THE OLD HOUSE AT PYCROFT
Strange as it may seem, I had during the time I had been with this woman
wellnigh forgotten my own desire to enter this old house in the midst of
the Pycroft woods. My own mission had somehow become dim and unreal. My
interest in the strange journey of my companion had been so strong that
nothing else seemed of much importance. Nay more, although my plan of
accompanying her to this place, in order that I might gain knowledge of
the thing I desired to possess, first helped me in my determination, I
had never considered the reasons which should induce her to come hither.
That she went there at the command of the man at the inn was plain
enough, but why he wished her to go I had not even tried to surmise. The
reason for this was, I suppose, owing to the fact that I was carried
away by the excitement of the hour.
Now that we were within sight of the house, however, everything came to
me like a flash of light. I realized that I was not only the companion
of the woman, who at the bidding of her husband travelled to this lonely
house at midnight, but that I had travelled thither that I might also
discover the secret that lay therein. Then another thought struck me.
Might not my own quest be associated with hers? Why did the man send her
hither? It was for no light matter. Coward although I believed him to
be, a midnight journey such as this must have sufficient reasons.
Moreover, how could I help this woman--for this I had determined to
do--unless I knew the reasons of her obedience?
My mind, I remember, was strangely clear at the moment. Excited as I
was, all the issues came to me plainly, and I felt I must form some
plan of action without delay. During the whole journey I had asked her
no questions concerning the inmates of Pycroft Hall. According to the
man in the inn the place was inhabited only by the spirits of the dead.
Solomon the Fool, as he had been called, was dead, and the place had
fallen into ruins. Nevertheless some one lived there. The man at the inn
had said something about an "old man," from whom the woman was to obtain
what he desired. What did this mean? Who was this old man? And what
connection had he with the person to whom Katharine Harcomb had
referred?
All these things whetted my curiosity, and made me determine to
penetrate the secret of the light at the little mullioned window, and to
learn what lay within the grim dark walls. I therefore hurried to the
woman's side.
"Do you realize what you are doing?"
"Ay, I realize."
"But you must not go in there alone."
"Yes, I must go alone."
"No, I shall accompany you."
"You must not. You dare not."
"I must, and I dare," I replied. "I have promised to protect you, and I
shall keep my word."
"Ay, and you promised not to interfere with me," she said. "I have your
word as a gentleman. Besides if you went in there your life would not be
worth a groat. You would never leave it alive."
"Why? Is it the home of a band of robbers?"
"It is the home of darkness. Besides, I must go alone--alone I tell you.
Things are done behind those walls from which you could not protect me,
from which no one can protect me save him who--who will not."
"Then why go?"
"Because I must. Because--but what is that to you? You have accompanied
me hither against my will. You have given me your word of honour not to
hinder me in the work I have to do--to try and learn nothing from me
which I do not wish to tell you."
"I am determined to protect you," I said. "If there is danger there for
me, there is danger for you. Nay more. I am a man and can protect
myself, while you are a woman, weak and helpless."
"Weak and helpless!" She turned to me with flashing eyes as I had seen
her first. "I am neither weak nor helpless," she said angrily. "I do not
carry a sword, but I have weapons of which you know nothing, Master
Rashcliffe. Moreover if you dare to hinder me I will use them, and
perhaps against you."
Was this an empty threat, or was there some meaning behind it? Certainly
she looked as though she might carry her words into effect, and I
realized that although she had been moved to tears during the journey,
she was no weak, helpless creature, but a strong woman, capable and
self-reliant. It came to me then, moreover, as I have discovered since,
that it must have been something beyond the ordinary to cause her to
obey the man at the inn in this matter, even although he exercised a
husband's control over her. Still I was not to be daunted by a woman's
anger, and I answered calmly but firmly--
"I will keep to my words," I said; "I will ask you no questions which
you do not desire to answer; but because I am determined to protect you
I will discover the secret of this house."
At this she looked steadily in my face again, and by this time there was
sufficient light for her to see my features plainly.
