The Moon Endureth: Tales and Fancies

by John Buchan

  II

  Three years later, pretty nearly to a day, I came back to see whatLawson had made of his hobby. He had bidden me often to Welgevonden,as he chose to call it--though I do not know why he should have fixed aDutch name to a countryside where Boer never trod. At the last therehad been some confusion about dates, and I wired the time of myarrival, and set off without an answer. A motor met me at the queerlittle wayside station of Taqui, and after many miles on a doubtfulhighway I came to the gates of the park, and a road on which it was adelight to move. Three years had wrought little difference in thelandscape. Lawson had done some planting,--conifers and floweringshrubs and suchlike,--but wisely he had resolved that Nature had forthe most part forestalled him. All the same, he must have spent a mintof money. The drive could not have been beaten in England, and fringesof mown turf on either hand had been pared out of the lush meadows.When we came over the edge of the hill and looked down on the secretglen, I could not repress a cry of pleasure. The house stood on thefarther ridge, the viewpoint of the whole neighbourhood; and its browntimbers and white rough-cast walls melted into the hillside as if ithad been there from the beginning of things. The vale below wasordered in lawns and gardens. A blue lake received the rapids of thestream, and its banks were a maze of green shades and glorious massesof blossom. I noticed, too, that the little grove we had explored onour first visit stood alone in a big stretch of lawn, so that itsperfection might be clearly seen. Lawson had excellent taste, or hehad had the best advice.

  The butler told me that his master was expected home shortly, and tookme into the library for tea. Lawson had left his Tintorets and Mingpots at home after all. It was a long, low room, panelled in teakhalf-way up the walls, and the shelves held a multitude of finebindings. There were good rugs on the parquet door, but no ornamentsanywhere, save three. On the carved mantelpiece stood two of the oldsoapstone birds which they used to find at Zimbabwe, and between, on anebony stand, a half moon of alabaster, curiously carved with zodiacalfigures. My host had altered his scheme of furnishing, but I approvedthe change.

  He came in about half-past six, after I had consumed two cigars and allbut fallen asleep. Three years make a difference in most men, but Iwas not prepared for the change in Lawson. For one thing, he had grownfat. In place of the lean young man I had known, I saw a heavy,flaccid being, who shuffled in his gait, and seemed tired and listless.His sunburn had gone, and his face was as pasty as a city clerk's. Hehad been walking, and wore shapeless flannel clothes, which hung looseeven on his enlarged figure. And the worst of it was, that he did notseem over-pleased to see me. He murmured something about my journey,and then flung himself into an arm-chair and looked out of the window.

  I asked him if he had been ill.

  "Ill! No!" he said crossly. "Nothing of the kind. I'm perfectly well."

  "You don't look as fit as this place should make you. What do you dowith yourself? Is the shooting as good as you hoped?"

  He did not answer, but I thought I heard him mutter something like"shooting be damned."

  Then I tried the subject of the house. I praised it extravagantly, butwith conviction. "There can be no place like it in the world," I said.

  He turned his eyes on me at last, and I saw that they were as deep andrestless as ever. With his pallid face they made him look curiouslySemitic. I had been right in my theory about his ancestry.

  "Yes," he said slowly, "there is no place like it--in the world."

  Then he pulled himself to his feet. "I'm going to change," he said."Dinner is at eight. Ring for Travers, and he'll show you your room."

  I dressed in a noble bedroom, with an outlook over the garden-vale andthe escarpment to the far line of the plains, now blue and saffron inthe sunset. I dressed in an ill temper, for I was seriously offendedwith Lawson, and also seriously alarmed. He was either very unwell orgoing out of his mind, and it was clear, too, that he would resent anyanxiety on his account. I ransacked my memory for rumours, but foundnone. I had heard nothing of him except that he had beenextraordinarily successful in his speculations, and that from hishill-top he directed his firm's operations with uncommon skill. IfLawson was sick or mad, nobody knew of it.

  Dinner was a trying ceremony. Lawson, who used to be rather particularin his dress, appeared in a kind of smoking suit with a flannel collar.He spoke scarcely a word to me, but cursed the servants with abrutality which left me aghast. A wretched footman in his nervousnessspilt some sauce over his sleeve. Lawson dashed the dish from his handand volleyed abuse with a sort of epileptic fury. Also he, who hadbeen the most abstemious of men, swallowed disgusting quantities ofchampagne and old brandy.

