At the top of the stairs there was an open door, from which what light
there was in the sky streamed out upon the landing-place, upon the old
oaken bannister which guarded the descent, and upon one half of the
flight of steps to the floor below. This light was so bright, so
clear, compared with that upon the common, especially when separated
from it by the darkness of the stair-case, that Margaret and Ralph
both thought for a moment that the clouds had cleared away, and that
the sunshine was streaming through some window that they could not
see. Such is the common effect of mounting to a high point when the
atmosphere is very thick; but these two young people had never
experienced it before, and they were surprised when they found, on
looking up, that, through what they termed a window in the roof--in
other words, a sky-light--the sky appeared as gray and clouded as
ever. Now these sky-lights are supposed by many to have been unknown
at the period I speak of, and the vanity of modern discovery leads men
to believe that many things are new inventions which were as well
known to our ancestors as to ourselves. It is the general introduction
of comforts and conveniences that is slow; the discovery of them is
often made centuries before they are applied.
There was a regular sky-light, with a small portion giving light to
the top steps, while the larger part served to illumine the room
beyond, the door of which was open.
The interior of the room was visible entirely to the eyes of Margaret
and Ralph as they ascended, and very different was it from that of the
learned Doctor Sidrophel, as described by Butler. It was nearly
destitute of furniture. There were two chairs and one table, formed of
old hard oak, upon which stood a telescope, pointing toward the
sky-light I have mentioned. Beside it lay a number of mathematical
instruments, and an enormous number of pieces of paper, or card, on
which were inscribed an infinite quantity of lines and figures, only
understood by the initiated. There were no stuffed beasts in the room,
no skin of alligator or large lizard; but upon a board at the side
were inscribed with a piece of chalk innumerable inscriptions and
strange figures, which Margaret did not at all comprehend. Near the
table--the only table which was to be seen--stood the master of the
house, dressed in long black garments, with boots of yellow morocco
leather. In short, his whole dress was singular, and at once denoted
the profession of an astrologer. It was not gaudy, nor in bad taste.
It seemed not as if he thought to proclaim his pretensions, but merely
adopted a peculiar garb for his own convenience. His figure and
appearance were impressive. He was a tall, powerful man of more than
six feet in height, and unbowed by the weight of years, although many
must have rolled over that tall, smooth brow, and the bald crown
above. The hair on the temples and back of the head was as white as
driven snow; but the eyebrows were still black as night, and but few
wrinkles appeared in the soft, smooth skin, which was as fair and soft
as that of any lady in the land.
At the moment when the lovers approached the door of the room, he was
looking anxiously at some papers in his hand, and he seemed wholly
engrossed by the subject of the moment. He moved not from the position
in which he stood, but simply repeated once or twice the words "Come
up!" and it was not until Margaret and Ralph had been some moments in
the room that he moved his eyes to ascertain who were his visitors. At
length he fixed a keen and eager glance upon them, and asked, in no
very gentle tone, "What brings you here, young people? Come you to
seek information of the past, or the present, or the future? I can
tell you either, and will tell you; for I know you too well to fancy
that it is some lost spoon, or strayed sheep, or any idle nothing of
village life which brings you here, as so many are brought, to inquire
of the _wise man_, whom they only think wise because he is different
from themselves in their own foolishness."
He spoke in a somewhat sneering manner, and Ralph answered in a calm
but bold one, "We have heard, sir," he said, "that you have studied
deeply sciences of which we know nothing, and that you are capable of
giving us information, or at least believe so, regarding our future
fate. But you seem to know who and what we are already, and now we
desire to hear, not what may be judged or fancied from the
probabilities of our existing situation, but rather that which is
indicated by science and calculation."
"You are a scholar, sir," said the astrologer, looking at him from
head to foot, "and doubtless hold in contempt the things which other
ages venerated. It is the mood of young scholars; but it matters not.
I do know you both well. I know you from the cradle until now. The
past, the present, and the future, as it regards you, are all before
me. I knew when you would come here, and that was why I told you to
come up, though I am not willing to be interrupted in my studies at
this hour. Now, Ralph Woodhall, what would you that I should tell you?
and you, Mistress Margaret, what is it you desire of me? Would you
fair dreams and specious promises, visions of bright and golden
happiness, love and enjoyment, long life, and a good old age? You will
have none such from me. Do you wish to hear the truth, or do you not?