"Then let me tell you this," she said quietly. "If you seek to enter
with me you will place me in danger. You will,--but never mind. If you
desire to befriend me, I beseech you not to enter with me. Even now,
even by being with you here, I may be writing my own death warrant. Oh,
you do not know, you do not know! If you desire to go there," and here
she pointed towards the light that still twinkled from the window, "well
go, although I would beseech you never to seek to penetrate those walls.
But do not come with me now. If you do I am undone."
She spoke in a low tone, scarcely above a whisper, but there was such
intensity in her voice, almost amounting to agony, that my heart failed
me. Moreover I considered that if I went with her I should not be able
to discover the thing I desired. I reflected that above everything my
work must be done in secret, and to go with her would be out of accord
with the plans I had been formulating.
"Has the person who caused the light to shine there power over you?" I
asked.
"I will answer you nothing. Find out what you will and how you will, but
do not seek to go with me."
I do not think she fully realized what she was saying, so eager was she
to be alone. I could see that she desired at all costs to be rid of me,
and at that moment I thought of a plan whereby I could seemingly yield
to her desires and still have my own way.
"But what would you have me do?" I asked.
"You desire to help me?"
"Yes. I have said so. Nay, I am determined to protect you."
She hesitated a second.
"Then stay here until I return. I shall not be long, at least I do not
think so."
"But if you are in danger there?"
"If I am, and I need your help, I will cry out loud enough for you to
hear me."
"Then I may enter?"
"Then you may enter--yes, if you can."
There was mockery in her tones, but it was the mockery of despair.
"Very well," I replied quietly, "I will obey."
She looked at me eagerly.
"And you will not interfere with me?"
"No."
"And you will remain here hidden from sight?"
"I will stay outside, hidden from sight, but I shall be near to help in
case of need."
She heaved a sigh as I spoke, a sigh with a tremble in it, and I knew
she feared to do the work that lay before her, whatever it might be. But
she did not hesitate. Walking in the direction of the house, which was
about a musket shot away, I saw her walk steadily across the open space
that lay between me and the house, and a little later was lost behind
the dark shrubs that grew close to what I thought looked like the
entrance to the building.
I waited in silence, straining every nerve to catch the least approach
of sound, and presently heard the sound of voices. After that all became
silent. The light still shone from the window, which as I have said was
partly hidden by an evergreen tree that grew near. The fever of
discovery was now hot upon me. I remembered the woman's words, "Find out
what you can, and how you will, but do not seek to go with me," and I
determined to act upon them. Evidently she believed that I could
discover nothing from the outside, but I believed otherwise. It was this
belief which caused me to yield to her wishes and remain outside. No
sooner, therefore, did the sound of voices cease than I went stealthily
across what had at one time been a lawn towards the evergreen tree I had
seen growing near the window. I saw in a moment that it suited my
purpose, and a few seconds later I was perched on a branch on a level
with the window from which the light had been shining, but which was now
dark even as the others were. This, as may be imagined, ruined my plans.
My desire had been to look through the window, and so watch what took
place in the room, and now everything had come to naught. Still I
waited. I reflected that the light meant some living person in the room.
It suggested that whoever lived in the old house used this part of it as
a dwelling place. Even if the light was gone now it might be brought
back presently, and I had plenty of time to wait. Meanwhile I placed
myself in a position to watch the window, while the trunk of the tree
was such an excellent protection that any one could pass under it, and
look up at it, without ever dreaming that I was there. As far as I could
judge the tree was about twenty yards from the house, thus while it was
not near enough for me to hear much, it enabled me to see clearly.
I had not been there more than a minute when a light shot from the
window again, and I was enabled to see the interior of the room. But
this was of no great use to me, even although I saw on a table many
things which were strange to me, and which even now I cannot describe.
What was of interest to me was an old man carrying a candle. I could not
see his face as plainly as I desired, for the panes of glass were small,
while in the centre of each one was a large lump which wellnigh blurred
any object which lay behind. Presently, however, I saw that one of the
panes had been broken, and by means of this I was able to see clearly.
