THE PRIEST’S PEEP-HOLE.
As Nancy and I puffed and panted in as noiseless a manner as possible up
the steep hill from Brestgarn, we saw, or, more strictly speaking, we
heard all around us, foraging parties of the enemy, who were making off
with everything they could lay their hands upon. The screeching of
poultry, the quacking of ducks, the cackling of geese, the grunting and
squealing of pigs (I might go on as long as some foreign Delectus, but
that I fear to weary the reader) together with the oaths and laughter of
the Frenchmen, formed a medley of sound that might have been pleasing to
the ears of a musician composing a symphony on rural sounds, but that to
a more ordinary listener formed a hubbub of noise that was bewildering
and extremely distasteful; while poor Nancy’s vexation at the fate of the
dwellers in the farm-yard equalled her indignation at the use made of her
well-scrubbed pans.
Not a single inhabitant of this district seemed to be left, every cottage
was deserted; all had fled for the present, in order to turn again with
greater force and rend the intruder—as one may draw back for a space so
as to gain the necessary impetus for a spring.
We had reached the village of Llanunda, when we heard a considerable body
of the enemy marching along the road near us, on their way to take
possession of our rocky nest on the top of Carnunda. This very strong
position formed the enemy’s outpost, and it ought to have been a matter
of no small difficulty to oust them therefrom, had they but planted
themselves firmly in it.
To our great dismay we now heard voices approaching us from the other
side; these proved to be some of the foraging parties making themselves
acquainted with the larders and cellars of all the neighbouring houses.
We crouched down lower among the gorse bushes, and I at least knew
precisely the sensations experienced by a hunted and hiding hare. When
this danger, too, was happily overpast, at all events for the moment,
Nancy whispered to me—
“Dan, they are a deal too near us here, and there’s more coming. I know
a better hiding-place than this. Let’s make for the church.”
I assented willingly; and we made as fast as we could for the church. It
was a small but ancient building, full of queer holes and corners, with
the which Nancy was better acquainted than I was, it being her parish
church. The door was happily unfastened, but no Frenchmen had as yet
invaded the sacred building, for we took the precaution of looking
through the “leper’s hole” as soon as we had entered the porch. The
leper’s hole is a little square window, the sides of which are so sloped
as to command a view of the interior of the church, more especially of
the chancel; so that in the old times even these miserable wretches—set
apart in the porch—might still behold the high altar.
We then looked with eagerness through this orifice, and perceived gladly
that the building was dark and empty. So pushing open the door, we
entered our sanctuary as though it had been a veritable city of refuge.
Our first care was to secure the door as well as we could on the inside;
then Nancy sat down in order to fetch her breath, while I reviewed the
place and the situation. Neither were to my mind when I came to think of
it.
“What have you come here for, Nan?” I inquired. “I don’t like it—we’ll
be caught here like rats in a trap. We can’t hide in the pulpit. I’d
rather a gorse-bush in the open, now.”
“Wait a bit, Dan, till I fetch my breath—and don’t talk; they may hear
you,” said Nancy, not considering that she was talking herself.
“Oh do make haste with your breath,” said I, “and tell me where it is.”
I was full of curiosity to know where her hiding-place could be: the
church was pitch dark, a few minutes of silence there seemed an age.
“It’s not in a vault, is it?” I continued.
“A vault—bless the boy—no! I’m not going into a vault before I can help
it. Well, if you won’t be quiet, I suppose I’d better show you the
place. It is at the other side of the church. Come across quietly,
now.”
We did go across as quietly as we could, considering the pitch darkness
of the place, all blocked up with high pews according to the fashion of
the time. In my after-career I had often occasion to reprove the
occupiers of like boxes, who, trusting to their wooden walls to screen
them, slumbered happily within a few yards of me, utterly forgetful of
the treachery of their own noses.
After having injured her shins several times over unexpected obstacles,
Nancy sighed forth, “Oh for a light!”
“Oh for something to eat!” I responded. “I’ve got a flint and steel in
my pocket; but I can’t eat that. You can have it if you like.”
“I daren’t strike a light,” said Nancy; “but I’ve got a bit of cheese in
my pocket along with the silver spoons. Here, stretch out your hand.”
“Don’t you want it?” I felt impelled by manners to say this, though I
felt wolfish.
“Not I. I had my dinner as usual. I put it in my pocket in case of
meeting—a friend.”
“Do your—friends like cheese?” I asked with my mouth full.