Are you bold enough, fearless enough, to look upon the future with an
unwinking eye, and shape your course accordingly?"
"I am," replied Margaret, in a firmer tone than might have been
expected from her previous agitation; "it is for that I come. Say,
Ralph, is it not better that we should know what is in store for us,
than go on in doubt and uncertainty?"
Ralph was silent. There was something so impressive in the old man's
mariner, a strong conviction, so clear in his own mind, that some
belief was compelled; and yet the youth did not wish to acknowledge
that he placed any reliance on the other's pretended science. The
pride of argument and reason was against it; and he paused so long
that the other went on with a somewhat angry frown.
"You are incredulous," he said, "or would seem so. Happily for you,
belief or unbelief can not affect in any degree the immutable decree
of Fate. Now mark me. I need not the day and hour of your birth. I
know them both right well, and I will tell you broadly that which is
coming. To you, lady, in the first place, let me say the little I have
to say. Be true; be cautious; persevere! Strive not in any degree to
resist what seems impending over you. Yield to it, without a pledge;
but keep your troth pure and unsullied at the last, and you shall
still be happy."
"But not without him," exclaimed Margaret, laying her hand upon
Ralph's arm, and looking up in the old man's face eagerly, "not
without him, or it can not be true happiness."
The cloud passed away from the old man's brow, and he looked at her
with a smile the most sweet and benignant. "Truth will always make
happiness," he said; "without truth there can be none. You know how
you are plighted to each other. Be true to each other, and you shall
be happy; but it will not be without sorrow, and trial, and
difficulty. Now to you, young gentleman, I will speak. You are full of
vain hopes and expectations; love makes you ambitious; and I tell you
that you shall see one bright prospect fade away after another, and
hopes extinguished as soon as they are born. You shall struggle on
against hope, and meet with disappointment after disappointment. This
is your course. Lo, I have told you!"
He paused for a moment, gazing fixedly upon the countenance of Ralph
Woodhall, and then added, in a lower tone, "But persevere; be true,
and be happy in the end. In the moment when you least expect it--by
the means you least foresaw--your fate shall be worked out, and your
success accomplished. But hark! there are others coming who must not
find you here. Get you into this other room; keep you as still as
death, and wait till they are gone."
Thus saying, he opened a door in the wainscot, disclosing a small
chamber, utterly without furniture, and with one little window looking
out upon the moor. There was a sound of horses' feet, and people
speaking below; and the moment after the great bell rang, scaring
Margaret and her lover into their place of concealment with very
hurried steps. The voice of the old man was then heard, calling from
the top of the stairs, in his loud, sonorous tones, "Come up!" and the
instant after, another tongue was heard, shouting, "Where the fiend
are you? Do you hide yourself in the attic? Truth they say lies in a
well, and wisdom, it seems, at the top of the house."
"Wisdom and truth are not so far separate," said the old man, speaking
rather to himself than to the other.
At the same moment, Margaret, who had been leaning on Ralph's arm,
took a step forward, and shot a heavy bolt that was upon the door into
the staple; and then, raising her beautiful lips toward her lover's
ear till the sweet breath fanned his cheek, she whispered, "It is the
voice of Robert Woodhall, your cousin and mine, Ralph, though nearer
akin to you than to me."
"Little akin in kindness," replied the other, in the same low tone; "I
have not seen him for seven or eight years, so I may well forget his
voice. His haughty, imperious mother treated me so ill, and abused me
so much when last I was at the castle, that I will never go again."
Margaret laid her finger on her lips, terrified lest their retreat
should be disclosed by any sound; for steps were now heard coming fast
up the stairs, and there seemed to be more than one visitor
approaching. The next instant a voice sounded in the neighboring room,
which both Margaret and Ralph knew well, for it was that of her own
brother; and though it was more civil in its tone than that of the
first who spoke, there was a great deal of that rough levity in the
words, which was much affected by the young and dashing nobility of
the day.
