The Coming of the King Part 16

As I have said, therefore, I again climbed the tree, and obtained a view of the chamber, and ere long saw the old man seated at a table, and by the aid of a lamp was reading some scrolls, which he had spread out before him. I watched him a few moments in silence, noting the eager look upon his face, and the evident ardour with which he sought to understand the writing on the parchment before him. Presently I saw him take certain powders from a drawer, and place them in a pot, into which he also poured some liquid. This done, he placed the pot on the fire, and watched the liquid with great care.

It was at this time that I determined to seek entrance. But how? I knew that every door was securely bolted, every window barricaded. If I was to enter, therefore, it must be by strategy. If the woman had obtained admission the previous night there seemed no reason why the door could not be opened to me. But what were the means she had used? I called myself a fool for not following her, and thus learning the means she had used; but that was futile now. Wisdom after a thing has happened is generally foolishness, and so I ransacked my brains in thinking of what she must have done.

I have not set it down in these pages, but I did remember the previous night that, when the woman drew near the house, I heard a noise like the cry of a screech-owl. At the time I put it down to the night bird, but now it occurred to me that it might have been a means whereby she obtained entrance. At any rate, it could do no harm, and therefore I slid silently down the tree, and made my way to the great door, where the woman had entered.

I must confess to a fast-beating heart as I stood by the great iron-studded door. After all, I knew nothing of what I should see within the walls, and the very mystery made every nerve tingle, while there came to the eyes of my imagination pictures of many strange doings. So strong was this feeling upon me that I stood still, scarce daring to move. Then I saw in the moonlight what had escaped me in the early morning. A piece of string hung by the postern of the door. Indeed, I believe that it had not been there then. What did it mean? On closer examination I saw that it was pa.s.sed through a hole in the woodwork.

Scarcely realizing what I was doing, I tugged at the piece of string, and immediately I heard a kind of clanking noise within. This, although I might have expected some such result, startled me so that I cried out almost involuntarily.

A minute later the clanking ceased, and then silence reigned again. But now that I had once tugged at the string, and no harm had happened to me, I pulled it again and then, using what powers of mimicry I had, I cried out as I had heard the screech-owl cry among the trees around my old home.

Again I listened, and this time I heard cautious footsteps. I judged then, as I know now, that the footsteps were m.u.f.fled, nevertheless there was something very weird in listening to the stealthy tread of some one creeping nearer and nearer to me. A minute later I knew that some one stood at the other side of the door. I heard some one murmuring, and then another silence followed. I waited I should think a minute, but no further sound came, whereupon I again repeated the cry of the night bird. At this, I heard the clanking of chains and the shooting of bolts, as though the one within were preparing to open the door, after which there was again a moment's silence as if he hesitated.

"Are you prepared to pay the price of entrance?"

The words were uttered in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, and at that time they seemed to contain some occult meaning, so that for a moment I hesitated to reply. But I summoned up my courage, and made answer also in a hoa.r.s.e whisper--

"I am prepared."

Then the great door began to creak and to slowly open. Knowing how much depended on my speed of action, no sooner was the aperture between the door and its lintel a few inches wide than, putting all my strength against it, I forced it back, and found myself inside the building before he who had opened it had been able to obtain a glimpse of me.

CHAPTER IX

FATHER SOLOMON AT BAY

So sudden had been my movement that I had caused the old man to stagger back, nevertheless he did not lose his footing, and when he caught sight of me, I thought I detected a desire on his part to rush through the open doorway. So, before he could take any such action, I closed the door with a loud noise--a noise which resounded through the great lonely building.

I could see that my entrance had astonished him. That he expected some one else was evident, and from the look in his eyes I knew that he had no knowledge nor suspicion as to who I was. He held a small oil lamp on the level of his head, by which means he caused its light to fall directly on my face. I saw, too, that his keen deep-set eyes rested on me as though he would read my thoughts, and I judged that he was at a loss how he should treat me.

"And so you would use your brute strength to enter the house of a lonely man, who desires only that he may seek to do the will of G.o.d," he said slowly, and I could have sworn that he was seeking to measure my strength and was calculating whether it would be wise to throw himself upon me.

I do not know why it was, but for answer I only laughed. Perhaps this was because the old man's voice had driven away the last vestige of superst.i.tious fear.

