UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
SI OUR RISPENINSULAM-AMCHAM
CIRCUMSPICE
V817
ARTES
SCIENTIA
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
TIENOR
Gift of
Dr. Philip Parker















Dr. A. CONAN DOYLE.



SAPERE AUSE
The Mystery
of
Cloomber
A. CONAN
DOYLE
SI
H:M:CALDWELL
QR COMPANY EV
PAS NEW YORK U





}


THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
CHAPTER I.
THE HEGIRA OF THE WESTS FROM EDIN-
BURGH.
I, James Fothergill West, student of law in the
University of St. Andrews, have endeavored in
the ensuing pages to lay my statement before the
public in a concise and business-like fashion. It
is not my wish to achieve literary success; nor
Jhave I any desire by the graces of my style, or by
the artistic ordering of my incidents, to throw
a deeper shadow over the strange passages of
which I shall have to speak. My highest ambi-
tion is that those who know something of the
matter should, after reading my account, be able
to conscientiously indorse it without finding a
single paragraph in which I have either added to
or detracted from the truth. Should I attain this
result, I shall rest amply satisfied with the out-
come of my first, and probably my last, venture
in literature.
It was my intention to write out the sequence
of events in due order, depending upon trust-


2
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
worthy hearsay when I was describing that which
was beyond my own personal knowledge. I have
now, however, through the kind co-operation of
friends, hit upon a plan which promises to be
less onerous to me and more satisfactory to the
reader. This is nothing less than to make use
of the various manuscripts which I have by me
bearing upon the subject, and to add to them
first-hand evidence contributed by those who had
the best opportunities of knowing Major-General
J. B. Heatherstone. In pursuance of this design
I shall lay before the public the testimony of
Israel Stakes, formerly coachman at Cloomber
Hall, and of John Easterling, F.R.C.P. Edin.,
now practicing at Stranraer, in Wigtownshire.
To these I shall add a verbatim account extracted
from the journal of the late John Berthier Heath-
erstone, of the events which occurred in the Thul
Valley in the autumn of '41, toward the end of
the first Afghan war, with a description of the
skirmish in the Terada defile, and of the death
of the man Ghoolab Shah. To myself I reserve
the duty of filling up all the gaps and chinks
which may be left in the narrative. By this ar-
rangement I have sunk from the position of an
author to that of a compiler, but on the other
hand my work has ceased to be a story and has
expanded into a series of affidavits.
My father, John Hunter West, was a well-
known Oriental and Sanscrit scholar, and his


THE HEGIRA OF THE WESTS.
name is still of weight with those who are inter-
ested in such matters. He it was who first after
Sir William Jones called attention to the great
value of early Persian literature, and his transla-
tions from both Hafiz and from Ferideddin Atar
have earned the warmest commendations from
the Baron Von Hammer-Purgstall, of Vienna,
and other distinguished Continental critics. In
the issue of the Orientalisches Scienz-blatt for
January, 1861, he is described as "Der beruhmte
und sehr gelehrnte Hunter West von Edinburgh"
-a passage which I well remember that he cut
out and stowed away, with a pardonable vanity,
among the most revered family archives.
He had been brought up to be a solicitor, or
Writer to the Signet, as it is termed in Scotland,
but his learned hobby absorbed so much of his
time that he had little to devote to the pursuit of
his profession. When his clients were seeking
him at his chambers in George street he was
buried in the recesses of the Advocates' Library,
or poring over some moldy manuscript at the
Philosophical Institution, with his brain more ex-
ercised over the code which Menu propounded
six hundred years before the birth of Christ than
over the knotty problems of Scottish law in the
nineteenth century. Hence it can hardly be won-
dered at that as his learning accumulated his
practice dissolved, until at the very moment when
he had attained the zenith of his celebrity he had


THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
also reached the nadir of his fortunes. There
being no chair of Sanscrit in any of his native
universities, and no demand anywhere for the
only mental wares which he had to dispose of,
we should have been forced to retire into genteel
poverty, consoling ourselves with the aphorisms
and precepts of Firdousi, Omar Chiam, and other
of his Eastern favorites, had it not been for the
unexpected kindness and liberality of his half-
brother, William Farintosh, the Laird of Brank-
some, in Wigtownshire.
This William Farintosh was the proprietor of
a landed estate the acreage of which bore, unfor-
tunately, a most disproportional relation to its
value, for it formed the bleakest and most barren
tract of land in the whole of a bleak and barren
shire. As a bachelor, however, his expenses had
been small, and he had contrived from the rents
of his scattered cottages, and the sale of the Gal-
loway nags, which he bred upon the moors, not
only to live as a laird should, but to put by a
considerable sum in the bank. We had heard lit-
tle from our kinsman during the days of our
comparative prosperity; but just as we were at our
wits' end, there came a letter like a ministering
angel, giving us assurance of sympathy and suc-
cor. In it the Laird of Branksome told us that
one of his lungs had been growing weaker for
some time, and that Dr. Easterling, of Stranraer,
had strongly advised him to spend the few years
which were left to him in some more genial cli-


THE HEGIRA OF THE WESTS.
5
mate. He had determined, therefore, to set out
for the South of Italy, and he begged that we
should take up our residence at Branksome in his
absence, and that my father should act as his land
steward and agent at a salary which placed us
above all fear of want. Our mother had been dead
for some years, so that there were only myself,
my father, and my sister Esther to consult; and it
may readily be imagined that it did not take us
long to decide upon the acceptance of the laird's
generous offer. My father started for Wigtown that
very night, while Esther and I followed a few days
afterward, bearing with us two potato-sacks full
of learned books, and such other of our household
effects as were worth the trouble and expense of
transport.
CHAPTER II.
OF THE STRANGE MANNER IN WHICH A
TENANT CAME TO CLOOMBER.
Branksome might have appeared a poor dwell-
ing-place when compared to the house of an Eng-
lish squire; but to us, after our long residence in
stuffy apartments, it was of regal magnificence.
The building was broad-spread and low, with
red-tiled roof, diamond-paned windows, and a
profusion of dining-rooms with smoke-blackened
ceilings and oaken wainscots.
In front was a


6
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
small lawn, girt round with a thin fringe of hag-
gard and ill-grown beeches, all gnarled and with-
ered from the blighting effects of the sea spray.
Behind lay the scattered hamlet of Branksome-
Bere-a dozen cottages at most-inhabited by
rude fisher-folk who looked upon the laird as
their natural protector. To the west was the
broad yellow beach and the Irish sea; while in all
other directions the desolate moors, grayish green
in the foreground and purple in the distance,
stretched away in long low curves to the horizon.
Very bleak and lonely it was upon this Wig-
town coast. A man might walk many a weary
mile
and never see a living thing except the white
heavy-flapping kittiwakes, which screamed and
cried to each other with their shrill sad voices.
Very lonely and very bleak! Once out of sight of
Branksome and there was no sign of the works
of man save only where the high white tower of
Cloomber Hall shot up, like the headstone of
some giant grave, from amid the firs and larches
which girt it round. This great house, a mile
or more from our dwelling, had been built by a
wealthy Glasgow merchant of strange tastes and
lonely habits; but at the time of our arrival it had
been untenanted for many years, and stood with
weather-blotched walls and vacant staring win-
dows looking blankly out over the hillside.
Empty and mildewed, it served only as a land-
mark to the fishermen, for they had found by ex-


