The House Called Hadlows

by Victoria Clayton

  Then in a flash it was a piece of old, rather dirty canvas again and the patch of gold and crimson light lay in its familiar place at the head of the stairs.

  Melissa bent down and read the fine writing at the bottom of the painting. There was the name of the artist. It was too faded to read but having carefully brushed away the dust, she could make out the words Selina Langton; painted this day May twentieth, seventeen hundred and fifty-six.

  ‘S.L.’ murmured Melissa to herself. ‘Once you sang in the garden by the old sundial. You lived in this house and slept on the bed I am sleeping on now. Why do you come back here after more than a hundred years? What troubles you?’

  But no one answered her and at length she went out into the garden wondering to herself. She didn’t have the same thirst for knowledge and adventure that Sebastian had but she was an extraordinarily courageous girl for her age. As she walked across the lawn to where she could see her aunt, sitting in the shade of a great cedar, she made a firm resolve. If there was anything wrong at Hadlows she would do everything in her power to help put it right.

  WHEN she heard Melissa approaching, Aunt Augusta opened her eyes and smiled.

  ‘Hallo, my dear. Have you had a pleasant morning?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. I’ve taken this book from the library to read.’

  ‘Oh, Middlemarch. Yes, that is a lovely book. I haven’t read it since I was a girl but I know I enjoyed it then.’

  ‘Would you like me to read it to you?’ asked Melissa.

  ‘Oh, yes please. That would be delightful.’

  So Melissa opened the book and began to read and the sun rose high in the sky as the hours passed. Eventually they were interrupted by Sebastian’s voice, calling his sister.

  At the same time Fandeagle came towards them carrying a tray.

  When Sebastian reached them Melissa noticed that his eyes were very bright and he seemed strangely excited. However he spoke calmly, merely inquiring how they had spent their morning and then proceeding to tell them some of the fascinating things he had learnt from Uncle Bertram about astronomy. They were soon joined by Uncle Bertram himself and they began their luncheon of cold roast fowl and salad, lemon syllabub and lime juice.

  During the meal Sebastian seemed rather quiet and withdrawn as if he were involved with his own thoughts and as soon as they finished eating he suggested that they should explore the garden a little.

  ‘Yes, go along you two,’ said Uncle Bertram, ‘Augusta and I always take a rest after lunch. We’ll have a late tea at five, so you’ll have plenty of time to explore.’

  As soon as they were out of earshot Sebastian began to talk excitedly.

  ‘I’ve been dying to tell you something ever since we started luncheon. But I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others. There’s no doubt about it. Something very strange is going on here and we’re right in the middle of it.’

  ‘Go on then,’ said Melissa, impatiently.

  ‘Well, Uncle Bertram and I were in the middle of a discussion about the moon this morning when Fandeagle came in to tell Uncle Bertram that one of his tenants was waiting downstairs and wanted to speak to him. Uncle Bertram went off with Fandeagle and I stayed behind to look at some more books. I was sitting at the table, turning over the pages of a book about whales, when I felt a strong draught on my legs as if the door had opened suddenly. I looked up but the door was shut and there was no one but me in the room. Well, I was getting really absorbed with the whales — it’s a superb book — when I became aware of a scratching sound. I looked up — and I don’t mind telling you, I nearly jumped out of my skin! There was someone sitting at the table opposite me.’

  ‘Was it a girl?’ asked Melissa, unable to contain herself any longer, ‘with white hair?’

  ‘No, do shut up a minute and let me tell you. No, it was a man, quite young, not more than thirty, anyway. There was a piece of paper in front of him and he was writing something on it with a quill pen. That’s what made the scratching noise. I just sat staring at him, hardly able to believe my eyes. On the hand which held the pen was a huge green ring shaped like a lion and long cuffs of some lacy stuff fell over his wrists. He was wearing a coat of a shiny black material and looked altogether quite odd. His hair was very long, almost as long as yours, I should think, and tied back with a ribbon. Just as I was making up my mind to say something, he looked up and fixed his eyes intently upon me. They were so blue, his eyes: I’ve never seen anything like it and there was something about the way he looked at me, so direct and penetrating that I was quite unable to move or speak. I think I almost stopped breathing. Then the light seemed to change and — it was very odd — I don’t know quite how to describe it — it was as if the man was becoming transparent, sort of fading into the air.

  Gradually I could see the shelves behind him, and then, just as he became almost invisible, he picked up the piece of paper he had been writing on and placed it on the book which was lying open in front of me. Then he disappeared. Afterwards I felt quite dazed almost as if I’d just been asleep.’

  ‘And the paper?’ Melissa’s voice was quite squeaky with excitement.

  ‘Well, it was still there, lying on the book, but it was quite yellow-looking and the ink was faded and brownish. When I tried to pick it up, the edges crumbled and fell apart in my hands. Fortunately I had some paper and a pencil in my pocket so I copied down what it said. Look, here it is.’

  And he pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket.

  Melissa read aloud:

  ‘Four is the division,

  Spring of Pan, breath of Hermes,

  Hell’s fire, Saturn’s stone,

  Courage for thy endeavouring

  The Elixir for discovering.

