The Mystery of Cloomber Page 5

  CHAPTER V. HOW FOUR OF US CAME TO BE UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER

  I trust that my readers will not set me down as an inquisitive busybodywhen I say that as the days and weeks went by I found my attention andmy thoughts more and more attracted to General Heatherstone and themystery which surrounded him.

  It was in vain that I endeavoured by hard work and a strict attention tothe laird's affairs to direct my mind into some more healthy channel.Do what I would, on land or on the water, I would still find myselfpuzzling over this one question, until it obtained such a hold upon methat I felt it was useless for me to attempt to apply myself to anythinguntil I had come to some satisfactory solution of it.

  I could never pass the dark line of five-foot fencing, and the greatiron gate, with its massive lock, without pausing and racking my brainas to what the secret might be which was shut in by that inscrutablebarrier. Yet, with all my conjectures and all my observations, I couldnever come to any conclusion which could for a moment be accepted as anexplanation of the facts.

  My sister had been out for a stroll one night, visiting a sick peasantor performing some other of the numerous acts of charity by which shehad made herself beloved by the whole countryside.

  "John," she said when she returned, "have you seen Cloomber Hall atnight?"

  "No," I answered, laying down the book which I was reading. "Not sincethat memorable evening when the general and Mr. McNeil came over to makean inspection."

  "Well, John, will you put your hat on and come a little walk with me?"

  I could see by her manner that something had agitated or frightened her.

  "Why, bless the girl!" cried I boisterously, "what is the matter? Theold Hall is not on fire, surely? You look as grave as if all Wigtownwere in a blaze."

  "Not quite so bad as that," she said, smiling. "But do come out, Jack. Ishould very much like you to see it."

  I had always refrained from saying anything which might alarm my sister,so that she knew nothing of the interest which our neighbours' doingshad for me. At her request I took my hat and followed her out into thedarkness. She led the way along a little footpath over the moor, whichbrought us to some rising ground, from which we could look down upon theHall without our view being obstructed by any of the fir-trees which hadbeen planted round it.

  "Look at that!" said my sister, pausing at the summit of this littleeminence.

  Cloomber lay beneath us in a blaze of light. In the lower floors theshutters obscured the illumination, but above, from the broad windowsof the second storey to the thin slits at the summit of the tower, therewas not a chink or an aperture which did not send forth a stream ofradiance. So dazzling was the effect that for a moment I was persuadedthat the house was on fire, but the steadiness and clearness of thelight soon freed me from that apprehension. It was clearly the result ofmany lamps placed systematically all over the building.

  It added to the strange effect that all these brilliantly illuminatedrooms were apparently untenanted, and some of them, so far as we couldjudge, were not even furnished. Through the whole great house there wasno sign of movement or of life--nothing but the clear, unwinking floodof yellow light.

  I was still lost in wonder at the sight when I heard a short, quick sobat my side.

  "What is it, Esther, dear?" I asked, looking down at my companion.

  "I feel so frightened. Oh, John, John, take me home, I feel sofrightened!"

  She clung to my arm, and pulled at my coat in a perfect frenzy of fear.

  "It's all safe, darling," I said soothingly. "There is nothing to fear.What has upset you so?"

  "I am afraid of them, John; I am afraid of the Heatherstones. Why istheir house lit up like this every night? I have heard from others thatit is always so. And why does the old man run like a frightened hare ifany one comes upon him. There is something wrong about it, John, and itfrightens me."

  I pacified her as well as I could, and led her home with me, where Itook care that she should have some hot port negus before going to bed.I avoided the subject of the Heatherstones for fear of exciting her,and she did not recur to it of her own accord. I was convinced, however,from what I had heard from her, that she had for some time back beenmaking her own observations upon our neighbours, and that in doing soshe had put a considerable strain upon her nerves.

  I could see that the mere fact of the Hall being illuminated at nightwas not enough to account for her extreme agitation, and that it musthave derived its importance in her eyes from being one in a chain ofincidents, all of which had left a weird or unpleasant impression uponher mind.

  That was the conclusion which I came to at the time, and I have reasonto know now that I was right, and that my sister had even more causethan I had myself for believing that there was something uncanny aboutthe tenants of Cloomber.

  Our interest in the matter may have arisen at first from nothing higherthan curiosity, but events soon look a turn which associated us moreclosely with the fortunes of the Heatherstone family.

  Mordaunt had taken advantage of my invitation to come down to thelaird's house, and on several occasions he brought with him hisbeautiful sister. The four of us would wander over the moors together,or perhaps if the day were fine set sail upon our little skiff and standoff into the Irish Sea.