A TENANT COMES TO CLOOMBER.
perience that by keeping the laird's chimney and
the white tower of Cloomber in a line they could
steer their way through the ugly reef which raises
its jagged back, like that of some sleeping mon-
ster, above the troubled waters of the wind-swept
bay.
To this wild spot it was that fate had brought
my father, my sister, and myself. For us its lone-
liness had no terrors. After the hubbub and
bustle of a great city, and the weary task of up-
holding appearances upon a slender income, there
was a grand soul-soothing serenity in the long
sky-line and the eager air. Here at least there
was no neighbor to pry and chatter. The laird
had left his phaeton and two ponies behind him,
with the aid of which my father and I would go
the round of the estate doing such light duties
as fall to an agent; while our gentle Esther looked
to our household needs, and brightened the dark
old building. Such was our simple uneventful ex-
istence until the summer night when an unlooked-
for incident occurred which proved to be the her-
ald of those strange doings which I have taken
up my pen to describe.
It had been my habit to pull out of an evening
in the laird's skiff and to catch a few whiting
which might serve for our supper. On this well-
remembered occasion my sister came with me,
sitting with her book in the stern-sheets of the
boat, while I hung my lines over the bows. The


A TENANT COMES TO CLOOMBER.
kept by the house-agent at Wigtown. Were they
ever so curious, none of our people could find
their way in."
When I reflected upon the massive door and
ponderous shutters which guarded the lower story
of Cloomber I could not but admit the force of
my sister's objection. The untimely visitor must
either have used considerable violence in order
to force his way in, or he must have obtained
possession of the keys. Piqued by the little mys-
tery, I pulled for the beach, with the determina-
tion to see for myself who the intruder might be,
and what were his intentions. Leaving my sister
at Branksome, and summoning Seth Jamieson,
an old man-o'-war's-man, and one of the stoutest
of the fishermen, I set off across the moor with
him through the gathering darkness.
“It hasna got a guid name after dark, yon
hoose,” remarked my companion, slackening his
pace perceptibly as I explained to him the nature
of our errand. "It's no for naething that him
wha owns it wunna gang within a Scotch mile o't.”
"Well, Seth, there is some one who has no fears
about going into it," said I, pointing to the great
white building which flickered up in front of us
through the gloom. The light which I had ob-
served from the sea was moving backward and
forward past the lower floor windows, the shut-
ters of which had been removed. I could now
see that a second fainter light followed a few paces


10
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
behind the other. Evidently two individuals, the
one with a lamp and the other with a candle or
rushlight, were making a careful examination of
the building
“Let ilka man blaw his ain parritch,” said Seth
Jamieson doggedly, coming to a dead stop.
"What is it tae us if a wraith or a bogle chooses
tae tak' a fancy tae Cloomber? It's no canny tae
meddle wi' such things.”
"Why, man," I cried, "you don't suppose a
wraith came here in a gig! What are those lights
away yonder by the avenue gates?"
"The lamps o'a gig, sure enough!" exclaimed
my companion in a less lugubrious voice. "Let's
steer for it, Master West, and speer where she
hails frae."
By this time night had closed in save for a sin-
gle long, narrow slit in the westward. Stumbling
across the moor together, we made our way into
the Wigtown Road, at the point where the high
stone pillars mark the entrance to the Cloomber
A tall dog-cart stood in front of the
gateway, the horse browsing upon the thin bor-
der of grass which skirted the road.
"It's a' richt!" said Jamieson, taking a close look
at the deserted vehicle. "I ken it weel. It be-
longs tae Maister McNeil, the factor body frae
Wigtown-him who keeps the keys."
“Then we may as well have speech with him
now that we are here," I answered. “They are
avenue.


A TENANT COMES TO CLOOMBER.
11
coming down, if I am not mistaken.” As I spoke
we heard the slam of the heavy door, and within
a few minutes two figures, the one tall and angu-
lar, the other short and thick, came toward us
through the darkness. They were talking so ear-
nestly that they did not observe us until they had
passed through the avenue gate.
“Good evening, Mr. McNeil,” said I, stepping
forward and addressing the Wigtown factor, with
whom I had some slight acquaintance. The
smaller of the two turned his face toward me as
I spoke, and showed me that I was not mistaken
in his identity, but his taller companion sprang
back and showed every sign of violent agitation.
“What is this, McNeil?” I heard him say, in a
gasping, choking voice. "Is this your promise?
What is the meaning of it?"
"Don't be alarmed, general!
Don't be
alarmed!" said the little fat factor in a soothing
fashion, as one might speak to a frightened child.
“This is young Mr. Fothergill West, of Brank-
some, though what brings him up here to-night is
more than I can understand. However, as you are
to be neighbors, I can't do better than take the
opportunity to introduce you to each other. Mr.
West, this is General Heatherstone, who is about
to take a lease of Cloomber Hall."
I held out my hand to the tall man, who took
it in a hesitating, half-reluctant fashion. “I came
up," I explained, "because I saw your lights in


