HOW I ENTERED PYCROFT
Directly I had made up my mind to pay a second visit to Pycroft Hall my
spirits rose, and my heart grew warm. The thought of meeting the weird
old creature, and speaking with him face to face, stirred my blood, and
kindled my imagination. Moreover, for the first time the new king's
marriage contract became real to me. For what did not come to me through
the night came to me on the cliffs. And this I have found since then; it
is when I have a sense of freedom that I am able to think. When I am
beneath tall trees, or imprisoned within stone walls, my mind refuses to
grasp the issues of things. But when I stand in the light, in God's open
places, not only does my natural vision widen, but also the vision of
mind and soul becomes more keen and has greater range. The thoughts
which a man thinks in the dark, and in cramped places, are smaller than
those which come to him beneath the great dome of the sky, when the wind
blows free, and naught belittles his sight. At least this hath always
been the case with me. When I would think the best thoughts I am capable
of thinking, I long to live in a large place where the sunlight is
strong.
Through the night I had wondered blindly what drew the woman to Pycroft
Hall, and what was in the man's mind who sent her there, but no answer
came to me. Now, as I walked along the cliffs, in sight of the great sea
whose waters flashed brightly in the light of the early summer's sun, I
thought of many reasons. And this among others: If my father, and
Katharine Harcomb, and Lucy Walters' mother had heard of Pycroft Hall,
and of Elijah Pycroft, why not others? If I had been led to try and
obtain power over the king might not others? If the man who had sent
the woman to Pycroft at night were Sir Charles Denman, a man upon whom
the king's anger rested, would he not desire to move heaven and earth to
possess a secret whereby he could make terms with his monarch? If I had
heard of the king's marriage contract he also had heard of it, and had
sent his wife to obtain knowledge of the thing. But why had he sent her?
To this many answers came. For one thing he was afraid, and for another
he believed that this beauteous woman would succeed where he had failed.
Besides his power over her was great. She also lived in great fear, and
he used that fear in order to make her obey his behests.
All this seemed so natural that I called myself a fool for not thinking
of it before. Why had I allowed my opportunities to slip through my
hands? Besides, might not the woman have succeeded? What was the meaning
of the other woman entering? And more, whither had they gone?
But this did not trouble me much. There was no sign of victory on the
woman's face. Had she gained possession of such papers she would have
revealed her victory, whereas I had seen her face the moment before the
other woman had appeared, and it told only of yearnings and the shadow
of a great fear.
I am putting down these thoughts here, so that those who may hap to read
this may see the position in which I was placed, and the difficulties
that stood in my way. I am aware also that those whose thoughts are
clearer, and whose minds are better balanced than mine, may have good
reason for thinking that I had acted foolishly, and had taken altogether
the wrong way to accomplish my purpose. I would have them remember,
however, that I was but a lad of twenty-three, and that youth is not
famed for its discretion. Moreover, as I look back now, I wonder what I
could have done whereby I could better have accomplished the thing I had
set out to accomplish.
Before I had been on the cliffs an hour, I had made my plans, and these
I started to carry out without delay. First of all I went back to the
stable and had my horse saddled, and having ridden four miles in the
direction of Pycroft Hall, I cast my eyes around in the hope of seeing
some one. But no one was in sight. The neighbourhood was thinly
inhabited. Not a horseman was to be seen on the road, not a labourer was
working in the fields. I found out afterwards that practically the whole
country side had emptied itself in order to be present at the landing of
the king at Dover. That not knowing the exact day of his coming they had
gone to Dover a few days in advance so that they might be certain to be
there to give him a royal welcome. In truth I found out that for a full
week before the king came the town of Dover was a huge fair, and that
revelry continued from midnight to midnight without ceasing.
Presently, however, I caught sight of a man who was cutting wood by one
of the fences some distance away, whereupon I rode across the fields to
the place where he was.
He looked at me attentively, and then held the tool with which he worked
in such a way that I imagined he thought I meant to attack him.
"You be young for your work, young master," he said, eyeing me grimly.
"Why?" I asked pleasantly.
"Otherwise you would never come to a working man who has not a groat in
his pouch," he replied.
