III--OF THE GREY COTTAGE IN THE GLEN
It was either on the fourth or the fifth day after I had taken possessionof my cottage that I was astonished to hear footsteps upon the grassoutside, quickly followed by a crack, as from a stick upon the door. Theexplosion of an infernal machine would hardly have surprised ordiscomfited me more. I had hoped to have shaken off all intrusion forever, yet here was somebody beating at my door with as little ceremony asif it had been a village ale-house. Hot with anger, I flung down my bookand withdrew the bolt just as my visitor had raised his stick to renewhis rough application for admittance. He was a tall, powerful man, tawny-bearded and deep-chested, clad in a loose-fitting suit of tweed, cut forcomfort rather than elegance. As he stood in the shimmering sunlight, Itook in every feature of his face. The large, fleshy nose; the steadyblue eyes, with their thick thatch of overhanging brows; the broadforehead, all knitted and lined with furrows, which were strangely atvariance with his youthful bearing. In spite of his weather-stained felthat, and the coloured handkerchief slung round his muscular brown neck, Icould see at a glance he was a man of breeding and education. I had beenprepared for some wandering shepherd or uncouth tramp, but thisapparition fairly disconcerted me.
"You look astonished," said he, with a smile. "Did you think, then, thatyou were the only man in the world with a taste for solitude? You seethat there are other hermits in the wilderness besides yourself."
"Do you mean to say that you live here?" I asked in no conciliatoryvoice.
"Up yonder," he answered, tossing his head backward. "I thought as wewere neighbours, Mr. Upperton, that I could not do less than look in andsee if I could assist you in any way."
"Thank you," I said coldly, standing with my hand upon the latch of thedoor. "I am a man of simple tastes, and you can do nothing for me. Youhave the advantage of me in knowing my name."
He appeared to be chilled by my ungracious manner.
"I learned it from the masons who were at work here," he said. "As forme, I am a surgeon, the surgeon of Gaster Fell. That is the name I havegone by in these parts, and it serves as well as another."
"Not much room for practice here?" I observed.
"Not a soul except yourself for miles on either side."
"You appear to have had need of some assistance yourself," I remarked,glancing at a broad white splash, as from the recent action of somepowerful acid, upon his sunburnt cheek.
"That is nothing," he answered, curtly, turning his face half round tohide the mark. "I must get back, for I have a companion who is waitingfor me. If I can ever do anything for you, pray let me know. You haveonly to follow the beck upward for a mile or so to find my place. Haveyou a bolt on the inside of your door?"
"Yes," I answered, rather startled at this question.
"Keep it bolted, then," he said. "The fell is a strange place. Younever know who may be about. It is as well to be on the safe side.Goodbye." He raised his hat, turned on his heel and lounged away alongthe bank of the little stream.
I was still standing with my hand upon the latch, gazing after myunexpected visitor, when I became aware of yet another dweller in thewilderness. Some distance along the path which the stranger was takingthere lay a great grey boulder, and leaning against this was a small,wizened man, who stood erect as the other approached, and advanced tomeet him. The two talked for a minute or more, the taller man noddinghis head frequently in my direction, as though describing what had passedbetween us. Then they walked on together, and disappeared in a dip ofthe fell. Presently I saw them ascending once more some rising groundfarther on. My acquaintance had thrown his arm round his elderly friend,either from affection or from a desire to aid him up the steep incline.The square burly figure and its shrivelled, meagre companion stood outagainst the sky-line, and turning their faces, they looked back at me. Atthe sight, I slammed the door, lest they should be encouraged to return.But when I peeped from the window some minutes afterward, I perceivedthat they were gone.