"Good-morning to you, Moraber," he said; "I have brought my cousin
here, Lord Coldenham's son; or, rather, as I should say, Lord
Coldenham's brother. We want to see which way the hunt has taken. I
tell him you are a wise man, and he says to me nay, for that no wise
man would live in this moor."
"Fools might be made judges of wise men, and yet not much hanging done
in the land," replied the person he called Moraber; "not for want of
folly enough in the judges, but for want of wise men to be judged."
"Come, Master Moraber, or whatever is your name," said the voice of
Robert Woodhall, "show us a trick of your art. What in the fiend's
name is this you have got on the table?"
"Something that you can not understand," replied the other; "an
instrument that makes me see things that you can not see. What are you
holding out your hands for? Do you suppose that I practice chiromancy?
or do you come hither for the purpose of insult? If so, beware of your
neck; for that window is high, and you may have a speedy path to the
bottom."
"No, I don't come to insult you," replied the voice of the other, in
somewhat craven tones; "how the devil should I know how you tell
people's fortunes?"
"If you want palmistry, go to the Egyptians; I deal not with such
trash. The luminous influences which rule the destinies of mankind,
and which have been read with truth and certainty, from the days of
the Chaldean sages down to this present hour, are the letters of the
book I study. If you wish to know any thing that they may say
regarding your fate, put your questions and I will answer them; for I
have the horoscope of every man, above the rank of a churl, within
fifty miles of this place."
"I don't know well what to ask," replied the voice of Robert Woodhall;
and there seemed to be a whispered consultation between him and his
young companion. "Yes, yes, ask him that," said the voice of
Margaret's brother.
"Well, then," said Robert Woodhall, aloud, "tell me, if you can, in
all these choppings and changes of the times, what shall become of the
two kindred houses of Coldenham and Woodhall?"
"They shall be reunited," said the old man, at once and decidedly,
"and that before four years are over."
"Ay! How is that to be?" said the voice of Robert Woodhall, seemingly
puzzled by the reply; and then, after a moment's pause, he added, "I
suppose you mean that I shall marry my fair cousin Maggy."
Margaret's hand pressed tight on Ralph Woodhall's arm, and her
beautiful eyes fixed straining upon the door, as if she hoped that
their earnest gaze might reach the face of the old man, and read upon
it the answer ere it was uttered. The next moment, however, she heard
him reply, "I did not say so. I tell you what is to be, not how it is
to be."
"Well, then, tell me," exclaimed Robert Woodhall, in a more serious
tone, "shall I marry my cousin Margaret?"
"You shall go to the altar with her," replied the old man; but, ere he
could end the sentence, her brother Henry exclaimed, "You must have
changed your manners, and your morals too, Robby, before then, or I
tell you fairly I would stop it, even if it were at the altar step."
"It is not for you to stop it, young man," said the other deep-toned
voice; and then, suddenly breaking away from the subject, the old man
exclaimed, "There! if you desire to know which way the hunt has gone,
lo! there it goes over the fens hard by, and, if they take not good
heed, many a horse, and perhaps some men, will leave their lives
there."
"There it goes," cried Robert Woodhall; "come, Hal, come! Do not let
us stand wrangling and befooling ourselves here; let us to horse and
after them;" and the next instant was heard the sound of the two young
men's steps running rapidly down the stairs.
In the mean time, Margaret leaned her forehead upon Ralph Woodhall's
shoulder and wept; and, after a brief pause, the old man endeavored to
open the door from the other side.
Ralph drew back the bolt, but there were two sad faces which met
Moraber's eyes; for both the lovers had read his words in one sense,
and both, if the truth must be told, put some faith in them.
"Why weeping?" said the old man, gazing kindly at Margaret.
"You told me," said the beautiful girl, "to be true, and I should be
happy. How can I be either true or happy if I am to wed that man--a
man whom I abhor, a man who frightens me?"