  Well, what does it mean, do you think?’

  ‘Goodness knows. I can’t make head or tail of it. If only we knew who these people were. If only we could talk to them.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Melissa. ‘I forgot to tell you. I do know who the girl is!’

  And she told Sebastian about what had happened to her in the hall that morning.

  ‘You’re sure it was the woman you saw in the garden?’

  ‘Positive.’

  ‘Then as soon as we get a chance we must go back to the library and find a book Uncle Bertram told me about. It’s a history of the house and family from its beginning right up to 1850. It might be able to tell us something about Selina Langton’s life. Look, we’ve come quite a distance already. We don’t want to get lost. Let’s make for that bit of woodland over there. Then we can cut back round to the front of the house.’

  So they began to walk towards the trees which covered the side of a gently sloping hill, and fell to discussing the mystifying piece of writing.

  ‘Hermes was a Greek god, I know that much,’ said Sebastian, ‘and Pan, of course, was a river god who played the pipes. But I don’t know what that has to do with anything. I wonder what —’

  ‘What’s that?’ interrupted Melissa. ‘Over there among those trees? Something orange!’

  ‘Where? I can’t see anything.’

  ‘Over there! Look! I do believe —’

  ‘What’s up, Melissa?’ shouted Sebastian as he ran after her. But Melissa had already disappeared into the little wood.

  Sebastian dashed in after her and eventually found her standing in a small clearing looking very hot and near to tears.

  ‘He was here,’ she said sadly as Sebastian approached. ‘I followed him to this clearing and he stopped for a moment just over there and looked at me. Then he waved his tail and vanished.’

  ‘Who?’ demanded Sebastian. ‘I saw no one.’

  ‘It was Mantari. I saw him!’

  ‘Are you sure? What would Mantari be doing here? It was probably just a local cat. All ginger toms look much alike, you know.’

  ‘If you think I can’t tell Mantari from any other cat — well, really! He was here. I know it was him,’ repeated Melissa obstinately, large tears of
frustration gathering in her eyes.

  ‘All right, I believe you,’ said Sebastian hastily. ‘Look, you know I’d give anything to see that cat again myself. Come on, let’s have a look round. Where did you last see him?’

  ‘Over there.’ And she pointed to where a piece of rock leaned out over a small stream. ‘But he won’t be there now. I know it. It’s magic again and Mantari’s part of it.’

  Nevertheless Sebastian went over to take a closer look. Part of the rock had been carved into a face with strange, slanting eyes. Its mouth was open and a jet of water poured out of it into the stream which went rushing past.

  ‘Look, I wonder what that is beneath the carving. It looks as though it’s been disturbed recently.’

  He began to scrape some of the green moss from the stone.

  ‘There’s something written here. Perhaps this is what Mantari wanted to show us.’

  At last they could see clearly five letters which had been cut deep into the rock. A L C H E. After the E the rock had crumbled away.

  ‘Mm. Well, I don’t think this can have anything to do with it, do you? ALCHE doesn’t mean anything as far as I know, unless it’s Greek perhaps. Most likely it’s just someone carving their initials.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ said Melissa. ‘Let’s copy the letters down anyway on your piece of paper. You never know, it might be important. Mantari’s cleverer than most humans, after all. I’m sure he must know what’s happening. Let’s go back now, shall we? It must be almost tea-time.’

  So they made their way back to the house, their bodies casting long shadows on the sun-drenched lawn, and both were in a state of peculiar tension and excitement.

  The rest of the afternoon passed very pleasantly. Melissa took up her book again at Aunt Augusta’s request and continued to read to her, while Uncle Bertram began to teach Sebastian how to play chess.

  As they made their way down the dark cobwebby passage to dinner, Melissa whispered to Sebastian that she’d had an idea.

  ‘Why don’t we look at the portraits on the stairs tomorrow? We might find one of the man you saw this morning.’

  ‘Good idea,’ whispered back Sebastian. Then he nudged her hard.

  Melissa jumped, for she was feeling rather uneasy, thinking about all those spiders lurking overhead. Then she realized that Sebastian had nudged her because Fandeagle was walking soundlessly just behind them. She caught a glimpse of his curious green face as they passed a lamp on the wall. It was quite expressionless and she had no idea whether he had heard or not. Really, she wished he would make a bit more noise when he moved around: it was rather creepy coming up on one like that. In fact he was rather creepy altogether, although she couldn’t say that she disliked him.

  Dinner consisted of artichoke soup, followed by saddle of mutton and red currant jelly. By the time the cheese and fruit were on the table the children felt quite drowsy with the heat of the day, the wine they had drunk and so many mysterious events.

  ‘What shall you do this evening?’ inquired Uncle Bertram.

  ‘I’m going to bed to read,’ said Melissa, as they left the table.

  ‘With your permission, sir, I’d like to have a go with the telescope in my room,’ said Sebastian. ‘It’s a very clear night tonight.’

  ‘Delighted, delighted,’ murmured Uncle Bertram. ‘Sleep well, my dears.’

  And they all went upstairs to bed.

  Sebastian set to work at once, trying to focus the telescope and was rewarded at last with a wonderful view of all the ridges and craters of the moon.

