A SIMILAR CASE FROM SPAIN
Another case of dual Banshee haunting that occurs to me, took place in
Spain, where so many of the oldest Irish families have settled, and was
related to me by a distant connection of mine--an O'Donnell. He well
remembered, he said, many years ago, when he was a boy, his father, who
was an officer in the Carlist Army, telling him of an adventure that
happened to him during the first outbreak of the Civil War. His father and
another young man, Dick O'Flanagan, were subalterns in a cavalry regiment
that took a prominent part in a desperate engagement with the Queen's
Army. The Carlists were being driven back, when, as a last desperate
resource, their bare handful of cavalry charged and immediately turned the
fortunes of the day. In the heat of the affray, however, Ralph O'Donnell
and Dick O'Flanagan, carried away by their enthusiasm, got separated from
the rest of the corps, and were, consequently, overpowered by sheer
numbers and taken prisoners.
In those days much brutality was shown on either side, and our two heroes,
beaten, and bruised, and starving, were dragged along in a half-fainting
condition, amid the taunts and gibings of their captors, till they were
finally lodged in the filthy dungeon of an old mountain castle, where they
were informed they would be kept till the hour appointed for their
execution. The moment they were alone, they made the most strenuous
efforts to unloosen the thongs of tough cowhide with which their hands and
feet were so cruelly bound together, and, after many frantic endeavours,
they at last succeeded. O'Flanagan was the first to get free, and as soon
as his numbed limbs allowed him to do so, he crawled to the side of his
friend and liberated him, too. They then examined the room as best they
could in the dark, and decided their only hope of escape lay in the
chimney, which, luckily for them, was one of those old-fashioned
structures, wide enough to admit the passage of a full-grown person. Ralph
began the ascent first, and, after several fruitless efforts, during which
he bumped and bruised himself and made such a noise that O'Flanagan feared
he would be heard by the guard outside, he eventually managed to obtain a
foothold and make sufficient progress for O'Flanagan to follow in his
wake.
In everything they did that night luck favoured them. On emerging from the
chimney on to the roof of the castle, they were rejoiced to find a tree
growing so near to one of the walls that they had little difficulty in
gripping hold of one of its branches and so descending in safety to the
ground. The guards apparently were asleep, at least none were to be seen
anywhere, and so, feeling their way cautiously in and out a thick growth
of trees and bushes, they soon got altogether clear of the premises, and
found themselves once again free, but in a part of the country with which
they were totally unacquainted. Two hours tramping along a tortuous, hilly
high road, or to give it a more appropriate name, track, for it was
nothing more, at last brought them to a wayside inn where, in spite of the
advanced hour--for it was between one and two o'clock in the morning--they
determined to risk inquiry for a night's shelter. I say "risk" because
there was a strong spirit of partisanship abroad, and it was quite as
likely as not that the inn people were adherents of the Queen.
Ralph knocked repeatedly, and the door was at length opened by a young
girl who, holding a candlestick in one hand, sleepily rubbed her eyes
with the other and, in rather petulant tones, asked what the gentlemen
meant by coming to the house at such an unearthly hour and waking everyone
up. Ralph and O'Flanagan were so struck by her appearance that for some
seconds they could only stand gaping at her, deprived of all power of
speech. Such a vision of loveliness neither of them had seen for many a
long day, and both were more than ordinarily susceptible where the fair
sex was concerned. Dark, like most of the girls are in Spain, she was not
swarthy, but had, on the other hand, a most singularly fair complexion,
devoid of that tendency to hairiness which is apparent in so many of the
women of that country. Her features were, perhaps, a trifle too bold, but
in strict proportion, and her eyes a wee bit hard, though the shape and
colour of them--by candlelight an almost purplish grey--were singularly
beautiful. She had very white teeth, too, though there was a something
about her mouth, in the setting of the lips when they were closed for
instance, and in the general expression, that puzzled Ralph, and which was
destined to return to his mind many times afterwards.
Ralph noticed, too, that her hands were not those of a peasant class, of a
class that has to do much rough and hard work, but that they were white
and well-kept, the fingers tapering and the nails long and almond shaped.
She wore several rings and bracelets, and seemed altogether different from
the type of girl one would have expected to find in such a very
unpretentious kind of building, situated, too, in such a very remote spot.
Ralph was not quite as impulsive as his friend, and although, as I have
said, very susceptible, was not so far led away by his feelings as to be
altogether incapable of observation.