  On such excursions the brother and sister would be as merry and as happyas two children. It was a keen pleasure to them to escape from theirdull fortress, and to see, if only for a few hours, friendly andsympathetic faces round them.

  There could be but one result when four young people were broughttogether in sweet, forbidden intercourse. Acquaintance-ship warmed intofriendship, and friendship flamed suddenly into love.

  Gabriel sits beside me now as I write, and she agrees with me that, dearas is the subject to ourselves, the whole story of our mutual affectionis of too personal a nature to be more than touched upon in thisstatement. Suffice it to say that, within a few weeks of our firstmeeting Mordaunt Heatherstone had won the heart of my dear sister, andGabriel had given me that pledge which death itself will not be able tobreak.

  I have alluded in this brief way to the double tie which sprang upbetween the two families, because I have no wish that this narrativeshould degenerate into anything approaching to romance, or that I shouldlose the thread of the facts which I have set myself to chronicle. Theseare connected with General Heatherstone, and only indirectly with my ownpersonal history.

  It is enough if I say that after our engagement the visits to Branksomebecame more frequent, and that our friends were able sometimes to spenda whole day with us when business had called the general to Wigtown, orwhen his gout confined him to his room.

  As to our good father, he was ever ready to greet us with many smalljests and tags of Oriental poems appropriate to the occasion, for we hadno secrets from him, and he already looked upon us all as his children.

  There were times when on account of some peculiarly dark or restless fitof the general's it was impossible for weeks on end for either Gabrielor Mordaunt to get away from the grounds. The old man would even standon guard, a gloomy and silent sentinel, at the avenue gate, or pace upand down the drive as though he suspected that attempts had been made topenetrate his seclusion.

  Passing of an evening I have seen his dark, grim figure flitting aboutin the shadow of the trees, or caught a glimpse of his hard, angular,swarthy face peering out suspiciously at me from behind the bars.

  My heart would often sadden for him as I noticed his uncouth, nervousmovements, his furtive glances and twitching features. Who would havebelieved that this slinking, cowering creature had once been a dashingofficer, who had fought the battles of his country and had won the palmof bravery among the host of brave men around him?

  In spite of the old soldier's vigilance, we managed to holdcommunication with our friends.

  Immediately behind the Hall there was a spot where the fencing had beenso carelessly erected that two of the rails could be removed withoutdifficulty, leaving a broad gap, whi
ch gave us the opportunity formany a stolen interview, though they were necessarily short, for thegeneral's movements were erratic, and no part of the grounds was securefrom his visitations.

  How vividly one of these hurried meetings rises before me! It stands outclear, peaceful, and distinct amid the wild, mysterious incidents whichwere destined to lead up to the terrible catastrophe which has cast ashade over our lives.

  I can remember that as I walked through the fields the grass was dampwith the rain of the morning, and the air was heavy with the smell ofthe fresh-turned earth. Gabriel was waiting for me under the hawthorntree outside the gap, and we stood hand-in-hand looking down at the longsweep of moorland and at the broad blue channel which encircled it withits fringe of foam.

  Far away in the north-west the sun glinted upon the high peak of MountThroston. From where we stood we could see the smoke of the steamers asthey ploughed along the busy water-way which leads to Belfast.

  "Is it not magnificent?" Gabriel cried, clasping her hands round my arm."Ah, John, why are we not free to sail away over these waves together,and leave all our troubles behind us on the shore?"

  "And what are the troubles which you would leave behind you, dear one?"I asked. "May I not know them, and help you to bear them?"

  "I have no secrets from you, John," she answered. "Our chief trouble is,as you may guess, our poor father's strange behaviour. Is it not a sadthing for all of us that a man who has played such a distinguished partin the world should skulk from one obscure corner of the country toanother, and should defend himself with locks and barriers as though hewere a common thief flying from justice? This is a trouble, John, whichit is out of your power to alleviate."

  "But why does he do it, Gabriel?" I asked.

  "I cannot tell," she answered frankly. "I only know that he imaginessome deadly danger to be hanging over his head, and that this danger wasincurred by him during his stay in India. What its nature may be I haveno more idea than you have."

  "Then your brother has," I remarked. "I am sure from the way in which hespoke to me about it one day that he knows what it is, and that he looksupon it as real."

  "Yes, he knows, and so does my mother," she answered, "but they havealways kept it secret from me. My poor father is very excited atpresent. Day and night he is in an agony of apprehension, but it willsoon be the fifth of October, and after that he will be at peace."

  "How do you know that?" I asked in surprise.

  "By experience," she answered gravely. "On the fifth of October thesefears of his come to a crisis. For years back he has been in the habitof locking Mordaunt and myself up in our rooms on that date, so that wehave no idea what occurs, but we have always found that he has beenmuch relieved afterwards, and has continued to be comparatively in peaceuntil that day begins to draw round again."