“You seem to, any way,” retorted Nancy. “I hear them coming.”
I bolted the cheese in a panic. I felt much more afraid of the French
since I had seen them so near in Brestgarn kitchen, and since they had
nabbed Llewelyn.
“Here’s the hole—you go first. I’ll close it up after us with a pew
door.”
Nancy dexterously lifted one off its hinges, while I, mounted on the back
of a pew, groped my way into a pitch dark cavity in the wall, the
entrance to which was situated at the height of some three or four feet
above the floor-level.
“Take care, there are steps,” said Nan, just as I had discovered the fact
by the aid of my shin-bone. She was still wrestling with the pew door,
and I smothered my agony chiefly, I must own, from fear of the French.
“Get on a bit higher up, Dan,” whispered Ann, as she followed me,
dragging the door after her as quietly as she could. Nancy was certainly
a wonderful woman, with a head on her shoulders.
At this moment I felt that it was so, for I was propelled somewhat
violently upward by the member in question. I can also add my testimony
that she was a hard-headed woman. She was also perhaps a little
hard-hearted, for in answer to my remonstrance, “Hold hard, Nancy, that
hurts!” she merely said,
“Oh, do get on, Dan; I expect them here every minute.”
I did get on, and found after mounting half-a-dozen steps of a twirling
stair, that my head was opposite an opening just at the place where the
roof of the church sprung; one of the oaken beams was, in fact, a little
scooped out to make room for this slit, which being under the heavy
shadow of the woodwork was almost completely screened from the glances of
those below; while to the person placed behind this coign of ’vantage the
whole of the interior of the church was visible—chancel as well as nave.
“What a queer place—what’s it for, Nancy?” I asked.
“That is called the Priest’s Peep-hole; I suppose in old times he got a
friend to go up there and keep an eye on the congregation—see who went to
sleep, and what they were at altogether,” explained Nan; but at this
moment her eloquence came to a sudden end. Our voices and our hearts
died within us, for there came to our ears the dreaded but expected
sound—the clamorous jabber of many tongues.
The sounds came from the churchyard, but I doubt if even a company of
good Welsh ghosts would have frightened us as much as these earthly
foreigners. Very, very earthly and carnal-minded did they seem to us at
this moment.
“They won’t come into a church—they won’t rob a church!” I whispered to
Ann, leaning my head down close to her’s—a difficult feat, but I was as
thin as a lath then.
“Won’t they?” said Ann, scornfully. “You wait a minute—Hst!”
Nan’s appreciation of character and computation of time proved equally
correct. She had fixed the pew-door by this time, and she held it firmly
in its place by the handle, which she had taken care to put on the inward
side when she lifted up the barrier across the entrance to the stair.
“I hope they won’t fire through that like they did through the clock at
Brestgarn, on the chance of finding some one behind it,” I whispered to
my companion as this comfortable idea flashed through my mind, even the
terror of the French failing to curb my natural love of suggesting a
terror.
“Hst!” retorted Nan; “hold your tongue, can’t you, and keep your head
down; don’t let them see you peeping, Dan!”
Nancy’s caution to me came not a moment too soon, for crash! a rush of
men and muskets at the door, whose rickety bolts we had drawn when we
entered, chiefly in the hope that they might not be tried. But if we
drew them as a sort of charm, the spell was not strong enough, nor were
the locks.
C-r-a-ck—_crack_! the feeble bolts gave a groan, and open flew the door
with a sharp, splitting sound. In rushed ten or a dozen Frenchmen,
tumbling over one another in their haste. The church was lighted up with
a sudden blaze from their torches; this was all I saw, for on the
entrance of the enemy I had ducked my head speedily. Ann could see still
less, as she was crouched on the bottom step, and was keeping the door in
its place with her knees.
The noise in the church was terrific, but yet to my ears the beating of
my heart was still louder. The more I tried to silence it, the more it
ticked.
“Perhaps they’ll think it’s a clock,” I reflected.
“Oh, dear! oh, dear!”
