Hocking Joseph
The Coming of the King
"Because you are a gentlewoman, and you are in trouble," I said.
We had been standing beside the pond during this conversation, as though we desired to delay entering the dark woods close by. Once beneath the shadows of the trees we should scarce be able to see each other, but here no shadow fell, and I could see her plainly. I heard her sob, too, as though my words had touched her heart.
"Do not be afraid," I said, "I will let no man harm you."
I spoke as a brother might speak to a sister, and there was naught but pity in my heart. Perhaps my voice had a tremor in it, for I was much wrought upon. Be that as it may, for the first time she lost control over herself, and she gave way to tears.
"I am afraid, oh, I am afraid," she said.
"You need not be," I said, "no harm shall befall you."
"Oh, but you do not know. You do not know who is by your side, you do not know what I fear."
"You need not fear to tell me," I said.
"Fear to tell you!" she cried, "but I do. Ay and if it were known that you walk by my side, and that you seek to befriend me, your life would be in danger. You do not know why I have consented to come here, you do not know of what I am accused. Nay, if I told you my name, you would either drag me back to Folkestone town and tell – " Here she ceased speaking, as though she were frightened at her own words.
"No I should not," I made answer.
"Why?"
"Because I do not believe you are capable of committing a crime."
At this she laughed aloud. A hard, cruel, bitter laugh.
"You had better go back to your bed, Master Rashcliffe," she said. "You do not know why I am here, you do not know what my mission is. I will tell you. I am here because I fear the devil, and because I seek to do his bidding."
She said this as if through her set teeth, and, as it seemed to me, with terrible passion. In spite of myself I felt a shiver pass through my veins. Nevertheless I still pitied her. For be it remembered I was only twenty-three, and the sight of the maid was in truth piteous. All the same the words I spoke next were dragged from me almost against my will.
"What!" I cried. "Have you sold yourself to the devil?"
"Ay, Master Rashcliffe, that is it, and I have found him a hard master."
I saw her clench her hands as if in a frenzy, while her eyes gleamed with a great passion.
"I do not believe in such things," I said, for although many witches had been burnt in England, even in my time, I had no faith in much of what I had heard.
"Why do I go up to the old house in Pycroft woods?" she went on. "Is it for pleasure? Have you not heard it is haunted? I tell you deeds are done there which would frighten you, brave as you think you are. And I go because I must. Now had you not better go back and leave me?"
"No," I made answer. "I will accompany you even as I have said."
"But you promised not to hinder me."
"No, I will not hinder you, because, in spite of what you say, I do not believe evil is in your heart."
"There you make a mistake, Master Rashcliffe. I have evil in my heart. And it is not without reason. Have you a sister?"
"No, why do you ask?"
"Because if you had you might understand me. If you had a sister, bound to obey a bad man, as his wife, would she not be justified in having evil in her heart?"
"His wife?" I cried.
"Ay, his wife!" and at this she laughed bitterly. "Now you see how useless it is for you to try and help me, for a wife must obey her husband no matter what he commands her. Do you think I would be here else? Look!" and she showed me her left hand, where I saw a plain gold ring.
At this I said nothing, nevertheless I did not in any wise think of giving up my determination to accompany her.
"You are still determined to enter this old house?" I said quietly.
"I go because I must," she replied.
Without another word I opened the gate and motioned her to pass in.
"You still persist in going?" she said, as if in astonishment, but she passed through the open gate, while I walked quietly by her side.
It was not easy to keep to the track, but I managed to follow it while the woman, who I was sure felt glad that I had persisted in accompanying her, kept near me. How long we walked I do not know. The woods grew darker and thicker, while the very air we breathed seemed laden with mystery and dread.
Once or twice I stopped, for I thought I heard footsteps, but as I listened all was silent.
"Oh, I am afraid," she said again and again. I did not reply to her, for I had no word of cheer to offer. In truth I was not far from being afraid myself. An open enemy I could meet as well as another, but the dreadful silence, with the occasional suggestion of stealthy footsteps, made my heart grow cold in spite of myself.
At length the track ended in an open space, and then my heart gave a leap, for a little distance away I saw the dark outline of an old house. Never until then did I realise how dark and lonesome a human habitation could be. Not a sound could I hear save the beating of our own hearts, naught could I see but the grim walls of the time-worn building.
"Look," she whispered fearfully. "Yonder is a light."
She spoke truly, for almost hidden by a large evergreen tree, yet plainly to be seen was a tiny light.
"That will be Master Pycroft!" I said almost involuntarily.
For answer she only shuddered, and then without saying a word she walked in the direction of the light.
CHAPTER VI
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.
"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.