All day I bent over the Egyptian papyrus upon which I was engaged; butneither the subtle reasonings of the ancient philosopher of Memphis, northe mystic meaning which lay in his pages, could raise my mind from thethings of earth. Evening was drawing in before I threw my work aside indespair. My heart was bitter against this man for his intrusion.Standing by the beck which purled past the door of my cabin, I cooled myheated brow, and thought the matter over. Clearly it was the smallmystery hanging over these neighbours of mine which had caused my mind torun so persistently on them. That cleared up, they would no longer causean obstacle to my studies. What was to hinder me, then, from walking inthe direction of their dwelling, and observing for myself, withoutpermitting them to suspect my presence, what manner of men they might be?Doubtless, their mode of life would be found to admit of some simple andprosaic explanation. In any case, the evening was fine, and a walk wouldbe bracing for mind and body. Lighting my pipe, I set off over the moorsin the direction which they had taken.
About half-way down a wild glen there stood a small clump of gnarled andstunted oak trees. From behind these, a thin dark column of smoke roseinto the still evening air. Clearly this marked the position of myneighbour's house. Trending away to the left, I was able to gain theshelter of a line of rocks, and so reach a spot from which I couldcommand a view of the building without exposing myself to any risk ofbeing observed. It was a small, slate-covered cottage, hardly largerthan the boulders among which it lay. Like my own cabin, it showed signsof having been constructed for the use of some shepherd; but, unlikemine, no pains had been taken by the tenants to improve and enlarge it.Two little peeping windows, a cracked and weather-beaten door, and adiscoloured barrel for catching the rain water, were the only externalobjects from which I might draw deductions as to the dwellers within. Yeteven in these there was food for thought, for as I drew nearer, stillconcealing myself behind the ridge, I saw that thick bars of iron coveredthe windows, while the old door was slashed and plated with the samemetal. These strange precautions, together with the wild surroundingsand unbroken solitude, gave an indescribably ill omen and fearsomecharacter to the solitary building. Thrusting my pipe into my pocket, Icrawled upon my hands and knees through the gorse and ferns until I waswithin a hundred yards of my neighbour's door. There, finding that Icould not approach nearer without fear of detection, I crouched down, andset myself to watch.
I had hardly settled into my hiding place, when the door of the cottageswung open, and the man who had introduced himself to me as the surgeonof Gaster Fell came out, bareheaded, with a spade in his hands. In frontof the door there was a small cultivated patch containing potatoes, peasand other forms of green stuff, and here he proceeded to busy himself,trimming, weeding and arranging, singing the while in a powerful thoughnot very musical voice. He was all engrossed in his work, with his backto the cottage, when there emerged from the half-open door the sameattenuated creature whom I had seen in the morning. I could perceive nowthat he was a man of sixty, wrinkled, bent, and feeble, with sparse,grizzled hair, and long, colourless face. With a cringing, sidelonggait, he shuffled toward his companion, who was unconscious of hisapproach until he was close upon him. His light footfall or hisbreathing may have finally given notice of his proximity, for the workersprang round and faced him. Each made a quick step toward the other, asthough in greeting, and then--even now I feel the horror of theinstant--the tall man rushed upon and knocked his companion to the earth,then whipping up his body, ran with great speed over the interveningground and disappeared with his burden into the house.
Case hardened as I was by my varied life, the suddenness and violence ofthe thing made me shudder. The man's age, his feeble frame, his humbleand deprecating manner, all cried shame against the deed. So hot was myanger, that I was on the point of striding up to the cabin, unarmed as Iwas, when the sound of voices from within showed me that the victim hadrecovered. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and all was grey, savea red feather in the ca
p of Pennigent. Secure in the failing light, Iapproached near and strained my ears to catch what was passing. I couldhear the high, querulous voice of the elder man and the deep, roughmonotone of his assailant, mixed with a strange metallic jangling andclanking. Presently the surgeon came out, locked the door behind him andstamped up and down in the twilight, pulling at his hair and brandishinghis arms, like a man demented. Then he set off, walking rapidly up thevalley, and I soon lost sight of him among the rocks.