"Why, you think I am a footpad?" I asked.
"Else why should you gallop across hedges and ditches as though the
devil were behind you? Eh, young man, give it up. It only ends in the
gallows, and it must be a fearful life to live, always seeing the rope's
end dangling before your eyes."
"Instead of wanting to take your groats from you, my man, I will e'en
give you one instead. Nay, believe me, I am peaceably inclined, and
instead of being a highwayman I am making inquiries about an old house
which I am told is empty, and which may perchance be for sale."
Again he looked at me, and then touched his hat respectfully.
"You be from London, young master?"
"I left London less than a week ago," I replied. "I have come in search
of a house, and I have been told there is one near here, which being
empty and forsaken, a man might buy cheaply."
"The name o't, young master?" he said questioningly.
"It is called Pycroft, or some such name," I replied.
"And is it Pycroft you thought of buying, young master?"
"Rather, I am come to ask questions about it."
At this he laughed. "No man will ever live at Pycroft," he said.
"Why? Is not the house a good one?"
"It's the company, not the house I was thinking of."
"The company?"
"Many and many's the one who has thought of living at Pycroft, but no
man hath dared. Through the day it's right eno', but at night the
trouble begins. There is not a witch for twenty miles around but gets
her marks at Pycroft; there's not a witches' revel but is held there,
and as every man knows after they have met at their revels the devilry
begins. The corn is blighted, the cows give no milk, the murrain blights
the stock, children have the rickets, and everything goes wrong. I have
heard that it can be bought for an old song, but no man will buy it.
Through the day it seems all quiet and restful, but at night-time blue
fires have been seen there, awful smells come from there, ay, and the
devil hath been seen there."
These last words the man spoke with a shudder.
"It is said," he went on, "that the parson, who is a man of God if ever
there was one, and who is death on wizards and witches, is going to
appeal to the new king to have it blown up with gunpowder, so that we
may have peace and quietness again, and so that farmers may sow their
corn without fear that it will be blighted before harvest comes."
"But what is the cause of all this?"
"Ah, you are not from these parts, and have never learnt Solomon the
Fool lived there. Who he was nobody knows, but he came there long years
agone before I came to live in this parish, and I have heard that he had
dealings with the Pope o' Rome. Anyhow, some said that his life was in
danger, and in order to be match for all the world he sold himself to
the devil."
At this I could not help laughing, for although such stories were
generally believed in, that which I had seen the night before drove such
thoughts from me.
"Ay, you may laugh, young master, but it is no laughing matter. For
years he did things which no one can explain, and all sorts of things
happened. Then one day he died."
"Died!"
"Ay, it must be ten years agone now, and ever since then no man will go
near it after sundown. While the sun shines the devil dare not go there;
but after dark Old Solomon and the devil do come back, and there Old
Solomon do plead with the devil to give him back his soul."
Again I could not help smiling, even although the man's face was pale
with fear.
"Ay, young master, but let me tell you this: One night three of the
strongest men in these parts were over at the _Queen's Head_, in the
parish of St. John, drinking. You may have heard of them even in London.
Three brothers, and each man of them stood over six foot and a half
high. Well, they declared after they had each drunk a quart of strong
ale that they feared nothing under heaven. Then the landlord made a bet
that they dared not go and spend the hours from eleven to one o'clock in
the middle of the night at Pycroft. Well they took the bet, for five
pounds it was, and the next night Jack, and Jim, and Tom Turtle started
for Pycroft. A lot of us walked with them to the gates, and although we
were in great fear we waited for them to return. We comforted ourselves
by trying to sing psalms and saying our prayers, as the parson advised
us to do. But we didn't have to wait two hours, young master. Before
midnight they was back to us again, and each of them was trembling like
an aspen leaf."
"Why, what did they see?"
"Ay, master, we could never get that from them, except by little bits.
One spoke of blue flames, another told of howling, another said he had
seen Old Solomon come to life again, and he chased them through the
woods. The next day, when they told the parson, he went up there; but
naught could he see. Every door was locked and barred, every window was
fastened."
"And were there any evidences that any one had been there through the
night?"