His first impressions of the girl were that, although she was
extraordinarily pretty, there was something--apart even from her
mouth--that he could not fathom, and which caused him a vague uneasiness;
he noticed it particularly when her glance wandered to their
travel-stained uniforms, and momentarily alighted on O'Flanagan's solitary
ring, which contained a ruby and was a kind of family mascot, akin to the
famous cathach of Count Daniel O'Donnell of Tirconnell; and she muttered
something which Ralph fancied had reference to the word "Carlists," and
then, as if conscious he was watching her, she raised her eyes quickly
and, in tones of sleepy indifference this time, asked what the gentlemen
wanted. Ralph immediately replied that they required a bed with breakfast,
not too early, and, perhaps, later on--luncheon. He added that if the inn
was full they wouldn't in the least mind sleeping in a barn or stable.
"All we want," he said, "is to lie down somewhere with a roof over our
heads, for we are terribly tired."
At the mention of a stable the girl smiled, saying she could offer them
something rather better than that; and, bidding both follow her upstairs,
with as little noise as possible, she conducted them to a large room with
a very low ceiling, and, having deposited the candlestick on a chest of
drawers, she wished them good night and noiselessly withdrew.
"Rather better than our late quarters in the prison," Ralph exclaimed,
taking a survey of the apartment, "but a wee bit gloomy."
"Nonsense!" O'Flanagan retorted. "The only gloomy things here are your own
thoughts. I want to stay here always, for I never saw a prettier girl or a
cosier-looking bed."
He began to undress as he spoke, and in a few minutes both young men were
stretched out at full length fast asleep.
About two hours later Ralph awoke with a violent start to hear distinct
sounds of footsteps tiptoeing their way softly along the passage outside
towards their room door. In an instant all his faculties were on the
alert, and he sat up in bed and listened. Then something stirred in the
corner by the window, and, glancing in that direction, he saw to his
astonishment the figure of a tall slim girl, in a long, loose, flowing
gown of some dark material, with a very pale face, beautifully chiselled,
though by no means strictly classical features, and masses of shining
golden hair that fell in rippling confusion on to her neck and shoulders.
The idea that she was the Banshee instantly occurred to him. From his
father's description of her, for his father had often spoken to him about
her, she and the beautiful woman, whom he was now looking at, were
certainly very much alike; besides, as the Banshee, when his father saw
her, was crying, and this woman was crying--crying most bitterly, her
whole body swaying to and fro as if racked with the most poignant
sorrow--he could not help thinking that the identity between them was
established, and that they were, in fact, one and the same person.
As he was still gazing at her with the most profound pity and admiration,
his attention was suddenly directed, by an odd scratching sound, to the
window, where he saw, pressed against the glass, and looking straight in
at him, a face which in every detail presented the most startling
contrast to that upon which his eyes had, but a second ago, been feasting.
It was so evil that he felt sure it could only emanate from the lowest
Inferno, and it leered at him with such appalling malignancy that, brave
man as he had proved himself on the field of battle, he now completely
lost his nerve, and would have called out, had not both figures suddenly
vanished, their disappearance being immediately followed by the most
agonising, heart-rending screams, intermingled with loud laughter and
diabolical chuckling, which, for the moment, completely paralysed him. The
screams continued for some seconds, during which time every atom of blood
in Ralph's veins seemed to freeze, and then there was silence--deep and
sepulchral silence. Afraid to be any longer in the dark, Ralph jumped out
of bed and lit the candle, and, as he did so, he distinctly heard
footsteps move hurriedly away from the door and go stealthily tiptoeing
down the passage.
As may be imagined, he did not sleep again for some time, not, indeed,
until daylight, when he gradually fell into a doze, from which he was
eventually aroused by loud thumps on the door, and the voice of the pretty
inn maiden announcing that it was time to get up.
After breakfast he narrated his experience in the night to O'Flanagan,
who, somewhat to his astonishment, did not laugh, but exclaimed quite
seriously:
"Why, you have seen our Banshee. At least, the girl in green is our
Banshee. I saw her before the death of a cousin of mine, and she appeared
to my mother the night before my father died. I don't know what the other
apparition could have been, unless it was what my father used to term the
'hateful Banshee,' which he said was only supposed to appear before some
very dreadful catastrophe, worse even than death, if anything could be
worse."
"You haven't the monopoly of Banshees," Ralph laughed. "We have one too,
and I am positive the woman I saw--the beautiful woman I mean--was the
O'Donnell Banshee. I would have you know that the Limerick O'Donnells,
with whom I am connected, are quite as old a family as the O'Flanagans;
they are, indeed, directly descended from Niall of the Nine Hostages."
