Roger Trewinion Part 20

"Do 'ee knaw who made the light?"

"No," I replied. "I have been wondering what it meant."

"Iss, and you've bin tellin' Miss Ruth 'bout it, aint 'ee, Maaster Roger? I'll tell 'ee what you've zid (seen). You've zid Betsey Fraddam, my dear, and you do knaw what that do main."

"I know what foolish people say it means," I replied, "but I do not know what it really means."

"Do'ant 'ee? But you will. 'Tis nearly come, Maaster Roger. You defied and got vexed with they who would kip this from comin'; but 'tis comin' now!"

"What's coming now?"

"Trewinion's curse," she screamed.

"You hag," I cried, aroused into a pa.s.sion. "You have ill-wished me."

"Ill-wished 'ee? No, I ain't, and that you do knaw. We can't ill-wish a eldest son; but the curse es comin', and that we could have kipt off."

"See there, see there!" she continued, pointing towards the great forbidding-looking rock, "do 'ee zee the light? I can!"

Again I saw the flickering light on the rock between the great p.r.o.ngs, and my flesh crept with fear.

"Ted'n too late, is it?" she said. "Come to th' ould plaace to-night at the same time, and we may do summin."

"Do you think I'm a fool?" I said. "You cannot gull me with your stories, for I know your tricks."

She laughed in my face, revealing gums that were toothless save for one yellow fang that rested on her lower lip.

"Oa, I remember it, Maaster Roger," she said. "Ould Debrah do knaw the curse. La me zee, how do it go?--

His power be given to another, And he be crushed by younger brother, Then his son, though born the first, By the people shall be cursed; And for generations three Trewinion's heirs shall cursed be!

The old woman recited these lines glibly, as though they had been often on her lips, and she chuckled as she repeated them.

"Go home," I said, angrily, "and trouble me no longer with your ugly face."

"Iss! Iss! I'll go," she screamed; "but there'll be black days for you. Ah, yer brother'll be wise if you be'ant. Ah, a Trewinion disgraced, starvin', ruined!"

I turned savagely towards her, but old as she was she nimbly stepped out of my way, and pointed to the five-p.r.o.nged rock.

"The light es gone, and Maaster Roger's hope es gone, unless he do come to Betsy Fraddam's cave at midnight, and there 'ee'll zee strange things."

"You'll suffer for this, Deborah," I said, almost beside myself.

"Zee where you're standin'," she screamed, "and think of what you zeed three years agone, when you went to see the pa.s.sen."

I looked, and, to my horror, I remembered that long years before I had on this very spot seen a figure in white, which had disappeared on the edge of the cliff.

I was so astonished that for a minute I did not move, and when I recovered my senses Deborah had gone, although I thought I heard her croaking, mocking laugh a little distance away.

"The old woman is mad, Roger," said Ruth; "let us go home quickly."

I was nothing loth. I hurried on as though the furies were behind me, while Ruth was evidently as anxious as I to get indoors.

We had entered the old postern door, and were walking up the drive leading to the house, when a servant met me.

"Mr. Roger," he said, anxiously, "you must please come in at once."

"Why, is anything the matter?"

"Yes, your father has fallen off his horse and is badly hurt."

A great dread laid hold of me, but I hurried towards his room.

CHAPTER X

THE GATHERING DARKNESS

As I made my way along the dim corridors, fear gripped me. The weird form I had seen between the p.r.o.ngs of the "Devil's Tooth" had told me of darkness to come. This accident to my father was the fulfilment of the omen. Arrived at the door of my father's bedroom I heard m.u.f.fled voices within; but no sooner was my arrival known than I was immediately admitted. I found my father propped up in the bed by pillows. There was a ghastly cut upon his face, and his hair was clotted with blood. Evidently, too, he was suffering great pain, and he breathed with difficulty.

No sooner did he see me than he beckoned me to approach. Although I did not notice them at the time, I found out afterwards that my mother was there, and Mr. Polperrow, the vicar, together with Mr. Inch and the family doctor.

"Roger!" said my father, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes, father," I said, coming up and kneeling by his bedside.

My presence seemed to soothe him, for he gave evidence of less suffering, and a look of peace stole over his face.

He laid his right hand upon my head fondly. "My eldest-born boy," he said, slowly, "my big-hearted son. I am going to die, Roger," he said.

"No, father, no!"

"Yes, Roger, 'twill soon be over. Only a few hours at most. I have met with an accident, my boy. I was riding from Truro, and got near home, when three men, who had been drinking hard at the tavern near by, came out from the hedgeside and frightened Bess; she is a very flighty mare, you know. She gave a side leap and threw me. My foot caught in the stirrup, and I was dragged along the road until I fancy the mare trod on me."

He said this quite calmly, as though it were a matter of everyday occurrence. As for me, I could not speak, my heart was nearly bursting with pain.

"I want to say a few more things to you before I die, my own boy," he continued, slowly.

"Say what you will, father, but don't talk of dying. Surely, surely, the doctor here can make you well again."

"No, no, Roger, no doctor can cure me," and he looked wistfully into the doctor's face, who shook his head sadly. Then I felt sure that my father's words would come true; that soon I should lose him.

The doctor felt his pulse; then said that what my father wished to tell me must be told quickly.

"Yes, yes," said my father. "You, Roger, are my first-born, my own boy," and again he lingered lovingly over the words.