The Solitary Farm Part 34

Crossing the boundary-channel, she saw the boat which her husband had lately bought. It was a narrow but comfortable craft of a light build, and the water-way was quite broad enough to permit if its being rowed very comfortably, even though the oars occasionally touched the banks.

Mrs. Vand looked at this boat with a singular expression, and then, stepping across the planks, walked up to her lordly abode. She found that her husband was absent, and had left word with the servant that he would not be back to dinner. Mrs. Vand was annoyed, as she did not like eating alone; but in her heart of hearts she was afraid of her quiet husband, even though he was considerably her junior, and made no comment. However, the servant who brought in the seven o'clock tea had much to say, and Mrs. Vand permitted her to talk, for, as usual, the sinister influence of the Manor was getting on her healthy nerves.

"Master's gone to the village, to see his ma," said the servant, who was small and elfish and somewhat brazen. "Then he's going to see Tunks."

"What's the matter with Tunks?" asked Mrs. Vand, pouring out the tea.

"He's ill. He's been drinking hard for weeks, ever since that horrid murder, mum, and now the doctor says he's got delirious tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs."

Mrs. Vand looked up sharply, and frowned. "He is raving?"

"Raving hard, mum. But master will see that he is looked after."

"Your master is very good," said Mrs. Vand, taking a piece of bread.

"You can go, Sarah."

The servant departed somewhat unwillingly, as she did not like the big, bare kitchen, and felt the influence of the unseen as did her mistress.

But as yet, ghostly doings had not been sufficiently scaring to make her throw up a good situation. Nevertheless, she shivered in the kitchen, and wished that Tunks was present to keep her company, as he often did, at the evening meal. But Tunks was raving at the present moment in the hut on the marshes, and there was no chance of anyone else coming to Bleacres.

Mrs. Vand sat and shivered in the dining-room also. She lighted three lamps, and although the evening was warm, she set fire to the coals and wood in the large, old-fashioned grate. It seemed to her that she could not have enough light or warmth to ward off the cold, malicious influence, which seemed to spread a sinister atmosphere throughout the vast room. Shivering at the head of the table, Mrs. Vand kept casting furtive looks here and there, as though she expected to see the blood-stained figure of her murdered brother appear like Banquo's spectre. Outside the twilight gradually deepened to luminous darkness, and although she had finished her tea, she did not feel inclined to move about the gloomy pa.s.sages. Again and again, she wished that Henry would return.

At nine o'clock her nerves were still shaky, and she felt that she could not stand the dining-room any longer. Ringing the bell, she took a lamp in each hand, and told Sarah--who entered speedily--to take the other.

The two women proceeded to the drawing-room, and Mrs. Vand, having pulled down the blinds, ordered Sarah to bring her work and sit beside her. The servant was only too pleased to obey, and for the next half-hour the two sat in pleasant gossiping confabulation, Mrs. Vand knitting a silk tie for her husband, and Sarah tr.i.m.m.i.n.g a wonderful hat with aggressively brilliant flowers. There was no noise, as the wind had dropped, and everything was intensely still. Mrs. Vand and Sarah chattered incessantly to keep up their courage in the ghostly atmosphere. Suddenly--

"Listen!" said Mrs. Vand, raising her hand. "Do you hear?"

Sarah turned white through her dingy skin, and held her breath. There came distinctly the sound of three knocks from somewhere near the fire-place; then a long, dreary sigh. The servant shrieked, and sprang for the door. But Mrs. Vand was after her in one moment, and seized her.

"Hold your tongue, you fool! It's only rats."

As if to give the lie to her statement, there came the swish, swish of silken skirts, and then the sigh again. This was too much for Mrs. Vand.

She scuttled panic-stricken into the hall, followed by the shrieking Sarah. At the same moment, as though it had been prearranged, the front door opened and Vand appeared.

"Oh, Henry! Henry!" gasped his wife, and clung to him.

The young man shook her off. "What is the matter?" he asked in calm tones. But Mrs. Vand being too terrified to answer, Sarah did so for her. "The ghost! the ghost! the ghost!"

"What rubbish!" said Vand, easily; "there is no ghost, you silly girl, and if there is, here is one who can lay it."

He stepped aside, and Granny Tunks, lean and weird-looking, appeared at the door. She had a white cloak over her fantastic dress, and looked more witch-like than ever. Mrs. Vand stared at the woman in surprise.

"Why have you left your grandson?" she asked, and glancing at Henry.

"He's sound asleep, deary, the fit having pa.s.sed. A gal o' mine, of the true Romany breed, looking after him. Your sweet husband here"--she waved a skinny hand towards Vand--"asked me to come and see what I could do to lay this unquiet spirit who walks."

"Rubbish! rubbish!" said Mrs. Vand, now feeling more confident in company.

