Page:Once a Week Dec 1860 to June 61.pdf/111

100 ’Deed do I. You’re the heir of t’ould leddy. Mr. Erle is your guardian, and farms your lands.”

“I know so much, myself,” I replied. “I want you to tell me who lives in Whinmore Hall now, and whether I can get a dinner there, for I’m clem, as you say here.”

“Weel, weel. It is a sore trial to a young stomach! You must e’en bear it till we get to Mr. Erle’s.”

“But surely there is somebody, some old woman or other, who lives in the old house and airs the rooms!”

’Deed is there. But it’s nobbut ghosts and deevil’s spawn of that sort.”

“I am surprised, Mr. Thirlston, to hear a man like you talk such nonsense.”

“What like man do ye happen know that I am, Maister Whinmore? Tho’ if I talk nonsense (and I’m no gainsaying what a learned colleger like you can tell about nonsense), yet it’s just the things I have heard and seen mysell I am speaking of.”

“What have you heard and seen at Whinmore Hall?”

“What a’ body hears and sees to Whinmore, ’twixt sunset and moonlight;—and what I used to see times and oft, when I lived there farming-man to t’ould Leddy Jane,—what I’m not curious to see again, now. So get on, Timothy,” he added to the horse, “or we may chance to come in for a fright.”

I did not trouble myself about the delay, as he did, but watched him.

This man is no fool, I thought. I wonder what strange delusion has got possession of the people about this old house of mine. I remembered that Mr. Erle had told me in one of the very few letters I ever received from him, that it was difficult to find a tenant for Whinmore Hall. Curiosity took precedence of hunger, and I began to think how I could best soothe my irritated companion, and get him to tell me what he believed.

We were back on the road again, and going across the shoulder of a great fell;—the sun had just disappeared behind a distant range of similar fells; it left no rosy clouds, no orange streaks in the sky—black rain-clouds spread all over the great concave, and in a very few minutes they burst upon us. There was a cold, piercing wind in our teeth. I felt my spirits rise. The vast monotonous moor, the threatening sky, and the fierce rushing blast had something for me sublime and invigorating. I looked round at the new range of moorland which we were gradually commanding, as we rounded the hill.

“I like this wild place, Mr. Thirlston,” I said.

“Wild enough!” he grumbled in reply. ’Tis college learning is a deal better than such house and land. Beggars won’t live in th’ house, and th’ land is the poorest in all England.”

“Is that the house, yonder, on the right?”

“There’s na ither house, good or bad, to be seen from this,” he replied: but I observed that he did not turn his head in the direction I had indicated. He kept a look-out straight between the horse’s ears; I, on the contrary, never took my eyes off the grey building which we were approaching. Nearer and nearer we came, and I saw that there was a sort of large garden or pleasure-ground enclosed round the house, and that the road ran past a part of this enclosure, and also past a large open-worked iron gate, which was the chief entrance. Very desolate, cold, and inhospitable looked this old house of mine; wild and tangled looked the garden. The tall, smokeless chimneys were numerous, and stood up white against the blackness of the sky; the windows, more numerous still, looked black, in contrast with the whitish-grey stone of the walls. Just as we entered the shadow cast by the trees of the shrubbery, our horse snorted, and sprang several yards from the enclosure.

“Now for it! It is your own fault for running away, and bringing us late,” muttered Ralph Thirlston, grasping the reins and standing up to get a better hold of the horse. Timothy now stood still; and to my surprise he was trembling in every limb, and shaking with terror.

“Something has frightened the beast,” said I. “I shall just go and see what it was,” and was about to jump down, when I felt Ralph Thirlston’s great hand on my arm: it was a powerful grip.

“For the love of God, lad, stay where ye are!” he said, in a frightened whisper. “It’s just here that my brother met his death, for doing what you want to do now.”

“What! For walking up to that fence and seeing what trifle frightened a skittish horse?” And I looked at the fence intently. There was nothing to be seen but a straggling bough of an elder bush which had forced its way through a chink in the rotten wood and was waving in the wind.

Finding that the man was really frightened as well as the horse, I humoured him. He still held my arm.

“There is no need for any one to go closer to see the cause of poor Timothy’s fear,” I said, laughing. “If you will look, Mr. Thirlston, you will see what it was.”

“Na! lad, na! I’m not going to turn my face towards the deevil and his works. ‘Lord have mercy upon us! Christ have mercy upon us! Our Father which art in heaven— ” and he repeated the whole prayer with emphasis, slowness, and with his eyes closed. I sat still, an amazed witness of his state of mind. When he had said “Amen,” he opened his eyes, and looking down at the horse, who seemed to have recovered, as I judged by his putting his head down to graze, he gave a low whistle, and tightening the reins once more, Timothy allowed himself to be driven forward. Thirlston kept his face away from the enclosure on his right hand, and looked steadily at Timothy. I gave another glance towards the innocent elder bough,—but what was my astonishment to see where it had been, or seemed to be, the figure of a man with a drawn sword in his hand.

“Stop, Thirlston! stop!” I cried. “There is somebody there. I see a man with a sword. Look! Turn back, and I’ll soon see what he is doing there.”

“Na! na! Never turn back to meet the deevil, when ye have once got past him!” And Thirlston drove on rapidly.

“But he may overtake you,” I cried, laughing. But as I looked back I saw that a pursuit was not intended, for the figure I had seen was gone.