The apparition made no answer, but pointed to the door, as if enjoining my departure. But I did not move.
“You would fain persuade me,” I cried, in a bolder tone than I could at first assume. “that you are the restless spirit of the murderer, Jotham Shocklach. But I know better. Unless I am much mistaken, we have met before, and this is not the first time I have seen you play the ghost.”
The phantom was evidently much discomposed, and I felt satisfied that I was right in my conjecture.
“It is useless to attempt to impose upon me further,” I cried, in a voice of thunder. “I know you, rascal. You are Doctor Hooker, alias Simon Pownall.”
The ghost would have beaten a hasty retreat, but I snatched up a pistol.
“Attempt to stir,” I exclaimed, levelling it at him, “and I will send you to join the miscreant whose likeness you have assumed.”
Probably the ghost thought I should put my threat into execution, and seeing no chance of escape, dropped on its knees.
“Spare me!” it ejaculated in a piteous voice, which I instantly recognised as that of Simon Pownall—” spare me, and I will confess all.”
“Ho! ho! So it is you, then, Pownall?” I cried.
“Why, yes; there’s no use in denying it, since you’ve found me out.”
“Well, get up,” I cried, drawing near to him. “I don’t want to take your life, or even harm you, unless you force me to do so by attempting to escape. You are my prisoner. You must answer to Mr. Hazilrigge for entering his house in this unlicensed manner; as well as passing yourself off upon him under a false name. I have been in search of you, but I little expected to find you here.”
By this time, Simon, finding that I did not mean to injure him, had recovered some of his natural audacity.
“I can easily satisfy Old Hazy,” he replied. “He won’t punish me.”
“Don’t make too sure of that, rascal,” I returned. “Mr. Hazilrigge is credulous and good-humoured, but he will not allow such liberties as these to be taken with him with impunity. This is not the only trick you have played since my arrival at Owlarton Grange. You rang the bells better than you have played the ghost.”
At this remark, Simon seemed to entirely forget the jeopardy in which he stood, and laughed long and heartily.
“A capital joke! — wasn’t it?” he cried, with a fresh explosion of laughter.
“I don’t quite appreciate the joke,” I rejoined, sternly; “neither, I think, will Mr. Hazilrigge, when he learns that the bells were rung by an electrical machine under your management. You will be prosecuted for the offence.”
“You are mistaken, sir. Mr. Hazilrigge will treat the matter as a jest, and pass it by.” The rascal spoke so confidently, that I felt staggered, and, perceiving it, he went on: “But let us leave this question of the bell-ringing and pass to your own concerns. What cause of complaint have you against me?”
“Dare you put such a question to me, sirrah, when you know how much mischief you have done me? The day of reckoning has been long postponed, but at last it has arrived, and I mean to have a settlement in full.”
“You go the wrong way to work,” he replied, in a tone of dogged defiance. “You will get nothing from me by threats. Adopt another course, and you will stand a better chance of gaining your object.”
“I understand what you mean,” I rejoined; “but I will make no terms with you. You fancy yourself secure, but you will be forced to give an account of your conduct — not to me only, but to another whom you have injured. You have hitherto contrived to hide yourself from poor Ned Culcheth, but you will now have to brave his just indignation. How will you answer him when he demands back his wife from you? Will you give her to him?”
“I cannot,” he replied, sullenly.
“Then she has left you?” I cried.
“I will answer no questions about her,” he replied. “If Ned believes she ran away with me, he is welcome to think so. I shan’t contradict him. But he won’t find her with me, and he won’t learn from me where to find her — that I can promise him. But I will tell you, sir, since you seem to interest yourself in the matter, that it will be happier — far happier for Ned — never to see her again, than to see her as she is.”
“What do you mean?” I exclaimed, startled by his words, which seemed to corroborate some fears that had been aroused within me by the obscure remarks of John Brideoake.
“I have said I will answer no more questions — and I mean to keep my word,” he returned.