"So are we," O'Flanagan answered hotly, then he burst out laughing. "Well,
well," he said, "fancy quarrelling about anything as immaterial as a
Banshee. But, anyhow, if they were Banshees that you saw last night,
they're a bit out in their calculations. They should have come before that
skirmish, not after it; unless it's the death of some relative of one of
us they're prophesying. I hope it's not my sister."
"I don't imagine it has anything to do with you," Ralph replied. "They
were both looking at me."
He was about to say something further, when O'Flanagan, seeing the young
girl come into the room to clear away the breakfast things, at once began
talking to her; and as it was only too evident that he wanted the field to
himself, for he was obviously head over ears in love, Ralph got up and
announced his intention of taking a walk round the premises.
"Don't go in the wood, Senor, whatever you do," the girl observed, "for it
is infested with brigands. They do not interfere with us because we were
once good to one of their sick folk--and the Spaniard, brigand though he
may be, never forgets a kindness--but they attack strangers, and you will
be well advised to keep to the high road."
"Which is the nearest town?" Ralph demanded.
"Trijello," the girl answered, the same curious expression creeping into
her eyes that had puzzled Ralph so much before, and which he found
impossible to analyse. "It is about eight miles from here. Don Hervado,
the Governor, is a Carlist, and was entertaining some Carlist soldiers
there yesterday."
"Good!" Ralph exclaimed. "I will walk there. Will you come with me, Dick,
or will you wait here till I return. I don't suppose I shall be back much
before the evening."
"Oh, don't hurry," O'Flanagan laughed, eyeing the girl rapturously, "I am
perfectly happy here, and want a rest badly. Don't, whatever you do, let
on to anyone connected with headquarters where we are. Let them go on
imagining, for a while, we are dead."
"The Senors have been in a battle, yes?" the girl interrupted, shyly.
"A battle," O'Flanagan laughed, "not half one. Why, we were taken
prisoners and only escaped hanging through my unparalleled wits and
perseverance. However, I don't in the least bemoan the perils and
hardships we have undergone, for, had events turned out otherwise, we
should never have had the joy of seeing you, Senora," and catching hold of
her hand, before she could prevent him, he pressed it fervently to his
lips, smothering it with kisses.
Thinking it was high time to be off, Ralph now took his departure. A
couple of hours' walking brought him to Trijello, where, but for a lucky
incident, he might have found himself landed in a quandary. As he was
entering the outskirts of the town he met an old peasant, staggering
under a sack of onions, and no sooner did the latter catch sight of his
uniform than he at once called out:
"Senor, if you value your liberty, you won't enter Trijello in that
costume. The Governor is the sworn enemy of all Carlists, and has given
strict orders that, anyone with leanings towards that party shall be put
under arrest at once."
"Are you sure?" Ralph exclaimed. "Why, I was told it was just the other
way about, and that he was a strong adherent of our cause."
"Whoever told you that, lied," the old man responded, "for he had a nephew
of mine shot only yesterday morning for saying in public he hoped that
wretched weakling of a woman would soon be put off the throne and we
should have someone who was fit to govern--meaning Don Carlos--in her
place. Take my advice, Senor, and either change those clothes at once or
give Trijello as wide a berth as possible."
Ralph then asked him if there was any place near at hand where he could
purchase a civilian suit, and, on being informed that there was a Jew's
shop within a few minutes' walk, he thanked the old man most cordially for
giving him so friendly a warning, and at once proceeded there.
To cut a long story short he bought the clothes and, thus disguised, went
on into the town, and, with the object of picking up any information he
could with regard to the enemy's forces, he dined at the principal hotel,
and listened attentively to the conversation that was taking place all
around him. Later on in the day some Christino soldiers arrived, officers
on the staff of one of the Royalist generals, and Ralph decided to remain
in the hotel for the night and see if he could get hold of some really
definite news that might be of value to his own headquarters. Learning
that someone would be leaving the hotel shortly and passing by the inn
where O'Flanagan was staying, he gave them a note to give to his friend,
stating that he could not be back till the following day, perhaps about
noon. He then took up his seat before the parlour fire, apparently
absorbed in reading the latest bulletin from Madrid, but in reality
keeping his ears well open for any conversation that might be worth
transcribing in his pocket-book. Nor was he disappointed, for the
Christino soldiers waxed very talkative over some of mine host's best
port, and disclosed many secrets concerning the movements of the Queen's
forces, that would have most certainly entailed a court martial, had it
but come to the notice of their general.