When his footsteps had died away in the distance, I drew nearer to thecottage. The prisoner within was still pouring forth a stream of words,and moaning from time to time like a man in pain. These words resolvedthemselves, as I approached, into prayers--shrill, voluble prayers,pattered forth with the intense earnestness of one who sees impending animminent danger. There was to me something inexpressibly awesome in thisgush of solemn entreaty from the lonely sufferer, meant for no human ear,and jarring upon the silence of the night. I was still pondering whetherI should mix myself in the affair or not, when I heard in the distancethe sound of the surgeon's returning footfall. At that I drew myself upquickly by the iron bars and glanced in through the diamond-paned window.The interior of the cottage was lighted up by a lurid glow, coming fromwhat I afterward discovered to be a chemical furnace. By its rich lightI could distinguish a great litter of retorts, test tubes and condensers,which sparkled over the table, and threw strange, grotesque shadows onthe wall. On the further side of the room was a wooden frameworkresembling a hencoop, and in this, still absorbed in prayer, knelt theman whose voice I heard. The red glow beating upon his upturned facemade it stand out from the shadow like a painting from Rembrandt, showingup every wrinkle upon the parchment-like skin. I had but time for afleeting glance; then, dropping from the window, I made off through therocks and the heather, nor slackened my pace until I found myself back inmy cabin once more. There I threw myself upon my couch, more disturbedand shaken than I had ever thought to feel again.
Such doubts as I might have had as to whether I had indeed seen my formerfellow-lodger upon the night of the thunderstorm were resolved the nextmorning. Strolling along down the path which led to the fell, I saw inone spot where the ground was soft the impressions of a foot--the small,dainty foot of a well-booted woman. That tiny heel and high instep couldhave belonged to none other than my companion of Kirkby-Malhouse. Ifollowed her trail for some distance, till it still pointed, as far as Icould discern it, to the lonely and ill-omened cottage. What power couldthere be to draw this tender girl, through wind and rain and darkness,across the fearsome moors to that strange rendezvous?
I have said that a little beck flowed down the valley and past my verydoor. A week or so after the doings which I have described, I was seatedby my window when I perceived something white drifting slowly down thestream. My first thought was that it was a drowning sheep; but pickingup my stick, I strolled to the bank and hooked it ashore. On examinationit proved to be a large sheet, torn and tattered, with the initials J. C.in the corner. What gave it its sinister significance, however, was thatfrom hem to hem it was all dabbled and discoloured.
Shutting the door of my cabin, I set off up the glen in the direction ofthe surgeon's cabin. I had not gone far before I perceived the very manhimself. He was walking rapidly along the hillside, beating the furzebushes with a cudgel and bellowing like a madman. Indeed, at the sightof him, the doubts as to his sanity which had arisen in my mind werestrengthened and confirmed.
As he approached I noticed that his left arm was suspended in a sling. Onperceiving me he stood irresolute, as though uncertain whether to comeover to me or not. I had no desire for an interview with him, however,so I hurried past him, on which he continued on his way, still shoutingand striking about with his club. When he had disappeared over thefells, I made my way down to his cottage, determined to find some clue towhat had occurred. I was surprised, on reaching it, to find the iron-plated door flung wide open. The ground immediately outside it wasmarked with the signs of a struggle. The chemical apparatus within andthe furniture were all dashed about and shattered. Most suggestive ofall, the sinister wooden cage was stained with blood-marks, and itsunfortunate occupant had disappeared. My heart was heavy for the littleman, for I was assured I should never see him in this world more.
There was nothing in the cabin to throw any light upon the identity of myneighbours. The room was stuffed with chemical instruments. In onecorner a small bookcase contained a choice selection of works of science.In another was a pile of geological specimens collected from thelimestone.
I caught no glimpse of the surgeon upon my homeward journey; but when Ireached my cottage I was astonished and indignant to find that somebodyhad entered it in my absence. Boxes had been pulled out from under thebed, the curtains disarranged, the chairs drawn out from the wall. Evenmy study had not been safe from this rough intruder, for the prints of aheavy boot were plainly visible on the ebony-black carpet.
Danger! and Other Stories Page 9