  "Then you have only ten days or so to wait," I remarked, for Septemberwas drawing to a close. "By the way, dearest, why is it that you lightup all your rooms at night?"

  "You have noticed it, then?" she said. "It comes also from my father'sfears. He does not like to have one dark corner in the whole house.He walks about a good deal at night, and inspects everything, from theattics right down to the cellars. He has large lamps in every room andcorridor, even the empty ones, and he orders the servants to light themall at dusk."

  "I am rather surprised that you manage to keep your servants," I said,laughing. "The maids in these parts are a superstitious class, andtheir imaginations are easily excited by anything which they don'tunderstand."

  "The cook and both housemaids are from London, and are used to ourways. We pay them on a very high scale to make up for any inconvenience towhich they may be put. Israel Stakes, the coachman, is the only one whocomes from this part of the country, and he seems to be a stolid, honestfellow, who is not easily scared."

  "Poor little girl," I exclaimed, looking down at the slim, gracefulfigure by my side. "This is no atmosphere for you to live in. Why willyou not let me rescue you from it? Why won't you allow me to go straightand ask the general for your hand? At the worst he could only refuse."

  She turned quite haggard and pale at the very thought.

  "For Heaven's sake, John," she cried earnestly, "do nothing of the kind.He would whip us all away in the dead of the night, and within a weekwe should be settling down again in some wilderness where we might neverhave a chance of seeing or hearing from you again. Besides, he neverwould forgive us for venturing out of the grounds."

  "I don't think that he is a hard-hearted man," I remarked. "I have seena kindly look in his eyes, for all his stern face."

  "He can be the kindest of fathers," she answered. "But he is terriblewhen opposed or thwarted. You have never seen him so, and I trust younever will. It was that strength of will and impatience of oppositionwhich made him such a splendid officer. I assure you that in India everyone thought a great deal of him. The soldiers were afraid of him, butthey would have followed him anywhere."

  "And had he these nervous attacks then?"

  "Occasionally, but not nearly so acutely. He seems to think that thedanger--whatever it may be--becomes more imminent every year. Oh, John,it is terrible to be waiting like this with a sword over our heads--andall the more terrible to me since I have no idea where the blow is tocome from."

  "Dear Gabriel," I said, taking her hand and drawing her to my side,"look over all this pleasant countryside and the broad blue sea. Is itnot all peaceful and beautiful? In these cottages, with their red-tiledroofs peeping out from the grey moor, there live none but simple,God-fearing men, who toil hard at their crafts and bear enmity to noman. Within seven miles of us is a large town, with every civilisedappliance for the preservation of order. Ten miles farther there isa garrison quartered, and a telegram would at any time bring down acompany of soldiers. Now, I ask you, dear, in the name of common-sense,what conceivable danger could threaten you in this secludedneighbourhood, with the means of help so near? You assure me that theperil is not connected with your father's health?"

  "No, I am sure of that. It is true that Dr. Easterling, of Stranraer,has been over to see him once or twice, but that was merely for somesmall indisposition. I can assure you that the danger is not to belooked for in that direction."

  "Then I can assure you," said I, laughing, "that there is no dangerat all. It must be some strange monomania or hallucination. No otherhypothesis will cover the facts."

  "Would my father's monomania account for the fact of my brother's hairturning grey and my mother wasting away to a mere shadow?"

  "Undoubtedly," I answered. "The long continued worry of the general'srestlessness and irritability would produce those effects on sensitivenatures."

  "No, no!" said she, shaking her head sadly, "I have been exposed to hisrestlessness and irritability, but they have had no such effect uponme. The difference between us lies in the fact that they know this awfulsecret and I do not."

  "My dear girl," said I, "the days of family apparitions and that kindof thing are gone. Nobody is haunted nowadays, so we can put thatsupposition out of the question. Having done so, what remains? There isabsolutely no other theory which could even be suggested. Believe me,the whole mystery is that the heat of India has been too much for yourpoor father's brain."

  What she would have answered I cannot tell, for at that moment she gavea start as if some sound had fallen upon her ear. As she looked roundapprehensively, I suddenly saw her features become rigid and her eyesfixed and dilated.

  Following the direction of her gaze, I felt a sudden thrill of fear passthrough me as I perceived a human face surveying us from behind one ofthe trees--a man's face, every feature of which was distorted by themost malignant hatred and anger. Finding himself observed, he steppedout and advanced towards us, when I saw that it was none other than thegeneral himself. His beard was all a-bristle with fury, and his deepseteyes glowed from under their heavily veined lids with a most sinisterand demoniacal brightness.