That night, though the room he was given was quite bright and cheerful,
and very different from the one he had occupied the night before, his
mind was so full of grim apprehension that he found it quite impossible
to sleep. He kept thinking of the vision he had seen--that lovely, fairy
face of the girl with the golden hair, her adorable eyes, her heavenly,
albeit very human mouth; she was so perfect, so angelic, so full of
delicious sympathy and pity; so unlike any earthly woman he had ever met;
and then that other face--those intensely evil, pale green eyes, that
sinister mocking mouth, that dreadfully disordered mass of matted,
tow-coloured hair. It was too hellish--too inconceivably foul and baneful
to dare think about, and seized with a fit of shuddering, he thrust his
head under the bedclothes, lest he should see it again appearing before
him. What, he wondered, did they portend? Not some horrible happening to
Dick. He had always understood that the one who neither sees nor hears the
Banshee during its manifestations is the one that is doomed to die. And
yet Dick was assuredly as safe in that inn as he was here--here,
surrounded on all sides by his enemies. Once or twice he fancied he heard
his name called, and so realistic was it, that, forgetful of his dread of
seeing something satanic in the room, he at last sat up in bed and
listened. All was still, however; there were no sounds at all; none
whatever, saving the gentle whispering of the wind, as it swept softly
past the window, and the far-away hooting of a night bird. Then he lay
down again, and once more there seemed to come to him from somewhere very
close at hand a voice that articulated very clearly and plaintively his
name--Ralph, Ralph, Ralph!--three times in quick succession, and then
ceased. Nor did he hear it again.
Tired and unrested, he got up early and, paying his bill, set off with
long, rapid strides in the direction of the wayside inn. There was an air
of delightful peace and tranquillity about the place when he arrived. All
the sunbeams seemed to have congregated in just that one spot, and to have
converted the walls and window-panes of the little old-fashioned building
into sheets of burnished gold. Birds twittered merrily on the tree-tops
and under the eaves of the roof, and the most delicious smell of
honeysuckle and roses permeated the whole atmosphere.
Ralph was enchanted, and all his grim forebodings of the night before were
instantly dissipated. The abode was truly named "The Travellers' Rest"; it
might even have been styled "The Travellers' Paradise," for all seemed so
calm and serene--so truly heavenly. He rapped at the door, and, after some
moments, rapped again. He then heard footsteps, which somehow seemed
strangely familiar, cautiously come along the stone passage and pause at
the other side of the door, as if their owner were in doubt whether to
open it or not.
Again he rapped, and this time the door was opened, and the young girl
appeared. She looked rather pale, but was very much sprucer and smarter
than she had been when Ralph last saw her. She wore a very bewitching kind
of gipsy frock of red velvet--the skirt very short and the bodice adorned
with masses of shining silver coins, whilst her feet were clad in very
smart, dainty shoes, also red, with big silver buckles.
"Your friend's gone," she said. "He seemed very upset at your not turning
up last night, and went away directly after breakfast."
"But didn't he get my note?" Ralph exclaimed, "and didn't he leave any
message?"
"No, Senor," the girl replied. "No note came for him, but he said he would
try and call in here again to-morrow morning, to see if you had arrived."
"And he didn't say where he had gone?"
"No."
Ralph eyed her quizzically. She certainly was wonderfully pretty, and,
marvellous to relate, did not smell of garlic. Yes, he would stay, and try
and come under the fascination of her beauty as Dick had done. And yet,
why had Dick gone off in such a hurry? What had this starry-eyed creature
done to offend him? Ralph knew O'Flanagan was at times apt to be
over-impulsive and hasty in his love-makings. Had he got on a bit too
rapidly? Spanish girls are very easily upset, and perhaps this one had a
lover in the background. Perhaps she was married. That seemed to him the
most feasible explanation for Dick's absence. To be offended at his not
turning up last night was all nonsense. Ralph knew his friend far too well
for that. Anyhow, he decided to stay, and the girl offered him the room he
and Dick had previously occupied. Only, she explained, he must not go in
it till later on in the day, as it was going to be cleaned.
After luncheon, which he sat down to alone, as the girl, despite his
pressing invitation, refused to partake of the meal with him, on the plea
that she had many things to attend to, he went a little way up the
hillside at the back of the premises, and enjoyed a quiet siesta under the
shadow of the trees. Indeed, he slept so long that the twilight had well
set in before he awoke and once again made tracks for the inn.