The old man smiled. "It shall all be as I have said," he replied,
"though you can not see the how or the when. If the book of fate, dear
lady, could be laid open before your eyes, it would appear to you only
full of darkness and contradictions, unless you could perceive all the
myriads of fine links and intricate threads which unite event and
event together. These I myself can not see, and much that my art
discloses seems contradictory to me as well as yourself. Nevertheless,
that it _shall be_ I know; and if you find that my words come not
true, and all seeming contradictions melt away, I give you both leave
to call me liar and fool, and if I be still living, pluck me by the
beard in the public street. Nay, more, in compassion for your
weakness, and your partial want of faith, you may, when you find
events seemingly going contrary to my prediction, come to me, send to
me, write to me in your dread and apprehension, and I will give you
renewed assurance, and, perhaps, clear information. Be not afraid,
dear lady; have faith, and it shall go well."
Margaret shook her head and sighed, and the old man, turning to her
lover, asked, in a low tone, "When do you go forth?"
"In two or three days," replied Ralph; "but how did you know I was
going forth?"
The old man smiled. "I should be little worth consulting," he replied,
"if I knew not so trifling a thing as that. In two or three days! You
must take a long ride before that. You must go to a place you have not
seen for years, and to people that you love not. To-morrow morning
early, instead of hanging about the nest of this sweet bird, mount
your horse and ride away to Coldenham Castle; see the proud old lady,
see her eldest son. She will receive you ill, and treat you with
neglect, perhaps contempt. But laugh at it, Ralph Woodhall, laugh at
it; and mark every thing that you see in every chamber that you
enter--every chair, and table, and decoration, and piece of tapestry.
You shall be better than she is some day, and have rooms as fine, and
ornaments as gorgeous. If the woman is very fierce, just say to her,
calmly, that she has not done you justice, and that the day will come
when she must think better of you."
"But I love not to go near her," replied Ralph; "she is hateful to me
in many respects--a bold, harsh, bad woman; and, moreover, I see not
the use in visiting one whose only intercourse with my father or
myself led to total estrangement between him and his lordly cousin,
and to my mortification and injury."
"Go!" said the old man, in a tone of authority. "Go! as I have told
you; let her not say that you slunk out of your native county without
venturing to see your nearest relations. Perchance she may offer to
advance your views."
"Then I would spurn her offers with contempt," replied Ralph.
"What!" cried the other, laying his finger lightly upon Margaret's
hand, which rested on the table; "what! with this in view?"
"Margaret could never wish me to do a mean and base thing," answered
Ralph, "even for the greatest happiness that Heaven could bestow."
"Go, at all events," repeated the other, with a look not altogether
dissatisfied; "refuse or accept her good offices as you will; but go!
and now mark me further, youth: you will need a servant with you on
your wanderings. I know where you will find one who will suit you."
"Alas! good sir," replied Ralph, "I have no means to indulge in such
attendance. I can neither afford to pay a servant or to feed him."
"Did I not say that I knew one who would suit you?" asked the other,
"and when I said that I meant that he would suit you in all respects.
The one I speak of will have payment of a certain kind, but not from
you, and as to the rest, he will find means to feed himself; you must
take him with you, for he may be needful. Now remark: as, on your
return homeward from the castle, you pass through the village of
Coldenham, you will see a low white house, six doors beyond the
church; you will know it by the beams of the frame-work shining in
lozenges through the whitewash, and by the gables being turned to the
road; stop at the door, and ask for Gaunt Stilling: a lad will come
out to you, and you have but to say to him, Moraber says you are to be
at Halling's corner at such an hour of such a day, in order to go
through the world with me; and if you are punctual to the time you
tell him, you will find him at the place to the moment of the
appointed time. Ask him no questions, indulge no vain curiosity, and
he will serve you well and faithfully. Nay, more, he will, in case of
need, be able to communicate quickly with me, should I not be here
when you need counsel and assistance."
Ralph mused a moment, and then, looking up frankly, answered, "This is
all strange enough, but I will do as you desire. I hear all the people
round say that you are a good and kind man; that you cure them of
their ailments, relieve them in their need, and often, by your timely
help, turn the trembling scale of fortune in favor of the good and the
industrious. You would not do aught, I am sure, to raise hopes that
are vain, or to thwart efforts that are honest."
"I would not," replied the old man, solemnly, "but I would do the
reverse. And now it is time for both of you to speed home. The hunt
will soon be over. Do you know the way by the black lane?"
Ralph answered that he did; and saying "Take that, it is the safest,"
the old man led Margaret to the top of the stairs.