A TENANT COMES TO CLOOMBER.
13
"Deed, Mr. West, he seems, as he says himself,
to be vera nervous. Maybe his conscience is oot
o' order."
"His liver, more likely," said I. "He looks as
if he had tried his constitution a bit. But it's
blowing chill, Seth, my lad, and it's time both of
us were indoors." I bade my companion good
night, and struck off across the moors for the
cheery ruddy light which marked the parlor win-
dows of Branksome.
CHAPTER III.
OF OUR FURTHER ACQUAINTANCE WITH
MAJOR-GENERAL J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
There was, as may well be imagined, much stir
among our small community at the news that the
Hall was to be inhabited once more, and consid-
erable speculation as to the new tenants and their
objects in choosing this particular part of the
country for their residence. It speedily became
apparent that, whatever their motives might be,
they had definitely determined upon a lengthy
stay; for relays of plumbers and of joiners came
down from Wigtown, and there was hammering
and repairing going on from morning till night.
It was surprising how quick the signs of the wind


14
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
and weather were effaced, until the great square-
set house was all as spick-and-span as though it
had been erected yesterday. There were abundant
signs that money was no consideration to Gen-
eral Heatherstone, and that it was not on the
score of retrenchment that he had taken up his
abode among us.
"It may be that he is devoted to study," suggest-
ed my father, as we discussed the question at the
breakfast table. “Perhaps he has chosen this se-
cluded spot to finish some magnum opus upon
which he is engaged. If that is the case, I should
be happy to let liim have the run of my library.”
Esther and I laughed at the grandiloquent man-
ner in which he spoke of the two potato-sacks full
of books.
“It may be as you say,” said I, “but the general
did not strike me during our short interview as
being a man who was likely to have any very
pronounced literary tastes. If I might hazard a
guess, I should say that he is here upon medical
advice, in the hopes that the complete quiet and
the fresh air may restore his shattered nervous
system. If you had seen how he glared at me,
and the twitching of his fingers, you would have
thought it needed some restoring.”
"I do wonder whether he has a wife and a
family," said my sister. "Poor souls, how lonely
they will be! Why, excepting ourselves, there is
not a family that they could speak to for seven
miles and more.”


MAJOR-GENERAL J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
15
4
“General Heatherstone is a very distinguished
soldier,” remarked my father.
"Why, papa, however came you to know any-
thing about him?"
“Ah, my dears,” said my father, smiling at us
over his coffee-cup, "you were laughing at my
library just now, but you see it may be very use-
ful at times." As he spoke he took a red-covered
volume from a shelf and turned over the pages.
“This is an Indian army list of three years back,"
hne explained, "and here is the very gentleman we
want-'Heatherstone J. B., Commander of the
Bath,' my dears, and 'V. C., think of that, 'V.C.'-
'formerly colonel in the Indian Infantry, 41st
Bengal Foot, but now retired with the rank of
major-general.' In this other column is a record
of his services—'capture of Ghuznee and defense
of Jellalabad, Sobraon 1848, Indian mutiny and
reduction of Oudh. Five times mentioned in dis-
patches.' I think, my dears, that we have cause
to be proud of our new neighbor.”
"It doesn't mention there whether he is married
or not, I suppose?” asked Esther.
"No," said my father, wagging his white head)
with a keen appreciation of his own humor. "It
doesn't include that under the heading of 'daring
actions'—though it very well might, my dear, it
very well might."
All our doubts, however, upon this head were
very soon set at rest, for on the very day that the