This time he entered by a doorway in the rear of the house, and, in a
small paved courtyard, saw the girl, habited in a rather more workaday
attire, but with her hair still very coquettishly decorated with ribbons,
sharpening a long glistening knife on a big grinding stone, which she was
turning round and round with the skill of a past mistress of the art.
"Hulloa!" he exclaimed. "What are you up to? Not sharpening that blade to
stick me with, I hope."
"The Senor has heard of pigs," the girl replied, showing her beautiful
teeth in a smile, almost amounting to a grin. "Well, I'm going to kill one
to-night."
"Good heavens!" Ralph ejaculated, glancing incredulously at the white,
rounded arms and the long, slim, tapering fingers. "You kill a pig! Do you
do all the work of this house? Is there no one else here to help you?"
"Oh, yes, Senor," the girl laughed. "There is Isabella, an old woman who
comes here every day to do all the hard rough work, and my aunt, but there
are certain jobs they can't do because their eyesight is not very good,
and their hands lack the skill. The gentleman looks shocked, but is there
anything so very dreadful in killing a pig? One slash and it is quickly
done--very quickly. We have to live somehow, and, after all, the Senor is
a soldier--he follows the vocation of killing!"
"Oh, yes, it is all very well for big, rough men. One somehow associates
them with deeds of violence and bloodshed. But with beautiful, dainty
girls like you it is different. You should shudder at the very thought of
blood, and be all pity and compassion."
"But not for pigs," the girl laughed, "nor for Senors. Now please go in
and sit in the parlour, or my aunt will hear me talking to you and accuse
me of wasting my time."
Ralph reluctantly obeyed, and drawing his chair close up to the parlour
fire--for the summer evenings in Spain are often very chilly--was soon
deeply absorbed in plans and speculations as to the future. After supper,
when the young girl came into the room to clear the table, Ralph noticed
that she was once again wearing the gay apparel she had worn earlier in
the day; and all in red, even to the ribbons in her hair, she seemed to be
dressed more coquettishly than ever. She was also inclined to be more
communicative, and in response to Ralph's invitation to partake of a glass
of wine with him, she fetched an armchair and came and planted it close
beside him.
Pretty as he had thought her before, she now appeared to him to be
indescribably lovely, and the longer he stared at her, stared into the
depths of her large, beautifully shaped purplish grey eyes, the more and
more hopelessly enslaved did he become, till, in the end, he realised she
had him completely at her mercy, and that he was most madly and
desperately in love with her.
They drank together, and so absorbed was he in gazing at her eyes--indeed
he never ceased gazing at them--that he did not observe what he was
drinking or how many times she filled up his glass. If she had given him a
poisoned goblet, it would have been all the same, he would have drained it
off and kissed her hands and feet with his dying breath.
"Now, Senor," she said at length, after he had held her hand to his lips
and literally smothered it in kisses, "now, Senor, it is time for you to
go to bed. We do not keep late hours here, and to-morrow, Senor, if he is
still in the same state of mind, will have plenty of time for repeating to
me his sentiments."
"To-morrow," Ralph stuttered. "To-morrow, that is a tremendous way off,
and isn't it to-morrow that that fellow O'Flanagan is coming?"
The girl laughed. "Yes," she said saucily, "there will be two of you
to-morrow, the one as bad as the other, and I did think, Senor, you were
the steadier of the two. Well, well, you are both soldiers, and soldiers
were ever gay dogs; but you must be careful, Senor, you and your friend do
not quarrel, for, as you know, more than one friendship has been
terminated through the witching glance of a lady's eyes, and you both seem
to like looking into mine."
"What!" Ralph stuttered angrily. "Did that fellow Dick look at you? Did he
dare to look at you? Damn----" but before he could utter another syllable,
the girl put her soft little hand over his mouth and pushed him gently to
the door.
Alternately making wild love to her and passionately denouncing Dick,
Ralph then allowed himself to be got upstairs to his room by pushes and
coaxings, and, as he made a last frantic effort to kiss and fondle her,
the door slammed in his face and he found himself--alone.
For some moments he stood tugging and twisting at the door handle, and
then, finding that his efforts had no effect, he was staggering off to the
bed with the intention of getting into it just as he was, when he caught
his foot on something and fell with a crash to the floor, striking his
face smartly on the edge of a chair. For a moment or so he was partially
stunned, but, the flow of blood from his nose relieving him, he gradually
came to his senses, all trace of his drunkenness having completely
vanished. The first thing he did then was to look at the carpet which, by
a stroke of luck, was crimson, a most pronounced, virulent crimson,
exactly the colour of his blood. The spot where he had fallen was close
to the bed, and, as his eyes wandered along the carpet by the side of the
bed, he fancied he saw another damp patch. He at once fetched the candle
and had a closer look.