"Ay, there were; the parson saw footmarks which were half the footmarks
of a man, and half of a beast. But that was not all. When the parson
tried to look into the place, through a window where a small pane of
glass was broken, he smelt brimstone--brimstone, young master. And since
then the parson hath it that while a man may be safe to go there while
the sun is shining, ten chances to one but he will be met with the devil
after sundown. And so no man will buy the house master, and no man will
go there after dark."
"But from whom did this old man Solomon get the house?" I asked.
"It is said that he was one of the Pycrofts, but I know not. Some have
it that old Lord Denman had it at one time, but I do not know. Others
say there's a spell cast upon it. Certain it is that the parson says
that on a huge stone near the front door these words are carved--
A Pycroft built this house
In the hardest of stone,
And the mortar was truly mixed
With a Pycroft's blood and bone,
If another here would live
Because of a well-lined purse,
The mortar shall become
The buyer's lasting curse."
In spite of myself the labourer's talk made me pause, but I was not the
son of my father for naught. The teaching of a lifetime was not to be
destroyed because of an ignorant man's vain babbling, and I held to my
resolution to visit the old place again that night. I therefore
presently rode back, and after a hearty meal I fell asleep, from which I
did not wake till sundown.
I gathered that no one asked any questions why I was there; in truth,
every man seemed too much interested in the coming of the king and the
changes that would be wrought in the land to trouble aught about me; so,
telling the landlord that I should not be back until late, I left the
inn about an hour after sundown and took a roundabout road to Pycroft.
Moreover, I took good heed that I was not followed, and by an hour
before midnight I had entered the dark woods that grew around the lonely
house.
Now, although I had carried a brave heart during daylight, I was not
able to choke down my fears in the darkness. I have been told that
nature hath given me firm nerves; moreover, I can meet a danger as well
as another man without shewing fear, but once within the shadow of the
woods which surrounded the haunted house I confess that my heart
wellnigh failed me. The stories which the labourer had related came back
to me with great vividness, so that before I had come within sight of
the house I seemed to be surrounded with all sorts of grinning things,
some of which lured me on, while others warned me against going farther.
The cracking of every twig made my heart beat faster, the twitter of a
startled bird told me that I was in a domain where the devil held his
revels and where spirits of darkness worked their will.
Still I determined to go forward. I was calm enough to know that on the
morrow I should laugh at these fancies, and that, did they hinder me
from carrying out my plans now, I should all my life accuse myself of
being a poltroon. Besides, what report should I have to give to my
father, the man who knew no fear and who would be ashamed of a son who
believed in old wives' fables? So I set my teeth firmly together and
trudged my way through the darkness, stopping every now and then to
listen if any one was near.
Never shall I forget my journey along that lonely pathway, for as I look
back now, it seems to mark an era in my life. But of that I must not
speak now: I will tell my story in as straightforward a way as I am
able, so that those who read may judge for themselves. And yet, if I
felt fear, I maintain that it was no wonder, for my experiences were not
those with which a man meets every day. Besides, I had but three days
left my home, where I had lived an uneventful life, and now to be cast
alone amidst mystery and danger was a matter of no small moment.
Presently I emerged from the woods into the open space where the woman
and I had stood on the previous night. I could see the moon, but it
seemed to sail in a hazy light, while around it was a great ring. Not a
sound could I hear. The songs of the birds had ceased; not an insect
moved its wings: all nature seemed asleep. After waiting a few moments,
scarce daring to look around me, I heard a sound like that of a distant
sigh; but it might have been only the night wind soughing through the
treetops, or it might have been only my own fancy. At length I dared to
look towards the house; but all was darkness, or at least so it seemed.
Then I noted that I stood on a different place from that on which I had
been standing when I had parted from the woman the night before, and it
might be that some angle hid the window I had seen then.
I therefore crept along the brushwood until I reached the same place,
and then my heart gave a great bound. There, half hidden by the tree I
had climbed, was a light shining from the window.
In a minute my ghostly fears vanished. What was the meaning of it all I
did not know, but I determined that I would find out before the night
was over. It is true I called to mind some of the things I had read in
the writings of Master Will Shakespeare, as well as passages from the
Holy Scriptures, all of which spoke with certainty concerning those who
possessed familiar spirits; but these influenced me not one jot at the
time. The light shone from the window as it had shone the night before,
and in all probability the same old man occupied the room.