But my range of vision was narrowed. As I have said the panes of glass
were small, and so I could not see the whole of the room; still, by
means of supporting myself by holding the trunk of the tree and
stretching as far as I could in each direction, I was able to obtain a
view of a large part of the room.
After some trouble, therefore, I could see the old man's face more
plainly. I saw that he was very old and looked dirty and unkempt beyond
relief, his hair being in tangled wisps over his shoulders, while his
beard seemed to wellnigh reach his waist. But old as he was there were
no signs of decrepitude. His movements were quick and decided. His hands
were steady, while there was an eager look on his face. His eyes were
wellnigh hidden by his huge overhanging forehead and his bushy eyebrows,
but as far as I could judge his sight was not dim.
No sooner had he entered than he was followed by another form. This I
saw in spite of the badly made glass, but who it was I was not sure. It
might have been a man, or a woman--I could not tell.
"The night is cold, come near the fire."
I heard these words plainly, but that was practically all I did hear
during the time I was there. As I have said, the tree on which I was
perched was twenty yards from the window, and except on this one
occasion nearly everything was said in a low voice.
But his words enabled me to see who the other occupant of the room was,
for at his behest the woman whom I had accompanied almost all the way
from Folkestone town came to a part in the room where I could see her
plainly. She had thrown off her headgear, and the heavy cloak which she
had worn, and when I saw her there I wondered more than ever what
business she could have with this old man. I have said that I thought
she was young when I saw her at first, but in the light of the candle
which fell straight upon her face she did not look more than nineteen
years old. Her hair had been disarranged by her journey, but I saw that
it lay in curling richness over her head. In colour it was glossy
brown, which was very near chestnut around the temples. Her features
seemed to me the most noble I had ever gazed upon. It reminded me more
of what I had read of the old Greek goddesses than of an Englishwoman.
Every feature was clearly cut, and but for the look which seemed to me
like despair which gleamed from her eyes, and rested on her face, I
thought she would be beautiful beyond any one I had ever seen.
Presently they both drew near the fireplace, and both stood within the
range of my vision at the same time. Then the strangeness of the
situation came to me more vividly than ever. The old man with his long
tangled locks of white hair, his head sunk in between his shoulders, his
long beard wellnigh reaching the middle of his body, and with eager
angry looks flashing from his deep sunk eyes, and the woman young and
beautiful, her face clearly outlined, but pale as death, her hair like a
flashing nimbus around her head, and her eyes fixed on the strange
specimen of humanity before her.
As I have said, I could catch little or nothing of the purport of the
conversation; but I saw that both looked eager and determined. Presently
after the woman had been speaking the man shrugged his shoulders, and
laughed mockingly. He spread out his large bony hands deprecatingly and
I could see from the expression on his face that he was telling her that
it was impossible to grant the request.
Then she changed her attitude. She appeared to be angry and to threaten
him. I saw her lift her right hand and point at him with her forefinger.
She seemed also to be urging something that made him afraid, for I saw
him look around the room like a man in fear. But this was only for a
moment. By the time she had finished speaking he had regained his former
self-possession and seemed to regard her threats as so many idle words.
Then I thought they changed places. He seemed to be making some request
of her, a request which I thought put fear into her heart, although she
yielded not to him. If she could not make him bend to her will neither
could he make her bend to his. What impressed me, moreover, was the
courage of this young girl. For although she might be the wife of the
man at the inn, ay, and even obeyed him in unreasonable requests, she
held her ground boldly before this old man living in the lonely house in
the midst of the Pycroft woods. But the wonder of it was to me beyond
words. A young girl fighting for her ends against this weird looking old
man. What was the meaning of it?
Presently their conversation seemed to change again. I saw her point to
the curious looking things which lay on the table, and this drew my
attention to what seemed to me like glass tubes, several strange looking
vases, and, what was to me more strange and mysterious still, two human
skulls. As she spoke he took up one of the skulls, and as far as I could
judge began to tell her something of the horrible thing which he held in
his hand.
To this she seemed to say something as if in protest for I heard his
answer, in a harsh cracked voice.
"Let them. They who would harm me must know my secrets, and they who
would know my secrets must penetrate the depths of this old brain. And
can they, ah, can they?"