Yes, there was a great splash of moisture on the floor, near the head of
the bed, just about in a line with the pillow. He applied his finger to
the patch and then held it to the light--it was wet with blood.
Filled with a sickening sense of apprehension, Ralph now proceeded to make
a careful examination of the room, and, lifting the lid of a huge oak
chest that stood in one corner, he was horrified to perceive the naked
body of a man lying at the bottom of it, all huddled up.
Gently raising the body and bending down to examine it, Ralph received a
second shock. The face that looked up at him with such utter lack of
expression in its big, bulging, glassy eyes was that of the once gay and
humorous Dick O'Flanagan.
The manner of his death was only too obvious. His throat had been cut, not
cleanly as a man would have done it, but with repeated hacks and slashes,
that pointed all too clearly to a woman's handiwork.
This then explained it all, explained the curious something in the girl's
eyes and mouth he had noticed when he first saw her; explained, too, the
stealthy, tiptoeing footsteps in the passage that night, the reason for
the appearance of the Banshees, the eagerness with which the girl had
plied him with wine, her red dress--and--the red carpet.
But why had she done it--for mere sordid robbery, or because they were
Carlists. Then recollecting the look she had fixed on the ruby in Dick's
ring, the answer seemed clear. It was, of course, robbery. Snake-like, she
used those beautiful eyes of hers to fascinate her victims--to lull them
into a false sense of security; and then, when they had wholly succumbed
to love and wine, of which she gave them their fill, she butchered them.
Murders in Spanish inns were by no means uncommon about that time, and
even at a much later date, and had this murder been committed by some old
and ugly and cross-grained "host," Ralph would not have been surprised,
but for this girl to have done it--this girl so young and enchanting, why
it was almost inconceivable, and he would not have believed it, had not
the grim proofs of it lain so close at hand. What was he to do? Of course,
now that he was sober and in the full possession of his faculties, it was
ridiculous for him to be afraid of a girl, even though she were armed;
but supposing she had confederates, and it was scarcely likely she would
be alone in the house.
No, he must try and escape; but how! He examined the window, it was
heavily barred; he tried the door, it was locked on the outside; he looked
up the chimney, it was far too narrow to admit the passage of anyone even
half his size.
He was done, and the only thing he could do was to wait. To wait till the
girl tiptoed into the room to kill, and then--he couldn't bear the idea of
fighting with her, even though she had so cruelly murdered poor Dick--make
his escape.
With this end in view he blew out the candle, and, lying on the bed,
pretended to be fast asleep.
In about an hour's time he heard steps, soft, cautious footsteps, ascend
the staircase and come stealing surreptitiously towards his door. Then
they paused, and he instinctively knew she was listening. He breathed
heavily, just as a man would do who had drunk not wisely but too well, and
had consequently fallen into a deep sleep. Presently, there was a slight
movement of the door handle.
He continued breathing, and the movement was repeated. Still more
stentorian breaths, and the handle this time was completely turned. Very
gently he crept off the bed to the door, and, as it slowly opened and a
figure in red, looking terribly ghostly and sinister, slipped in, so he
suddenly shot past and made a bolt for the passage. There was a wild
shriek, something whizzed past his head and fell with a loud clatter on
the floor, and all the doors in the house downstairs seemed to open
simultaneously. Reaching the head of the stairs in a few bounds, he was
down them in a trice. A hideous old hag rushed at him with a hatchet,
whilst another aged creature, whose sex he could not determine, aimed a
wild blow at him with some other instrument, but Ralph avoided them both,
and, reaching the front door, which providentially for him was merely
locked, not bolted, he was speedily out of the house and into the broad
highway.
The screams of the women producing answering echoes from the wood in the
hoarser shouts of men, Ralph took to his heels, nor did he stop running
until he was well on his way to Trijello.
He did not, however, go to the latter town, fearing that the inn people
might follow him there and get him arrested as a Carlist; instead, he
struck off the high road along a side path, and, luckily for him, about
noon fell in with an advanced guard of the Carlist Army.
His troubles then, for a time at least, ceased; but to his lasting regret
he was never able to avenge Dick's death; for when the war was at last
over and he had succeeded in persuading the local authorities to take the
matter in hand, the inn was found to be empty and deserted. Nor was the
pretty murderess ever seen or heard of again in that neighbourhood.