The audacity of the man quite confounded me.
I considered what I should do with him. I could not let him go, and yet felt unwilling to disturb the house. Besides, the rascal’s unconcern added to my perplexity, and I almost fancied there might be some sort of understanding between him and Mr. Hazilrigge, though I could hardly reconcile such a notion with my ideas of the old gentleman’s sense of propriety. If he had employed Pownall for any purpose, it must have been because he was in total ignorance of the man’s character.
At length, I asked my prisoner how he got into the room?
“I didn’t come through the keyhole, though it looks like it,” he replied with a laugh. “But I’ve no objection to tell you, provided you promise to keep the information secret.”
“I will give no such promise,” I replied. “It is quite enough for me to be aware that there is a concealed entrance to the room to be able to find it out. I have merely to sound the walls to make the discovery.”
“Something more than sounding the walls is required,” Pownall rejoined; “but since you decline my offer, you must exercise your own ingenuity. May I ask what you intend to do with me? I presume you don’t mean to keep me here all night?”
“I haven’t quite decided,” I replied; “but one thing is quite certain — you won’t be allowed to depart.”
“As you please, sir,” he replied, in an indifferent tone. “But, methinks, you’ll be tired of my company before I am of yours. I am by no means sorry to have an opportunity of a little confidential chat with you, as it may lead to a result advantageous to both of us.”—’
“How so?” I cried.
“To begin — you will do well to make a friend of me.”
“I am of a contrary opinion. But let me hear what advantage I am likely to gain by a partnership with a rogue and a traitor.”
“Nay, if you employ such terms as those, we are not likely to come to any understanding,” he rejoined, sharply. “It seems to me, that for so shrewd a young gentleman as you appear to be, you are singularly blind to your own interests.”
“Why, yes, I happen to have notions on the score of honesty and straightforward conduct which appear highly absurd to you, Pownall, I make no doubt. But such as they are, I act up to my opinions. I am quite sure you could serve me materially if you would; but I am equally certain you won’t.”
“Why are you so certain of it, may I ask, sir?”
“Because, by doing so, you would incur the chance of a tolerably long term of penal servitude.”
“That would not be very pleasant, I admit. But why take such a view of the case? The course I propose would accomplish your object, and bring no one into trouble — least of all, your humble servant.”
“I see very plainly what you are driving at, Pownall,” I rejoined, “and I am glad to learn that it is yet in your power to repair the mischief you have done.”
“It is quite in my power to put you in possession of your uncle Mobberley’s property, if you mean that,” he replied.
“You confess it then, scoundrel,” I cried—” you confess you stole the rightful will. You shall be compelled to produce it before a court of justice.”
“Stop, sir,” he rejoined. “You are getting on a leetle too fast. I may readily admit certain matters to you which I should be loth to admit if a third person were present; but as to compelling me to produce the will in a court of justice, you must first prove the existence of such a document, and next, that I have got it — nei
ther of which you can easily do. For you may rely upon it that if any steps are taken against me, such as you threaten, the precious document in question will be destroyed. Now, sir, you will know how to act.”
And he burst into a mocking laugh, which provoked me to such a degree that I felt inclined to brain him with the butt-end of the pistol.
“Come! come! my good young sir,” he cried, checking his ill-timed hilarity, apprehensive, perhaps, of irritating me too much; “let us be reasonable. An affectation of stern morality may have great influence with some folks — with me it has none at all. I am apt to be sceptical when a man deliberately tells me that he will sacrifice his own interests for a point of principle. He takes me for a fool, but I know him to be a hypocrite. Now, you are a person of good sense — a little too hasty, perhaps — but shrewd enough when you choose to exercise your judgment properly. Look at the matter as it ought to be looked at. There is only one way in which you can ever gain your. point — namely, by employing me.”
“By buying you, in short.”
“Well, by buying me, if you like the term. Of course, you can’t expect to get a good thing for nothing, and won’t grumble at paying for it.”
