves and
Basildene ere the dawn should break.
John did not greatly fear pursuit. He did not believe that the old man's
occult powers would enable him to track the fugitive; but he was not
certain of this, and the rest were all of opinion that he both could and
would follow, and that remorselessly, the moment he discovered the loss
of his captive.
Certainly it could do no harm to put all possible distance betwixt the
boy and his master, and the party got to horse with the smallest
possible delay. Once let the boy be placed within the precincts of the
Sanctuary for which he was bound, in the keeping of the holy man of God
whose power was known to be so great, and none feared for the result.
But if the boy should be seized upon the road with one of his fits of
frenzy, no one could tell what the result might be, and so there was no
dissentient voice raised when a quick start and a rapid pace was
suggested by Gaston.
The woodman took his boy in front of him upon the strong animal he
bestrode. Roger was plainly unfit to sit a horse unsupported by a strong
arm, and as they rode through the chill night air a dull lethargy seemed
to fall upon him, and he slept in an uneasy, troubled fashion. Every
moment his father feared to hear him answer an unheard call, feared to
feel him struggle wildly in his encircling arm; but neither of these
things happened. Mile after mile was traversed; the moonlight enabled
the party to push rapidly onward. Mile after mile slipped away; and just
as the first dim rays of dawn appeared in the eastern sky, John, who was
himself by this time looking white and jaded, pointed eagerly towards a
spire rising up against the saffron of the sky to the south.
"That is the spire of St. Michael's church," he cried. "The abode of the
holy men of whom Father Paul is one is nigh at hand. Ride on, good
Gaston, and bid the holy man come forth in the name of the love of the
Blessed Saviour. If we may once put the child in his keeping, the powers
of hell will not prevail to snatch him thence."
Gaston, who was the freshest of the little band, eagerly pressed onward
with his message. His tired horse, seeing signs of habitation, pricked
up his ears, and broke into an eager gallop. The youth quickly
disappeared from the eyes of his companions along the road; but when
they reached the monastery gate they saw that his errand had been
accomplished. A tall monk, holding in his hand a crucifix, advanced to
meet them, with a word of blessing which bared all heads; and advancing
to the side of the woodman's horse, he took the apparently inanimate
form of the boy in his arms, and looking into the wan face, said:
"Peace be with thee, my son. Into the care of Holy Church I receive
thee. Let him who can prevail against the Church of God pluck thee from
that keeping!"