16
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
repairing and the furnishing had been completed
I had occasion to ride into Wigtown, and I met
upon the way a carriage which was bearing Gen-
eral Heatherstone and his family to their new
home. An elderly lady, worn and sickly looking,
was by his side, and opposite him sat a young fel-
low about my own age and a girl who appeared to
be a couple of years younger. I raised my hat,
and was about to pass them, when the general
shouted to his coachman to pull up, and held out
his hand to me. I could see now in the daylight
that his face, although harsh and stern, was capa-
ble of assuming a not unkindly expression.
“How are you, Mr. Fothergill West?” he cried.
"I must apologize to you if I was a little brusque
the other night-you will excuse an old soldier
who has spent the best part of his life in harness.
All the same you must confess that you are rather
dark-skinned for a Scotchman."
“We have a Spanish strain in our blood," said
I, wondering at his recurrence to the topic.
“That would, of course, account for it,” he re-
marked. "My dear," to his wife, "allow me to
introduce Mr. Fothergill West to you. This is
my son and my daughter. We have come here
in search of rest, Mr. West-complete rest."
“And you could not possibly have come to a
better place," said I.
"Oh, you think so?" he answered; “I suppose
it is very quiet indeed, and very lonely. You


MAJOR-GENERAL J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
17
might walk through these country lanes at night,
I dare say, and never meet a soul, eh?''
"Well, there are not many about after dark,” I
said.
“And you are not much troubled with vagrants
or wandering beggars, eh? Not many tinkers or
tramps or rascally gypsies-no vermin of that
sort about?"
"I find it rather cold," said Mrs. Heatherstone,
drawing her thick sealskin mantle tighter round
her figure. "We are detaining Mr. West, too."
"So we are, my dear, so we are.
Drive on,
coachman. Good day, Mr. West.” The carriage
rattled away toward the hall, and I trotted
thoughtfully onward to the little county metrop-
olis.
As I passed up the High street Mr. McNeil
ran out from his office and beckoned to me to
stop. “Our new tenants have gone out,” he said.
"They drove over this morning."
“I met them on the way," I answered. As I
looked down at the little factor I could see that
his face was flushed and that he bore every ap-
pearance of having had an extra glass.
“Give me a real gentleman to do business with,”
he said, with a burst of laughter. “They under-
stands me and I understands them. What shall
I fill it up for? says the general, taking a blank
check out o' his pouch and laying it on the table.
'Two hundred,' says I, leaving a bit o' a margin
for my own time and trouble."


08
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
"I thought that the landlord paid you for that,”
I remarked.
“Aye, aye, but it's well to have a bit mar-
gin. He filled it up and threw it over to me as if
it had been an auld postage stamp. That's the way
business should be done between honest men-
though it wouldna' do if one was inclined to take
an advantage. Will ye not come in, Mr. West,
and have a taste o' my whisky?'
"No thank you,” said I, “I have business to do."
"Well, well, business is the chief thing. It's
well not to drink in the morning, too. For my
own part, except a drop before breakfast to give
me an appetite, and maybe a glass, or even twa,
afterwards to promote digestion, I never touch
spirits before noon. It may be that I'm over par-
ticular, but it's as well to be on the safe side.
What d'ye think o' the general, Mr. West?"
"Why, I have hardly had an opportunity of
judging," I answered.
Mr. McNeil tapped his forehead with his fore-
finger. “That's what I think o' him," he said, in
a confidential whisper. "He's gone, sir, in my
estimation. Now what would you consider to be
a proof o' madness, Mr. West?”
“Why, offering a blank check to a Wigtown
house-agent," said I.
“Ah, you're aye at your jokes. But between
oorsels now, if a man asked ye how many miles it
was frae a seaport, and whether ships come there