“You are a cool hand, Simon!” I cried, with irrepressible disgust, “and persuade yourself that your criminality cannot be proved. You are deceived. There is a witness who can tell how you purloined that will, and I will obtain his evidence.”
“No, you won’t, sir,” he rejoined, in a tone of defiance. “The man you allude to will never peach. He would rather bite off his tongue than utter a word to serve you, so bring him forward and welcome. Much good Phaleg will do you — ha! ha!
But I am sure you must have had enough of my society, so I’ll relieve you of it.”
“Hardly so,” I rejoined. “You will not quit this room, unless I consign you to some one who will detain you in safe custody till the morrow.”
“It will be useless to ring,” he observed, with a laugh. “All the servants are a-bed, and, even if they heard the bell, they wouldn’t answer it. I will summon assistance for you, for I am as anxious to be gone as you can be to get rid of me.”
And, before I could prevent him, he struck three heavy blows with his mallet, which he still held, upon the floor. While I was wondering what would ensue, a tap was heard at the door, and a voice which sounded like that of Mr. Hazilrigge inquired what was the matter?
Greatly surprised, I called to the old gentleman to come in — but after waiting for a moment, finding that my request was not attended to, I sprang to the door, opened it, and looked out.
No one was there that I could discern, for it was pitch-dark in the corridor. Neither did any one answer when I spoke. I did not think it possible that Pownall could have stirred without my hearing him; and not the slightest sound reached my ears. But when I turned, he was gone.
Greatly provoked, I proceeded to search the room, hoping to detect a sliding panel or secret door through which he might have passed. But in vain.
CHAPTER XIII.
WHEREIN OLD HAZY ENDEAVOURS TO PERSUADE ME THAT I HAVE BEEN DELUDED BY AN EVIL SPIRIT.
THAT Simon Pownall would return to his own room in the Old Grange by some secret passage communicating with it, I nothing doubted, but that he would be found there in the morning appeared highly improbable. Unless, therefore, I intended to let him get off altogether, I must effect his recapture without loss of time.
It was provoking in the extreme to be outwitted and derided by the rascal. Yet what could be done. To alarm the house and obtain the assistance of the servants seemed the only course to be pursued under the circumstances; but the objections to such a step were twofold. In the first place, I must necessarily create a great disturbance, and this I did not like to do. Secondly, it was almost certain that Old Hazy would prohibit any interference with his associate. The extraordinary audacity exhibited by Simon Pownall could only arise from confidence in the hold he had, by some means or other, obtained over the credulous old gentleman.”
“What was to be done?” I asked myself again? Unable to answer the question satisfactorily, I at length made up my mind to abide patiently till the morrow. And so I retired to rest.
Sleep, though long in coming, visited me at last; and I had just opened my eyes in the morning when Mr. Ponder entered my room, and approaching the foot of my bed, observed, with more than his usual gravity of manner, “I am afraid, sir, you must have been a good deal disturbed last night.’
I made no reply, and he continued:
“I feel assured that you must have had a visit from the ghost, sir. My bedroom is situated immediately above this chamber, and about one o’clock I heard the dreadful knocking quite distinctly. After that I heard voices, as if a long conversation were taking place. Then came three startling knocks. And then all was still.”
“If you heard this, Mr. Ponder, why on earth didn’t you come down to me?” I demanded.
“Come down to you, sir!” he exclaimed. “Lord love you! I hadn’t courage enough to get out of bed. I wouldn’t have entered this room at that unearthly hour for fifty pounds — and that’s more than my year’s wages. On hearing the last three knocks I dived under the bed-clothes to shut the ghost from my sight in case it should rise through the floor.”
“I did not suppose you were such a poltroon, Mr. Ponder.”
“I am no coward in broad daylight, sir, but at dead of night, and in a haunted house like this — with supernatural objects swarming around you — it’s a different matter altogether. I’m not ashamed to confess my fears. — But, save us! what’ this?” he cried, starting back in affright. “As I’m a sinner, the ghost has left its mallet behind it!”