  He had given up smoking, and half an hour after we left the dining-roomhe announced his intention of going to bed. I watched him as hewaddled upstairs with a feeling of angry bewilderment. Then I went tothe library and lit a pipe. I would leave first thing in themorning--on that I was determined. But as I sat gazing at the moon ofalabaster and the soapstone birds my anger evaporated, and concern tookits place. I remembered what a fine fellow Lawson had been, what goodtimes we had had together. I remembered especially that evening whenwe had found this valley and given rein to our fancies. What horridalchemy in the place had turned a gentleman into a brute? I thought ofdrink and drugs and madness and insomnia, but I could fit none of theminto my conception of my friend. I did not consciously rescind myresolve to depart, but I had a notion that I would not act on it.

  The sleepy butler met me as I went to bed. "Mr. Lawson's room is atthe end of your corridor, sir," he said. "He don't sleep over well, soyou may hear him stirring in the night. At what hour would you likebreakfast, sir? Mr. Lawson mostly has his in bed."

  My room opened from the great corridor, which ran the full length ofthe front of the house. So far as I could make out, Lawson was threerooms off, a vacant bedroom and his servant's room being between us. Ifelt tired and cross, and tumbled into bed as fast as possible.Usually I sleep well, but now I was soon conscious that my drowsinesswas wearing off and that I was in for a restless night. I got up andlaved my face, turned the pillows, thought of sheep coming over a hilland clouds crossing the sky; but none of the old devices were of anyuse. After about an hour of make-believe I surrendered myself tofacts, and, lying on my back, stared at the white ceiling and thepatches of moonshine on the walls.

  It certainly was an amazing night. I got up, put on a dressing-gown,and drew a chair to the window. The moon was almost at its full, andthe whole plateau swam in a radiance of ivory and silver. The banks ofthe stream were black, but the lake had a great belt of light athwartit, which made it seem like a horizon and the rim of land beyond itlike a contorted cloud. Far to the right I saw the delicate outlinesof the little wood which I had come to think of as the Grove ofAshtaroth. I listened. There was not a sound in the air. The landseemed to sleep peacefully beneath the moon, and yet I had a sense thatthe peace was an illusion. The place was feverishly restless.

  I could have given no reason for my impression but there it was.Something was stirring in the wide moonlit landscape under its deepmask of silence. I felt as I had felt on the evening three years agowhen I had ridden into the grove. I did not think that the influence,whatever it was, was maleficent. I only knew that it was very strange,and kept me wakeful.

  By-and-by I bethought me of a book. There was no lamp in the corridorsave the moon, but the whole house was bright as I slipped down thegreat staircase and across the hall to the library. I switched on thelights and then switched them off. They seemed profanation, and I didnot need them.

  I found a French novel, but the place held me and I stayed. I sat downin an arm-chair before the fireplace and the stone birds. Very oddthose gawky things, like prehistoric Great Auks, looked in themoonlight. I remember that the alabaster moon shimmered liketranslucent pearl, and I fell to wondering about its history. Had theold Sabaens used such a jewel in their rites in the Grove of Ashtaroth?

/>   Then I heard footsteps pass the window. A great house like this wouldhave a watchman, but these quick shuffling footsteps were surely notthe dull plod of a servant. They passed on to the grass and died away.I began to think of getting back to my room.

  In the corridor I noticed that Lawson's door was ajar, and that a lighthad been left burning. I had the unpardonable curiosity to peep in.The room was empty, and the bed had not been slept in. Now I knewwhose were the footsteps outside the library window.

  I lit a reading-lamp and tried to interest myself in "La CruelleEnigme." But my wits were restless, and I could not keep my eyes onthe page. I flung the book aside and sat down again by the window.The feeling came over me that I was sitting in a box at some play. Theglen was a huge stage, and at any moment the players might appear onit. My attention was strung as high as if I had been waiting for theadvent of some world-famous actress. But nothing came. Only theshadows shifted and lengthened as the moon moved across the sky.

  Then quite suddenly the restlessness left me and at the same moment thesilence was broken by the crow of a cock and the rustling of trees in alight wind. I felt very sleepy, and was turning to bed when again Iheard footsteps without. From the window I could see a figure movingacross the garden towards the house. It was Lawson, got up in the sortof towel dressing-gown that one wears on board ship. He was walkingslowly and painfully, as if very weary. I did not see his face, butthe man's whole air was that of extreme fatigue and dejection. Itumbled into bed and slept profoundly till long after daylight.