I therefore went swiftly across the open space towards the tree I have
spoken of, and before one might well count twenty I had climbed to the
branch whereon I had aforetime rested, and so again obtained view of the
chamber. This I did because I feared to seek admission without taking
precautions. If others were there as well as the old man, I might have
to adopt methods different from those I should make use of if he were
alone. I reflected that if what the woman Katharine Harcomb had told my
father were true, and that the king's marriage contract were hidden in
the house, he would guard it carefully. It was of too much importance to
treat lightly. What I did, therefore, must be done warily, neither must
I foolishly and with youthful wilfulness be led to betray myself.
As I have said, therefore, I again climbed the tree, and obtained a view
of the chamber, and ere long saw the old man seated at a table, and by
the aid of a lamp was reading some scrolls, which he had spread out
before him. I watched him a few moments in silence, noting the eager
look upon his face, and the evident ardour with which he sought to
understand the writing on the parchment before him. Presently I saw him
take certain powders from a drawer, and place them in a pot, into which
he also poured some liquid. This done, he placed the pot on the fire,
and watched the liquid with great care.
It was at this time that I determined to seek entrance. But how? I knew
that every door was securely bolted, every window barricaded. If I was
to enter, therefore, it must be by strategy. If the woman had obtained
admission the previous night there seemed no reason why the door could
not be opened to me. But what were the means she had used? I called
myself a fool for not following her, and thus learning the means she had
used; but that was futile now. Wisdom after a thing has happened is
generally foolishness, and so I ransacked my brains in thinking of what
she must have done.
I have not set it down in these pages, but I did remember the previous
night that, when the woman drew near the house, I heard a noise like the
cry of a screech-owl. At the time I put it down to the night bird, but
now it occurred to me that it might have been a means whereby she
obtained entrance. At any rate, it could do no harm, and therefore I
slid silently down the tree, and made my way to the great door, where
the woman had entered.
I must confess to a fast-beating heart as I stood by the great
iron-studded door. After all, I knew nothing of what I should see within
the walls, and the very mystery made every nerve tingle, while there
came to the eyes of my imagination pictures of many strange doings. So
strong was this feeling upon me that I stood still, scarce daring to
move. Then I saw in the moonlight what had escaped me in the early
morning. A piece of string hung by the postern of the door. Indeed, I
believe that it had not been there then. What did it mean? On closer
examination I saw that it was passed through a hole in the woodwork.
Scarcely realizing what I was doing, I tugged at the piece of string,
and immediately I heard a kind of clanking noise within. This, although
I might have expected some such result, startled me so that I cried out
almost involuntarily.
A minute later the clanking ceased, and then silence reigned again. But
now that I had once tugged at the string, and no harm had happened to
me, I pulled it again and then, using what powers of mimicry I had, I
cried out as I had heard the screech-owl cry among the trees around my
old home.
Again I listened, and this time I heard cautious footsteps. I judged
then, as I know now, that the footsteps were muffled, nevertheless there
was something very weird in listening to the stealthy tread of some one
creeping nearer and nearer to me. A minute later I knew that some one
stood at the other side of the door. I heard some one murmuring, and
then another silence followed. I waited I should think a minute, but no
further sound came, whereupon I again repeated the cry of the night
bird. At this, I heard the clanking of chains and the shooting of bolts,
as though the one within were preparing to open the door, after which
there was again a moment's silence as if he hesitated.
"Are you prepared to pay the price of entrance?"
The words were uttered in a hoarse whisper, and at that time they seemed
to contain some occult meaning, so that for a moment I hesitated to
reply. But I summoned up my courage, and made answer also in a hoarse
whisper--
"I am prepared."
Then the great door began to creak and to slowly open. Knowing how much
depended on my speed of action, no sooner was the aperture between the
door and its lintel a few inches wide than, putting all my strength
against it, I forced it back, and found myself inside the building
before he who had opened it had been able to obtain a glimpse of me.