“Indeed!” I exclaimed; “I didn’t notice it. Beach it to me, Ponder.”
“I wouldn’t touch it for the world!” he cried, recoiling.
“Why, surely you don’t imagine there can be mischief in that wooden hammer,” I observed, laughing. “It won’t strike you.”
“I don’t know that,” he answered, in great trepidation. “At any rate, I won’t give it the chance. Can I be of any further use to you, sir?” he added, evidently anxious to depart.
I told him that I had a little commission which I wished him to execute for me; and on his promising prompt compliance, I bade him go to the Old Grange and ascertain whether Doctor Hooker was still there.
“Merely make the inquiry,” I said, “without stating who sent you.”
“I can satisfy you at once on the point, sir,” he replied. “My master sent me with a message to the same gentleman more than hour ago, and Stephen Blackden himself informed me that Doctor Hooker left at eight o’clock last night.”
“Stephen Blackden must have misinformed you,” I cried. “Doctor Hooker was here — in this very room — an hour after midnight.”
“Here, sir!” Ponder ejaculated, staring at me!— “Here! — in this room, an hour after midnight! Pray, how did he get in?”
“That’s more than I can explain. But here he was, most undoubtedly. And by your own account you must have heard him conversing with me. It was no ghost who visited me last night, Ponder, but a mortal like ourselves.”
“I wish I had known that, sir?” the butler replied; “I’d been down with you in a trice. But you haven’t told me in what manner the doctor disappeared.”
“He vanished suddenly from my sight — that is all I can tell you. He may be hidden in the room now, for aught I know to the contrary.”
“Zounds! sir, I hope not. Mayhap he flew through the window. It wouldn’t be a difficult feat for a conjuror — and folks say the doctor is one. I wonder my master likes the society of a man who, beyond all doubt, must be in league with Beelzebub.”
“Is the doctor, as you style him, much with Mr. Hazilrigge?” I inquired.
“More than he should be, if I may presume to say so,” Ponder replied. “He is often with my master in the library, and there they sit poring for hours over those abominable books of witchcraf
t and magic. I should like to see ’em all burnt; and so would Miss Hazilrigge, for I’ve heard her say so.”
“I should rejoice in such an auto da fe myself,” I rejoined. “I wish the Holy Inquisition could get hold of Doctor Hooker. Miss Hazilrigge, I am sure, cannot approve of such a person.”
“Approve of him! — not she, sir. But my master has his fancies, and won’t be interfered with by his sister, or by any one else. Doctor Hooker has got an unaccountable influence over him. But perhaps I’ve said too much on this subject already, sir.”
And receiving no answer, for I had fallen into a reverie, the butler bowed respectfully, as was his wont, and retired.
As it was pretty certain now that Simon Pownall had decamped, I was forced to abandon all idea of recapturing him for the present. Before going down stairs, however, I took another and more rigorous survey of the room — examined the panels, and struck them here and there with the mallet which my nocturnal visitor had left behind, but could detect nothing to indicate a secret door. I specially directed my attention to that part of the chamber where the bed was placed; but the panels seemed just as solid here as elsewhere. Wherever it might be, the entrance was exceedingly well concealed, and completely baffled my researches.
After this I went down stairs. Nothing worthy of note occurred at breakfast, except that Ora did not join the party. I made no allusion to my adventure overnight — reserving what I had to say for my host’s private ear. Luckily I was not questioned on the subject, Miss Hazilrigge and Cuthbert Spring being too much occupied with each other to trouble themselves about me or Old Hazy.
As we rose from table I volunteered to accompany the old gentleman to his sanctum: but I half repented the step when, on ushering me into the room, he closed the door, and, forcing me into a chair, without allowing me to utter a word of remonstrance, hurried to the book-shelves, and, taking down a little volume, exclaimed:
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 472
