Wilfrid Cumbermede by George MacDonald (free ebook reader for iphone .TXT) 📖

anything else in the house, like a piece of the past embedded in the present-a fragment that had been, by some eddy in the stream of time, prevented from gliding away down its course, and left to lie for ever in a cranny of the solid shore of unmoving space. But although subject to more than the ordinary tremor at the thought of unknown and invisible presences, I must say for myself that I had never yielded so far as to allow such tremor to govern my actions. Even in my dreams I have resisted ghostly terrors, and can recall one in which I so far conquered a lady-ghost who took every means of overcoming me with terror, that at length she fell in love with me, whereupon my fear vanished utterly-a conceited fancy, and as such let it fare.

I opened the door then with some trembling, half expecting to see first the white of my grannie's cap against the tall back of her dark chair. But my senses were sound, and no such illusion seized me. All was empty, cheerless, and musty. Grannie's bed, with its white curtains, looked as if it were mouldering away after her. The dust lay thick on the counterpane of patchwork silk. The bureau stood silent with all its secrets. In the fire-place was the same brushwood and coals which Nannie laid the morning of grannie's death: interrupted by the discovery of my presence, she had left it, and that fire had never been lighted. Half for the sake of companionship, half because the air felt sepulchral and I was thinly clad, I put my candle to it and it blazed up. My courage revived, and after a little more gazing about the room, I ventured to sit down in my grannie's chair and watch the growing fire. Warned, however, by the shortness of my candle, I soon rose to proceed with my search, and turned towards the bureau.

Here, however, the same difficulty occurred. The top of the bureau was locked as when I had last tried it, and not one of my keys would fit it. At a loss what to do or where to search, I dropped again into the chair by the fire, and my eyes went roving about the room. They fell upon a black dress which hung against the wall. At the same moment I remembered that, when she gave me the watch, she took the keys of the bureau from her pocket. I went to the dress and found a pocket, not indeed in the dress, but hanging under it from the same peg. There her keys were! It would have been a marvel to me how my aunt came to leave them undisturbed all those years, but for the instant suggestion that my uncle must have expressed a wish to that effect. With eager hand I opened the bureau. Besides many trinkets in the drawers, some of them of exceedingly antique form, and, I fancied, of considerable value, I found in the pigeon-holes what I was far more pleased to discover-a good many letters, carefully tied in small bundles, with ribbon which had lost all determinable colour. These I reserved to take an early opportunity of reading, but replaced for the present, and, having come at last upon one hopeful-looking key, I made haste to return before my candle, which was already flickering in the socket, should go out altogether, and leave me darkling. When I reached the kitchen, however, I found the grey dawn already breaking. I retired once more to my chamber, and was soon fast asleep.

In the morning, my first care was to try the key. It fitted. I oiled it well, and then tried the lock. I had to use considerable force, but at last there came a great clang that echoed through the empty room. When I raised the lid, I knew by the weight it was of iron. In fact, the whole chest was iron with a casing of oak. The lock threw eight bolts, which laid hold of a rim that ran all round the lip of the chest. It was full of 'very ancient and fish-like' papers and parchments. I do not know whether my father or grandfather had ever disturbed them, but I am certain my uncle never had, for, as far back as I can remember, the part of the room where it stood was filled with what had been, at one time and another, condemned as lumber.

Charley was intensely interested in the discovery, and would have sat down at once to examine the contents of the chest, had I not persuaded him to leave them till the afternoon, that we might get on with our work at the Hall.

The second room was now ready for the carpenter, but, having had a peep of tapestry behind the shelves, a new thought had struck me. If it was in good preservation, it would be out of the question to hide it behind books.

I fear I am getting tedious. My apology for diffuseness in this part of my narrative is that some threads of the fringe of my own fate show every now and then in the record of these proceedings. I confess also that I hang back from certain things which are pressing nearer with their claim for record.

When we reached the Hall, I took the carpenter with me, and had the bookshelves taken down. To my disappointment we found that an oblong piece of some size was missing from the centre of the tapestry on one of the walls. That which covered the rest of the room was entire. It was all of good Gobelins work-somewhat tame in colour. The damaged portion represented a wooded landscape with water and reedy flowers and aquatic fowl, towards which in the distance came a hunter with a crossbow in his hand, and a queer, lurcher-looking dog bounding uncouthly at his heel; the edge of the vacant space cut off the dog's tail and the top of the man's crossbow.

I went to find Sir Giles. He was in the dining-room, where they had just finished breakfast.