MAJOR-GENERAL J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
19
from the East, and whether there were tramps
on the road, and whether it was against the lease
for him to build a high wall round the grounds,
what would ye make of it, eh?"
"I should certainly think him eccentric,” said I.
“If every man had his due, he would find him-
sel' in a house with a high wall round the grounds,
and that without costing him a farthing," said the
agent.
"Where then?" I asked.
"Why, in the Wigtown County Lunatic Asy-
lum,” cried the little man, with a bubble of laugh-
ter, in the midst of which I rode on my way, leav-
ing him still chuckling over his own facetiousness.
The arrival of the new family at Cloomber Hall
had no perceptible effect in relieving the monot-
ony of our secluded district, for instead of enter-
ing into such simple pleasures as the country had
to offer, or interesting themselves, as we had
hoped, in our attempts to improve the lot of our
poor crofters and fisher-folk, they seemed to shun
all observation, and hardly ever to venture beyond
the avenue gates. We soon found, too, that the
factor's words as to the inclosing of the grounds
were founded upon fact, for gangs of workmen
were kept hard at work from early in the morn-
ing until late at night in erecting a high wooden
fence round the whole estate. When this was fin-
ished and topped with spikes Cloomber Park be-
came impregnable to any one but an exception-


20
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
ally daring climber. It was as if the old soldier
had been so imbued with military ideas that, like
my Uncle Toby, he could not refrain even in times
of peace from standing upon the defensive.
Stranger still, he had victualed the house as if
for a siege, for Begbie, the chief grocer of Wig-
town, told me himself that the general had sent
him an order for hundreds of dozens of every
imaginable potted meat and vegetable.
It may be imagined that all these incidents were
not allowed to pass without comment. Over the
whole country-side there was nothing but gossip
about the new tenants of Cloomber Hall and the
reasons which had led them to come among us.
The only hypothesis, however, which the bucolic
mind could evolve was that which had already
occurred to Mr. McNeil, the factor-namely, that
the old general and his family were one and all
afflicted with madness, or, as an alternative con-
clusion, that he had committed some heinous of-
fense and was endeavoring
to escape the conse-
quences of his misdeeds. These were both nat-
ural suppositions under the circumstances; but
neither of them appeared to commend itself as a
true explanation of the facts.
It is true that General Heatherstone's behavior
on the occasion of our first interview was such as
to suggest some suspicion of mental disease; but
no man could have been more reasonable or more
courteous than he had afterward shown himself


YOUNG MAN WITH A GRAY HEAD.
25
be more manly to face a danger than to fly from
it. However, he knows best, and it is impossible
for us to judge. But who is this?" she exclaimed,
anxiously peering up the dark avenue. "Oh, it is
my brother, Mordaunt. Mordaunt,” she said, as
the young man approached us, “I have been apol-
ogizing to Mr. West for what happened yesterday
in your name as well as my own.
"I am very glad to have the opportunity of
doing it in person,” said he courteously. “I only
wish that I could see your sister and your father
as well as yourself, to tell them how sorry I am.
I think you had better run up to the house, little
one, for it's getting near tiffin time. No don't
you go, Mr. West. I want to have a word with
you.
Miss Heatherstone waved her hand to me with
a bright smile, and tripped off up the avenue,
while her brother unbolted the gate, and, passing
through, closed it again, locking it upon the out-
side.
"I'll have a stroll down the road with you, if you
have no objection. Have a manilla." He drew a
couple of cheroots from his pocket and handed
one to me. “You'll find they are not bad,” he said.
"I became a connoisseur in tobacco when I was
in India. Are you lit? I hope I am not interfering
with your business in coming along with you."
"Not at all," I answered. "I am very glad to
have your company."


26
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
“I'll tell you a secret,” said my companion.
“This is the first time that I have been outside the
grounds since we have been down here."
“And your sister?”
"She has never been out either,” he answered.
"I have given the governor the slip to-day, but
he wouldn't half like it if he knew. It's a whim
of his that we should keep ourselves entirely to
ourselves. At least some people would call it a
whim: for my own part I have reason to believe
that he has solid grounds for all that he does-
though perhaps in this matter he may be a little
too exacting."
"You must surely find it very lonely," said I.
"Couldn't you manage to slip down at times and
have a smoke with me? That house over yonder
is Branksome."
"Indeed, you are very kind," he answered, with
sparkling eyes. "I should dearly like to run over
now and again. With the exception of Israel
Stakes, our old coachman and gardener, I have
not a soul that I can speak to.”
“And your sister, she must feel it even more,”
said I, thinking in my heart that my new acquaint-
ance made rather too much of his own troubles
and too little of those of his companion.
"Yes; poor Gabriel feels it, no doubt," he an-
swered carelessly; "but it's a more unnatural
thing for a young man of my age to be cooped
up in this way than for a woman. Look at me