"You are young for your trade, young master," he continued, still keeping his eyes steadily fixed on me, "and if my old eyes do not tell me falsely, you are ill fitted for it. Your face tells me that you should be an honest youth, not a roystering and lying housebreaker and highwayman. So leave me at once. I have naught of which you can rob me.

Gold and silver have I none. I am simply a harmless old man who seeks to spend the rest of his days in communion with his thoughts and his Maker."

"Your age hath taught you but little wisdom, if it hath taught you that I am a footpad," I said. "Neither do I seek gold or silver."

"Then what do you seek?" he asked with a snarl.

"A quiet hour with you."

I saw him glance quickly around the entrance hall of the house in which we stood, as though he feared we were not alone. Then he took a step nearer to me.

"A quiet hour, young man?"

"Ay, a quiet hour."

"I tell you this," and his voice became bitter: "If you do not leave this house--nay, nay." He stopped as if to correct himself. "A quiet hour--ay, a quiet hour, that you shall have, young master. So quiet that you shall not even know when it hath come to an end, so quiet that the spirits of the dead which haunt this house shall scarcely know when you have entered their worshipful company."

By this time I saw that he had recovered from the surprise he had experienced at my entrance. His deep-set eyes rested steadily upon me, and he spoke like one in deep thought. I therefore watched him closely, for although he was an old man, he shewed no sign of feebleness. His eyes were keen and alert, and he moved with the activity of youth.

"But why wish you this quiet hour, young master?"

"To know many things which you can tell me," I answered boldly enough, although I was anything but light hearted.

"Ay, I will tell you of many things," he said quickly, "things that you will never repeat, my son, never, never, never."

He repeated the word as I have written it down with great solemnity, and for the last time between his set teeth and with terrible intensity.

"Did you take advice from any man before you sought admission within these walls, young master?" he went on, "Did you commend your soul to your Maker? Did you bid good-bye to all you hold most dear?"

"I did not do any of these things, Father Solomon," I answered as jauntily at I could.

"Thus you show your foolishness."

"That is as may be," I made answer.

"And what do you think will be the end of this visit?" he asked, and I thought his interest was growing in me.

"The end, Father Solomon?" I replied with a laugh. "The end will be that you will tell me what I wish to know, and then we shall say good-bye."

"You are but a youth," he said solemnly. "You are yet only on the threshold of life, therefore it grieves even me that you should be cut off before your prime. And yet I see no chance of your escape. You have entered the region of the departed dead, you have lifted to your lips the goblet of which lost souls drink. Still, I would save you if I could. If you will take the oath that I shall prescribe, an oath to the Prince of Darkness who reigns here, then may I be persuaded to allow you to depart without injury."

The man made me shiver as he spoke, but I had not come hither to be frightened before my work was begun. So I summoned up all my courage, and laughed in his face.

"You laugh!" he cried angrily, "but in an hour from now you shall hear only the laughter of devils. The only words of comfort that you shall hear shall come from the lips of h.e.l.l-hags, who shall drag you deeper and deeper down into the caverns of darkness."

"Have done with this, Elijah Pycroft," I said quietly, for this threat made me feel that he was uttering only gipsy cant.

He started as I mentioned his name, but still he kept up the part which I believed he was trying to play.

"Come, power of darkness, and seize him," he cried, like one invoking some distant being; "tear his soul from his body, and drag it into eternal gloom!" Then turning to me, he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "Listen I do you not hear them coming? Fly ere it be too late."

"Let your powers of darkness come, Elijah," I said quietly, "but I tell you this: before they come there are certain things you will have to tell me."

"What things?" he snarled. "Tell me who you are? Tell me what you want?"

"All in good time," I said confidently, for by this time I began to enjoy the situation rather than to fear it; "but before I tell you aught let me go to your workshop, Master Elijah--the chamber where you keep your grinning skulls and your witch potions. For I have a great desire to enter that chamber. Ay, you must have rare doings there! Last night you received pretty women, and to-night you receive not women, but a man with a sword and pistols in his belt. Ay, and the pistols are loaded, Master Elijah, and I am a fair marksman."

"Very well," he said after a moment's thought. "On your own head be the curse of your acts. But wait here for one moment. I will e'en go and prepare the room for your coming."

"Nay, nay, we will go together," I replied. "I love your company so much that I cannot bear the thought of your departure."

As quietly as one could think, he had blown out the light, and I heard him rush away into the darkness. Had I hesitated a moment I should have lost him, but a ray of moonlight having penetrated the place, I was able to follow his movements. I caught him by the arm and held him fast.