"It's not rubbish, deary," said Mrs. Tunks, mysteriously; "the dead walk."

"The dead?"

"Your poor brother, as is uneasy at having been pitched out of life so cruel. He's walking," and she nodded weirdly.

On hearing this statement, Sarah whimpered and clutched at Mrs. Vand's dress, whereupon that lady who was extremely pale herself--shook her off. "Go to bed, Sarah," she commanded.

"Me!" screeched the girl, "and when there's ghosts walking! I'd scream myself into fits if I went up-stairs."

Mrs. Vand appealed to her husband. "Henry, make her go."

The young man took the girl by the shoulders, and propelled her towards the foot of the stairs, but Sarah resisted wildly, and finally made a bolt for the still open front door. "I'll go home to mother," she cried hysterically, and disappeared into the darkness.

"There," said Mrs. Vand, angrily, to Granny Tunks. "See what you've done. The house will get a bad name. I'll give that minx warning in the morning."

Vand, seeing that it was useless to run after the terrified Sarah, who by this time was half-way to Marshely, closed the door, and shrugged his shoulders. "Come into the drawing-room," he said to Mrs. Tunks.

"No, no!" cried his wife, shaking; "the ghost is there. I heard the rapping and the sighing and the----"

"Yes, yes, yes!" interrupted Vand, with less than his usual coolness; "that is why I have brought Granny. There is an evil influence in this house, and I want her to find out what it is."

"Do you believe in such rubbish?"

"You seemed to believe in it just now," said the cripple drily. "Yes, I do believe in the unseen, as I have had too much proof not to believe."

"Then get a priest, get a priest!" cried Mrs. Vand wildly, and looking twice her age. "What is the use of this old fool?"

Granny Tunks laughed in an elfish manner when she heard herself spoken of thus, and seemed very little put out. "A fool can do what a wise woman can't," she croaked; "your husband's wiser nor you, deary. He knows."

"Knows what?" asked Mrs. Vand, turning on the ancient gipsy fiercely.

"That there's danger coming to you and him."

Mrs. Vand cast one scared and indignant look on the withered face, and ran into the drawing-room. Henry had preceded her here, and was standing by the table looking round the room in an inquiring manner, evidently on the alert for the mysterious sounds. Mrs. Vand caught his arm. "Do you hear what this woman says?" she asked, shaking him.

"As the door was open I did hear," he replied coolly; "don't be a fool, Rosamund. I brought her here to see what she can tell us."

"About?--" Mrs. Vand faltered and broke down.

"Hold your tongue!" said Henry with an angry hiss like that of a serpent.

Usually the young man wore a mild and gentle expression, but on this night his face was haggard and his eyes were wild. He had all his wits about him, however, and forced his wife into a chair, where she sat trembling violently. "I've had enough of these ghostly pranks," he said in a fierce undertone, "and as Granny undoubtedly possesses clairvoyant powers, I wish her to learn all she can. Come in, Mrs. Tunks!" he added, raising his voice, and the old witch-wife entered the room, looking singularly weird in her white cloak.

"Is that the only reason that you have asked Granny here?" demanded Mrs.

Vand, in a low voice. "Sarah told me that her grandson had been raving."

"You fool!" snarled the cripple. "Will you hold your tongue? I have another purpose, which you will find out shortly. Granny," he pointed to a chair, "sit down and tell us what influences are about."

Mrs. Tunks sat in the indicated chair, and lay back with closed eyes.

Vand and his wife remained perfectly still, the latter gazing at the old witch in a terrified manner, as though dreading what she would say and do. The room was filled with shadows, even though three lamps were lighted, and the silence became quite oppressive. Mrs. Vand was a healthy animal, and not in the least imaginative, but after a time she felt that some evil influence was in the room, and tightly gripped her husband's hand. The perspiration broke out on her forehead. Henry gave her no comfort, not even by pressing her hand. His eyes were fixed on the perfectly expressionless and still face of Granny Tunks. The seance had all the elements of terror about it.

The gipsy lay as still as though carved out of stone, and the watchers could scarcely see the rise and fall of her breath. Deeper and deeper grew the stillness, so that even the fall of a pin could have been heard, had one been dropped. Apparently the body of Granny lay supine in the chair, but her spirit was far away--roaming the house, maybe. After a long pause, the woman began to speak in a low, expressionless voice, and almost without moving her withered lips.

"Gems," she said softly, "rare gems, blue and red and green; jewels of price and pearls of the ocean. They are in an ivory box. Long ago the woman who is standing near me"--Mrs. Vand started, looked, but could see nothing, yet the monotonous voice went on, as though the speaker really saw the form described--"wore those jewels. She has the face of a Roman empress. In Africa, many centuries ago--yes, in Africa, and she sinned to get those jewels. Now she laments that she has lost them."