Yet after a while, as I grew more accustomed to the clamour, I became
possessed by a desire to know what these men were doing. Very cautiously
I raised my head. I feared my hair must be standing on end, which would
make it more perceptible by an inch or two. Instinct had made me take
off my hat as we entered the building; in crossing the dark aisle I had
dropped it, and I hoped sincerely no one would find it, as it might lead
to unpleasant investigations. Planted finally on my hands and knees, I
raised myself till my eyes were on a level with the lowest part of the
priest’s peep-hole, and then, even veiling my eyes with half-closed lids
as a precaution, I glanced furtively forth at the foreign marauders
beneath me. They had not gone through the ceremony of removing their
hats, and their object in entering the sacred edifice was evidently
simply the hope of plunder. With the butt ends of their muskets they
knocked and thrust at everything, as if to ascertain of what it was made,
and whether anything of value might not be concealed within it. One
half-drunken fellow came and gave a mighty bang to the cushion belonging
to the pulpit, which he snatched from its proper position and dashed
against the wall, immediately under my spy-hole. I imagine that the
worthy incumbent must have been less given to pulpit thumping than most
of his fellows, for out flew a cloud of dust, reaching even to my
nostrils. A smothered sneeze was the result. Instantly I felt myself
violently pulled by the leg from below; indeed, so provoked was Nancy
that she could not resist giving me a shake, though I am sure the candid
reader will allow I was not to blame in the matter.
Unluckily the Frenchman had heard the sneeze, and some animated
conversation went on between him and his companions, who, however, seemed
inclined to ridicule his assertions. Judging from the tone of their
remarks (for Nancy held too tight a grip of me to allow of my seeing
anything), I should say that their language to each other was not so
polite as one might have expected from men of their nation. However, my
particular enemy did not seem inclined to allow himself to be set down
after this fashion; for, dropping his cushion, he proceeded to make an
investigation with his clubbed musket. Walls, pews, and benches, he
thumped them all indiscriminately, giving a sounding whack to the door
which closed our retreat. But Nancy’s knees did not flinch, though they
must have received a most unpleasant jar. Luckily the entrance to the
hidden stair was in a very dark and out-of-the way corner, and also at a
very unusual height from the ground. Mercifully at this moment our
tormentor’s attention was distracted by a shout from his comrades, who
had entered the little vestry, and had forced open the cupboard
containing the sacramental vessels. These were very ancient, and were of
silver, and the glee of the finders was easily understood even by those
in our retired situation.
Others of the invaders broke open the chest containing the parish
records, but, much disappointed by the nature of the contents, they tore
forth the documents and tossed them on the floor of the church. Human
nature was no longer to be restrained, neither by fear nor by Ann, so I
once more popped my head up and beheld a strange sight. One of the men
had thrown a torch in among the parchments and papers, a bright flame
lighted up the dark interior of the church, and shone on the fierce faces
of the men around the fire, two of whom were struggling for the
possession of the communion cup.
“Great Heaven, we shall be burnt like rats, Nan!” I whispered to my
companion, but she answered by her favourite expression, “Hst!”
One soldier, I imagine by way of a joke, now threw the pulpit cushion on
the flames, whereupon such dense clouds of smoke arose as speedily
cleared the church of the invaders, but alas, nearly stifled us, the
lawful inhabitants. Luckily the floor of the church was of slate, and
the fire was not very near any woodwork.
Nancy insisted that we must bear our suffocation in silence and
motionless, and though my eyes watered and my heart rebelled, not a cough
nor a wheeze, nor even a word, did I suffer to escape me, but to my
thoughts at least I gave free rein. After a while these too played the
truant, wandering away from my enemies and dreamily fixing themselves on
my master at St. David’s, my school friends, my books, the moving waters
that framed in every picture of my life, till, becoming more and more
indistinct, I imagine that I must have fallen fast asleep, though this is
a matter that none can speak of with any certainty till it comes to the
sharp act of awakening, which act assures us, in the most matter-of-fact
manner, that we have been asleep.
In this way, by a sharp fact, indeed, no other than Nancy’s elbow, I made
the discovery that, in spite of my uncomfortable position, I must have
fallen sound asleep, tired out by my long walk and many subsequent runs,
and fatigued also by the number of new ideas forced on my mind by the
action of the extraordinary events of the day and the many bewildering
things I had seen and heard since breakfast time that morning.
It seemed to me to have been but a few minutes from the time the French
left us choking in the smoke till I felt that elbow of Nancy’s, of which
I took no notice. Indifferent to this silent scorn, she now pulled me
vigorously by the leg.
“Wake up, Dan! Wake up, boy; we must get away from here at once; we
ought to have gone long ago, but I fell asleep, worse luck. Come now, at
once, it’s just daylight.”
We had, indeed, quite suddenly, as it seemed to me, reached the morning
of Thursday.
THURSDAY.
_THE SECOND DAY_.