'Ah, Mr Cumbermede!' he said, rising as I entered, and holding out his hand-'here already?'

'We have uncovered some tapestry, Sir Giles, and I want you to come and look at it, if you please.'

'I will,' he answered. 'Would any of you ladies like to go and see it?'

His daughter and Clara rose. Lady Brotherton and Mrs Osborne sat still. Mary, glancing at her mother, remained seated also.

'Won't you come, Miss Pease?' I said.

She looked almost alarmed at the audacity of the proposal, and murmured, 'No, thank you,' with a glance at Lady Brotherton, which appeared as involuntary as it was timid.

'Is my son with you?' asked Mrs Osborne.

I told her he was.

'I shall look in upon you before the morning is over,' she said quietly.

They were all pleased with the tapestry, and the ladies offered several conjectures as to the cause of the mutilation.

'It would be a shame to cover it up again-would it not, Sir Giles?' I remarked.

'Indeed it would,' he assented.

'If it weren't for that broken piece,' said Clara. 'That spoils it altogether. I should have the books up again as soon as possible.'

'It does look shabby,' said Charley. 'I can't say I should enjoy having anything so defective always before my eyes.'

'We must have it taken down very carefully, Hobbes,' said Sir Giles, turning to the carpenter.

' Must it come down, Sir Giles?' I interposed. 'I think it would be risky. No one knows how long it has been there, and though it might hang where it is for a century yet, and look nothing the worse, it can't be strong, and at best we could not get it down without some injury, while it is a great chance if it would fit any other place half as well.'

'What do you propose, then?'

'This is the largest room of the six, and the best lighted-with that lovely oriel window: I would venture to propose, Sir Giles, that it should be left clear of books and fitted up as a reading-room.'

'But how would you deal with that frightful lacuna in the tapestry?' said Charley.

'Yes,' said Sir Giles; 'it won't look handsome, I fear-do what you will.'

'I think I know how to manage it,' I said. 'If I succeed to your satisfaction, will you allow me to carry out the project?'

'But what are we to do with the books, then? We shan't have room for them.'

'Couldn't you let me have the next room beyond?'

'You mean to turn me out, I suppose,' said Clara.

'Is there tapestry on your walls?' I asked.

'Not a thread-all wainscot-painted.'

'Then your room would be the very thing.'

'It is much larger than any of these,' she said.

'Then do let us have it for the library, Sir Giles,' I entreated.

'I will see what Lady Brotherton says,' he replied, and left the room.

In a few minutes we heard his step returning.

'Lady Brotherton has no particular objection to giving up the room you want,' he said. 'Will you see Mrs Wilson, Clara, and arrange with her for your accommodation?'

'With pleasure. I don't mind where I'm put-unless it be in Lord Edward's room-where the ghost is.'

'You mean the one next to ours? There is no ghost there, I assure you,' said Sir Giles, laughing, as he again left the room with short, heavy steps. 'Manage it all to your own mind, Mr Cumbermede. I shall be satisfied,' he called back as he went.

'Until further notice,' I said, with grandiloquence, 'I request that no one may come into this room. If you are kind enough to assort the books we put up yesterday, oblige me by going through the armoury. I must find Mrs Wilson.'

'I will go with you,' said Clara. 'I wonder where the old thing will want to put me. I'm not going where I don't like, I can tell her,' she added, following me down the stair and across the hall and the court.

We found the housekeeper in her room. I accosted her in a friendly way. She made but a bare response.

'Would you kindly show me where I slept that night I lost my sword, Mrs Wilson?' I said.

'I know nothing about your sword, Mr Cumbermede,' she answered, shaking her head and pursing up her mouth.

'I don't ask you anything about it, Mrs Wilson; I only ask you where I slept the night I lost it.'

'Really, Mr Cumbermede, you can hardly expect me to remember in what room a visitor slept-let me see-it must be twelve or fifteen years ago! I do not take it upon me.'

'Oh! never mind, then. I referred to the circumstances of that night, thinking they might help you to remember the room; but it is of no consequence; I shall find it for myself. Miss Coningham will, I hope, help me in the search. She knows the house better than I do.'

'I must attend to my own business first, if you please, sir,' said Clara. 'Mrs Wilson, I am ordered out of my room by Mr Cumbermede. You must find me fresh quarters, if you please.'

Mrs Wilson stared.

'Do you mean, miss, that you want your things moved to another bed-room?'

'That is what I mean, Mrs Wilson.'

'I must see what Lady Brotherton says to