28
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
your youth. Or perhaps it arises from a more
chronic cause-a constant gnawing anxiety. I
have known men as young as you whose hair
was as gray."
"Poor devils!" he muttered, "I pity them."
"If you can manage to slip down to Branksome
at times,” said I, “perhaps you could bring Miss
Heatherstone with you. I know that my father
and my sister would be delighted to see her, and
a change, if only for an hour or two, might do
her good."
“It would be rather hard for us both to get
away together," he answered. "However, if I see
a chance I shall bring her down. It might be
managed some afternoon, perhaps, for the old
man indulges in a siesta occasionally." We had
reached the head of the winding lane which
branches off from the highroad and leads up to the
laird's house, so my companion pulled up. "I
must go back," he said, “or they will miss me.
It's very kind of you, West, to take this interest
in us. I'm very grateful to you, and so will Ga-
briel be when she hears of your kind invitation.
It's a real heaping of coals of fire after that infer-
nal placard of my father's."
He shook my hand and set off down the road,
but he came running after me presently, calling
me to stop. "I was just thinking," he said, "that
you must consider us a great mystery up there at
Cloomber. I dare say you have come to look


YOUNG MAN WITH A GRAY HEAD.
29
upon it as a private lunatic asylum, and I can't
blame you. If you are interested in the matter,
I feel it is unfriendly upon my part not to satisfy
your curiosity, but I have promised my father to
be silent about it. And indeed if I were to tell
you all that I know you might not be very much
the wiser after all. I would have you understand
this, however—that my father is as sane as you
or I, and that he has very good reasons for liv-
ing the life which he does. I may add that his
wish to remain secluded does not arise from any
unworthy or dishonorable motives, but merely
from the instinct of self-preservation."
"He is in danger, then!" I ejaculated.
“Yes; he is in constant danger."
"But why does he not apply to the magistrates
for protection?" I asked. “If he is afraid of any
one, he has only to name him and they will bind
him over to keep the peace.”
"My dear West,” said young Heatherstone, "the
danger with which my father is threatened is one
that cannot be averted by any human interven-
tion. It is none the less very real, and possibly
very imminent."
"You don't mean to assert that it is supernatu-
ral," I said incredulously.
"Well, hardly that, either," he answered with
hesitation. "But, there," he continued, "I have
said rather more than I should, but I know that
you will not abuse my confidence. Good-by."


30
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
He took to his heels and was soon out of my sight,
round a curve in the country road.
A danger which was real and imminent, not to
be averted by human means and yet hardly super-
natural-here was a conundrum indeed! I had
come to look upon the inhabitants of the Hall
as mere eccentrics, but after what young Mor-
daunt Heatherstone had just told me, I could no
longer doubt that some dark and sinister mean-
ing underlay all their actions. The more I pon-
dered over the problem, the more unanswerable
did it appear, and yet I could not get the matter
out of my thoughts. The lonely isolated hall, and
the strange, impending catastrophe which hung
over its inmates, appealed forcibly to my imagina-
tion. All that evening, and late into the night, I
sat moodily by the fire, pondering over all that I
had heard, and revolving in my mind the various
incidents which might furnish me with some clue
to the mystery.
CHAPTER V.
HOW FOUR OF US CAME TO BE UNDER THE
SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
I trust that my readers will not set me down as
an inquisitive busybody when I say that as the
days and weeks went by I found my attention and


