The Coming of the King Part 17

"Unhand me, or you shall die!" he cried.

I held him at arm's length and, although he was an old man, I shook him, not so much as to hurt him, but enough to make him feel that he was not in the hands of a maid of eighteen.

"Do you not fear me?" he cried. "Do you not know that even now I hear the footsteps of the dead?"

"I do not fear you," I said, "but you fear me. Come, Master Elijah Pycroft, who hath been dead and is come to life again, lead me to the room where last night you received the woman called Constance."

He stood still, but I felt his body trembling.

"If you will not," I went on, "I shall begin to threaten. And, mark you, although you pretend to pity me as an ignorant boy, I will perform my threats."

"Ay, and what can you do?" he snarled. "In a minute from now the h.e.l.l-hags which I have summoned from afar will be here, and then--ha, ha!"

"Before they can come I will e'en drag you through the Pycroft woods," I cried; "ay, and I will drag you to Folkestone town, and then, methinks, we shall see gay doings, Master Pycroft."

I meant what I said, for although I desired much to have quiet speech with him, he had angered me by his obstinacy and his threats. I think he felt this, too, for he said sullenly--

"It shall e'en be as you say."

"Then light your lamp again, Master Pycroft, or Father Solomon, whatever you may be pleased to call yourself," I said.

A minute later the lamp shone again, and then he ascended a broad stairway, I keeping close at his heels and ready for anything he might attempt to do. But he walked straight on. I think by this time he also had become interested to know more about the venturesome lad, whom he had not succeeded in frightening, and who had dared to hint that Elijah Pycroft had never died as had been given out to the world. Be that as it may, he uttered neither snarl nor threat as we threaded the long corridor through which he led me, and ere long we had entered the room of which I had taken such note the night before.

A candle still burnt here, which threw a ghostly light on the walls. I detected a strange odour coming from the fireplace, which, as I imagined, arose from the pot I had seen him put on the fire.

I closed the door behind me, and looked quickly around me. My nerves had now settled down to their normal experience, and, although I knew not why, I was enjoying the situation more than I can say. I knew, however, that I had need of all my wits, and that I must use great caution if I would obtain that for which I had set out.

The added light of the lamp to the candle made the room bright, and, noting that curtains hung by the window, I drew them across it whole the old man gazed at me in wonder.

"I wonder that one so old and wise as you does not exercise more caution," I said quietly.

For a minute neither of us did aught but gaze at each other. He doubtless trying to recall some fact which might give him some clue to my ident.i.ty and tell him why I had dared to come hither, while I noted his every feature, and wondered at the strange life he led.

He was clothed in a long loose flannel gown which hung from his shoulders to his feet, and which was confined to his waist by a cord.

Altogether it was a kind of monkish attire. On his feet were shoes made of cloth, the which enabled him to walk almost noiselessly. He had never been a tall man, and now that age had somewhat diminished his form and his head had sunk low into his shoulders, he appeared what he really was, a shrivelled up old man, though hale and hearty withal.

Presently I thought he listened keenly, as though he expected the approach of some one, and once I thought he seemed on the point of crying out.

"I think it will be well to forget all about the witches and powers of darkness," I said quietly. "I can a.s.sure you they will not come. Rather let us talk quietly together."

I longed to know what was in his mind, but his face became blank as I spoke, so that I could read nothing.

"Well, ask your question," he said; "it will not be long now."

"Very well," I replied, "I will ensure our being undisturbed."

I had noticed an old iron bolt in the door, also a stout staple driven into the doorpost. I therefore quietly bolted the door.

"There," I said, "if the witches come it will take them time to get in."

He seemed more than ever discomfited at my coolness. He had been so long undisturbed that he seemed to wonder at any one daring to come to him in such a way.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he said helplessly. Then he added, "But let me tell you this: I know nothing."

"Who is this woman called Constance?" I asked.

At this his face became relieved. "Ha! ha!" he cried. "A lover, eh? He traced the fair Constance hither, and now his love makes him so brave that he dares to meet the ghost of Pycroft. But Constance is not for you, lad. She hath her duties as a wife--eh, a wife!"

"Wife or maid, who is she?"

"How do I know? I who--who----" here he relapsed into silence.

"But you will know before I leave this room," I made answer. "Also, you will tell me other things."

"What other things?"

"Among them, why you live here, and what you hide here."

"And if I will not tell you?"

"There is an old adage that a wizard is ten times worse than a witch, and many a witch hath died during these last twenty years. When King Charles comes to England it will be easy to prove that an old man at Pycroft Hall hath a familiar spirit."

"King Charles!" he cried, and his old eyes sparkled. "Am I afraid of King Charles? I will claim a secret audience with King Charles, and in two short minutes King Charles will obey me like a child."

"Obey you?"

"Ay, obey me. Now, then, do your worst. Fool that I was to be duped by a puling boy like thee, but since I have been a fool, I will e'en pay for it. Thou canst tell thy story--ay, thou canst drag me to Folkestone town. Well, what then? Suppose the ignorant fools which inhabit this countryside cry out for my death? Well, listen--I am Elijah Pycroft--a gentleman, and I can claim to have an ear of the king. And then it will be even as I say. Even King Charles will do the will of old Elijah Pycroft."

He had cast aside all his claims to the supernatural, and had become the clever scheming old man.

"I know what you mean," I replied quietly, "But the thing by which you think to obtain the mastery over the new king doth not exist."

He started to his feet like a man bereft of his senses.

"Doth not exist? What do you mean?"

"Oh, I have seen the mother of Lucy Walters," I replied.

"Thou hast seen----!" he stopped suddenly, his deep-set eyes darting angry glances at me and his body trembling with pa.s.sion.

"Ay, I have seen her; but it is no use. Do you think that Charles Stuart would ever wed such as she?"

"But he did, he did!" he cried, carried away by his pa.s.sion. "And what is more, I have proof of it--and----" Again he ceased speaking suddenly.

I saw that he had said more than he intended. Now this was the point to which I had aimed to bring him, and I tried to take him further.

"A vain boast," I said. "Where is it, if it exists?"

"Where you will never see it. But stay, tell me who you are? By what means did you obtain knowledge of these things?"