Roger Trewinion Part 16

"Very well."

"Well, I'll tell 'ee the charm:--

Christ was of a Virgin born, And He was p.r.i.c.k'd by a thorn, And it did never throb nor swell, And I trust in Jesus this never will.

Christ was crowned with thorns; The thorns did bleed but did not rot.

No more shall thy finger, In the name of Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

I could not help a creepy feeling coming over me as she uttered the words. I remembered her charming the place where the thorn had been and rubbing some ointment over it, and I also remember how quickly I had ease.

"So, my deer," she went on, "tedn't always a bad power that witches have."

"Well," I said at length, "have you asked me to come in here in order that you might tell me this?"

"Not all, my deer. I've wa'anted to show 'ee as ow I've got power, Maaster Roger, and that tedn't oal bad. And I want 'ee to harken to me so that you may not have the Trewinion's curse."

"Can you stop it?" I asked.

"I weth others can," she said.

"But the curse of the Trewinion's will not come upon me," I said, "for I shall not do anything to incur it."

"Wa'ant 'ee, but you will, Maaster Roger, and ef you doan't do as I tell 'ee you'll rue it to yer dyin' day. I see it comin', I see it comin'," and she lifted her skinny hand above her head. "I zee Maaster Roger beggard, I zee un starvin', I zee un mad wi' shame, I zee un ouseless, and omeless, I zee hes brother where he ought to be oal through Trewinion's curse."

In spite of myself I felt the old woman to be speaking the truth.

"But I will abide by everything written for my safety," I said.

"You ca'ant, you ca'ant," she screamed.

"Why?" I asked.

"You were born in a onlucky month, and the onlucky week of the month, and a onlucky day of the week, and an onlucky time ov the day."

"Why, when was I born?"

"You was born at nine o'clock ov a Friday evenin', in the third week in May," she said.

"And I can do nothing to avert the curse?"

"No, but I can."

"How?"

"Will 'ee come wi' me to Betsey Fraddam's cave?"

"When?"

"To-night."

"At what time?"

"Twelve o'clock."

"No," I said with a shudder.

She glared at me with her evil eye, then she said slowly:

"You'll come."

Betsey Fraddam's cave had an evil reputation. It was the meeting-place for all the evil women in the neighbourhood. Women who possessed terrible power. I had been taught to believe in them and to avoid coming into collision with them.

"Who'll be there?" I asked.

"You'll see," she said.

I went home soon after, pondering over Deborah's words. We retired to bed early at our house, and by ten o'clock quietness reigned everywhere. I could not sleep, however. My mind was excited by what old Deborah had told me, and when eleven o'clock came I had an intense desire to go to Fraddam's cave. The witch of Fraddam was almost a household word among the simple people. It was said that she was constantly raising storms and working mischief, and that if any one saw her thus engaged, woe be to that one for ever after. From my earliest childhood I had been frightened with stories of Betsey Fraddam's cave.

It was whispered that the terrible witch herself met the living witches and goaded them on to terrible deeds.

Still I wanted to go. In the silence of the night the curse of the Trewinion's became terrible to me, and I was anxious to know how I could avert it. Besides, so much had my mind been filled with stories of the superst.i.tious and wonderful that I felt afraid to disobey the old woman's summons. It is true I was a young man fairly well educated, and as a consequence disbelieved many of the stories of a priest-ridden age. And it may be that as the years roll by future generations may disbelieve in what we speak of to-day, even as we disbelieve the stories of the past. Nevertheless, at half-past eleven I rose and dressed quietly in order to go down to Fraddam's cave.

I remembered the old vicar's words, however, and said my prayers before starting, and then hurried down the precipitous pathway to the sand.

The tide was out, and I could hear the sweet murmur of the sea in the distance. There was no wind, and the pale light of the moon lit up the scene, which was grand in the extreme. On my right hand behind me, rose the giant cliffs, rugged and forbidding, on the great headland stood our house, bluff and bold like an old castle.

I looked in the direction of the cave of evil repute, but could see nothing. My heart throbbed wildly. As old Deborah had said, we Trewinions never feared the living, but we trembled at the thought of the dead.

As I drew near Fraddam's cave I saw a twinkling light, and on coming up to its mouth I saw the bent form of an old woman.

"Trewinion's heir!" said a voice, and the light was taken into the cave.

As if drawn on by a charm I entered. It was the first time I had ever dared to do so. Often had I pa.s.sed by the cave; but its reputation for evil was so terrible that I had avoided entering it. I doubt whether any inhabitant for miles around would ever think of intruding in a place which, it was believed, belonged to the powers of darkness.

The cave became larger the farther I penetrated into it, and was lit up by a ruddy kind of light. I noticed, too, in spite of my fears, that the main cave led to smaller ones, and that on each side of the entrance the ground was honeycombed. Presently the light became brighter, and, turning a sharp angle, I saw a good sized fire, on which a crock was steaming round about which weird forms sat. The ground was quite dry and it was evident the tide seldom came so far. As my eyes became more accustomed to the light, I recognised some of the women who sat there. Betsey Flue, Mally Udy, and Tory Bone lived within a mile of Trewinion Manor, and had doubtful reputations.

None of them looked at me for some time. They were intent on watching the fire and the steaming crock. The smell from this article was by no means unpleasant, evidently some savoury meat was being cooked, and I began to feel the place to be less gruesome than I had at first antic.i.p.ated. I noticed, too, that a great many things were stowed away which could have no connection with the unseen world. Evidently the cave was used by smugglers as well as witches.

"Let Debrah Teague spaik," said an aged crone.

"Maaster Roger do knaw what I main," said Deborah. "There's an awful curse for the Trewinion 'ouse, and unless Maaster Roger do as we do tell un he'll ave it."

Ghastly as was the sight, uncanny as was the place, this speech of the old woman dispelled much of my fear. The nocturnal gatherings of witches were in my idea always a.s.sociated with mysterious incantations.

Although Shakespeare was a forbidden book to us boys, I had read "Macbeth," and this meeting was altogether dissimilar from the meeting of witches therein described. In spite of everything, I could not help thinking these old women were met for some sinister purpose far removed from the mysteries of witchcraft, so I said boldly:

"Old Deborah wanted me to come here; I have come. What do you want?"

"The curse is comin'. We can remove it," said the old woman who went by the name of Mally Udy.