  Melissa read a few lines of her book and then fell fast asleep, the book still open on her pillow and the lamp by her bed shedding its gentle light into the ever-deepening night.

  She began to dream, a confused, puzzling dream of strange meaningless words which flickered before her eyes and were gone before she could catch hold of them. She was standing on a hill-top. Great brambles and nettles sprang up from the ground, tangling round her legs and stinging her so she could not move. A familiar tune sang in her ears and suddenly a lion, its lips flecked with foam, leaped over the horizon like the rising sun and came bounding down towards her. She wanted to cry out but the song rose above her own voice and drowned it. Just when she felt she could bear it no longer, the brambles fell away and the lion changed into a cat. She bent down to take him into her arms — and then she woke up.

  Melissa lay back on her pillow and gradually her heart began to beat normally again. Then her ears picked up a faint sound far away in the depths of the house. It sounded like music. In a flash Melissa realized what it was. It was Selina’s song, the one she had sung in the garden and which Melissa had heard in her dream. She sat up. Silence, nothing stirring. But no — there it was again, a distant tinkling, shivering the stillness like a breath of wind. She got up and put on her slippers. Then, taking the lamp in her hand, she went into Sebastian’s room.

  ‘Sebastian! Wake up! Someone is playing the tune.’ She shook him gently.

  Sebastian stirred and groaned.

  ‘Ssh! Don’t make a noise. Listen. Can’t you hear anything?’ Sebastian struggled to wake and they both listened intently. Yes, there it was, a distinct melody.

  Sebastian got up and padded to the door in his bare feet. He opened it quietly and listened again. Then he beckoned to Melissa and they slipped out into the corridor. They crept down the stairs and stood, hesitating, in the hall.

  Melissa nudged Sebastian and pointed to a pool of light on the floor. It came from beneath a door which neither of them had noticed before. Sebastian tip-toed over and lifted the latch. The door was twitched from his hand and swung open of its own accord. The children stood on the threshold, quite dazed. It was as if there were two rooms within the same four walls. It was a confusion of darkness and light. Vague shapes of furniture crowded against one another and it was a blur of shifting colours. A great fire-place dominated the room and at first it seemed dead and cold. But then they saw a thin flicker of pale flame hovering in the sooty blackness.

  Then the door swung shut behind them and at once the room came into focus. A huge roaring fire burst into life. The chairs and tables became solid and shone with a blue and gold magnificence. Flames sprang from the tips of the candles and threw the far end of the room into light where stood a painted harpsichord. The air was filled with music, although the room seemed empty apart from themselves. But then, gradually two dim figures came into view, one seated at the harpsichord with his back to them, the other standing beside him one hand resting on his shoulder. The dark head and the fair head were close together and they were laughing softly, as if unaware of the children’s presence.

  Then suddenly Sebastian sneezed. The girl swung round towards them and an expression of horror came into her eyes. She seized the arm of the young man beside her, but as if invisible hands were dragging her away, she was borne upwards and dissolved in darkness and shadow. The young man turned towards them and drew his sword. On his face was such anger that Melissa began to tremble violently. But the young man’s face drained of colour and he fell senseless to the ground.

  A great wind rushed through the room extinguishing the candles and causing the fire to give one last roaring leap before it fell into ashes and died. The furniture faded and lost its lustre. And the body of the young man was no longer there.

  ‘Oh Sebastian! What have we done? I don’t understand.’

  And Melissa began to cry.

  Sebastian took the lamp over to the harpsichord and ran his finger along the top. It was thick with dust. He lifted the lid and gently pressed down one of the keys. The ivory was cracked and discoloured and the noise which came from the instrument was harsh and discordant.

  Sebastian came back to Melissa who was wiping her eyes on her cotton night gown.

  ‘You know, I think what we saw tonight happened long before we were born. I don’t think it was us they saw standing at the door. Why should we frighten her so much? No, we experienced a moment of time but we
ourselves didn’t go back into the past. Come on, now. Let’s go back to bed before we wake someone up. We’ll find out about it tomorrow.’

  So they crept back to bed and it wasn’t long before they were both fast asleep.

  AS SOON as they had finished breakfast the next morning, the children went up to the library. They found the book about the history of the house and family which Uncle Bertram had mentioned, and began to search through it for Selina’s name.

  ‘Ah, here we are,’ said Sebastian, at last. ‘This must be it. The eighteenth baronet Falcon, born 1730, succeeded to the estate at the age of twenty-five. Married his cousin Selina Langton (born 1738) in 1756. Both sustained fatal injuries in a carriage accident in 1758. The title then passed to Selina’s younger brother, Harold, the nineteenth baronet, etc., etc., etc. Well, that doesn’t tell us much. I wonder what caused the accident? It doesn’t even tell us where it happened. What a pity. I really thought we were beginning to get somewhere. What are you doing?’

  Melissa had taken a large dictionary from the shelves and was carefully turning the pages, and muttering to herself.

  ‘Albino, album, albumen, alburnum, alcaic, alchemy, alchemy! A.L.C.H.E.M.Y. A semi-magical chemistry, practised in the Middle Ages.’