Her reply to this did not reach me plainly, but I gathered that she told
him of men who for dealing with the powers of darkness had suffered at
the stake.
"Burn me!" he cried, and his voice reached me clearly. "Let them try.
Before a man is burnt, he confesses, and I would confess! Ay, I would
confess such things as would bring many a high head low. Judges, judges.
Ay, but who is the judge that would dare to anger me?"
He shook his fist angrily, while his long beard waved to and fro as he
shook his head in rage.
After this I could gather nothing for a long time. Sometimes they moved
to another part of the room and then I could see nothing but dim blurred
figures behind the thick uneven glass, while their voices only reached
me in low mutterings.
After a time they moved near the fireplace again, and then I saw another
look upon the girl's face. I saw fear and anxiety which I had not noted
before. Evidently he had told her of something, or she had somehow
discovered something, that moved her more deeply than anything which had
gone before. The look on her face was pleading, and she held up her
hands beseechingly. I saw, too, that the old man was evidently well
pleased with himself, for I heard him give utterance to a pleased little
cackle, which he intended for a laugh.
[Illustration: "I saw that the girl had fallen on her knees."]
"And if I do, and if I do, little Constance, what then?"
Again she spoke eagerly, passionately I thought, while the look on his
face became more and more full of self-satisfaction.
"Ah, ah," I heard him cackle, "so you discover that Old Solomon still
hath his wits, eh? That his bow hath many strings, eh? That he hath not
sold himself to the devil for naught, eh? Ah, ah, but it does an old
man's heart good to see you, pretty little Constance."
I had discovered her name at last. Constance. At that time I could think
of nothing sweeter, even although it was spoken by this withered,
wrinkled old man in tones of ribaldry and mocking. Put it down to my
youth if you will, but the knowledge of her name made me long to be her
friend more than ever.
I looked away towards the eastward sky, and saw a faint glow in the
horizon. Evidently morning was drawing near. In another hour the sun
would have risen, and I began to wonder how the strange visit would end;
but in another moment the thought of morning was driven from me, for I
saw that the girl had fallen on her knees before the strange old
creature. I caught no words, but that she pleaded with him was evident,
while more than once I heard her sobbing. I saw too that he seemed to be
relenting, nay, I thought I saw even tenderness on his creased
forbidding face, which was followed by a look of cunning.
"And if I do, what then?" I heard him say.
But of her answer I caught nothing, although I strained every nerve to
catch even the faintest sound.
"More than that, more than that, pretty Constance," I heard him say.
"Obedience, my pretty bird, obedience!"
And now I saw a look of terror in her eyes, yet did she keep on pleading
until the old man seemed to make up his mind to grant her request.
I saw him leave the room, while she stood like one transfixed. She was
standing where the light shone straight upon her face, so that I could
see every feature, but nevertheless I could read no story thereon which
revealed her secret. Courage I saw, tenderness I saw, nay, more it
seemed to realize that it was not her own battle that she was fighting.
What fear she had was not for herself. For who was it then? I could
think of no one save the man at the inn, and there came into my head a
great anger, and a desire to wrest the secret of his power over her from
him.
What led her to the window, I wondered. Was it the faint twitter of the
birds which began to bestir themselves at the rising of the King of Day,
or did she give a thought to me who had promised to wait outside for
her. I saw her place her face close against the glass and look steadily
out. What was in her mind, I asked myself. Did the thought that I was
near give her comfort or help? She could not see me, for it was yet dark
and I was almost hidden by the tree which I had climbed; nevertheless
she kept her face there until she was attracted, even as I had been
attracted, by a noise in the room.
She turned around quickly, and then I saw her move hastily away. She was
now behind the thick uneven glass again, so that I could see nothing
clearly, but I could have sworn that I saw another woman there. What she
was like I could not tell, for she never came to that part of the room
where I could see plainly. A minute later the woman who had been my
companion left the room with the other, while the old man stood watching
the door, with a look of doubt on his face, as if he doubted the wisdom
of what he had done. A moment later he followed them, leaving the room
in utter darkness.