32
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
come a little walk with me?” I could see by her
manner that something had agitated or frightened
her.
"Why, bless the girl!” cried I, boisterously,
"what is the matter? The old Hall has not gone
on fire, surely? You look as grave as if all Wig-
town were in a blaze."
“Not quite so bad as that,” she said, smiling.
“But do come out, Jack. I should very much
like you to see it.”
I had always refrained from saying anything
which might alarm my sister, so that she knew
nothing of the interest which our neighbor's do-
ings had for me. At her request I took my hat
and followed her out into the darkness. She led
the way along a little footpath over the moor,
which brought us to some rising ground, from
which we could look down upon the Hall with-
out our view being obstructed by any of the fir-
trees which had been planted round it. “Look
at that,” said my sister, pausing at the summit of
this little eminence.
Cloomber lay beneath us in a blaze of light. In
the lower floors the shutters obscured the illumin-
ation, but above, from the broad windows of the
second story to the thin slits at the summit of the
tower, there was not a chink or an aperture which
did not send forth a stream of radiance. So daz-
zling was the effect that for a moment I was per-
suaded that the house was on fire, but the steadi-


UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
33
ness and clearness of the light soon freed me from
that apprehension. It was clearly the result of
many lamps placed systematically all over the
building. It added to the strange effect that all
these brilliantly illuminated rooms were ap-
parently untenanted, and some of them, as far as
we could judge, were not
even furnished.
Through the whole great house there was no sign
of movement or of life nothing but the clear,
unwinking flood of yellow light. I was still lost
in wonder at the sight when I heard a short, quick
sob at my side.
"What is it, Esther, dear?" I asked, looking
down at my companion.
"I feel so frightened. Oh, John, John, take me
home; I feel so frightened!” She clung to my
arm, and pulled at my coat in a perfect frenzy of
fear.
"It's all safe, darling," I said soothingly. “There
is nothing to fear. What has upset you so?"
"I am afraid of them, John; I am afraid of the
Heatherstones. Why is their house lit up like
this every night? I have heard from others that
it is always so. And why does the old man run
like a frightened hare if any one comes upon him.
There is something wrong about it, John, and it
frightens me."
I pacified her as well as I could, and led her
home with me, where I took care that she should
have some hot port negus before going to bed.


34
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
I avoided the subject of the Heatherstones for
fear of exciting her, and she did not recur to it of
her own accord. I was convinced, however, from
what I had heard from her that she had for some
time back been making her own observations up-
on our neighbors, and that in doing so she had
put a considerable strain upon her nerves. I could
see that the mere fact of the Hall being illumin-
ated at night was not enough to account for her
extreme agitation, and that it must have derived
its importance in her eyes from being one in a
chain of incidents, all of which had left a weird
or unpleasant impression upon her mind. That
was the conclusion which I came to at the time,
and I have reason to know now that I was right,
and that my sister had even more cause than I
had myself for believing that there was something
uncanny about the tenants of Cloomber.
Our interest in the matter may have arisen at
first from nothing higher than curiosity; but
events soon took a turn which associated us more
closely with the fortunes of the Heatherstone
family. Mordaunt had taken advantage of my
invitation to come down to the laird's house, and
on several occasions he brought with him his
beautiful sister. The four of us would wander
over the moors together; or, perhaps, if the day
were fine, set sail upon our little skiff and stand
off into the Irish Sea. On such excursions the
brother and sister would be as merry and as happy


UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
37
they were necessarily short, for the general's
movements were erratic, and no part of the
grounds was secure from his visitations.
How vividly one of these hurried meetings
rises before me! It stands out clear, peaceful, and
distinct amid the wild, mysterious incidents which
were destined to lead up to the terrible catastrophe
which has cast a shade over our lives. I can re-
member that as I walked through the fields the
grass was damp with the rain of the morning, and
the air was heavy with the smell of the fresh-turned
earth. Gabriel was waiting for me under the
hawthorn tree outside the gap, and we stood hand-
in-hand looking down at the long sweep of moor-
land, and at the broad blue channel which encir-
cled it with its fringe of foam. Far away in the
northwest the sun glinted upon the high peak of
Mount Throston. From where we stood we could
see the smoke of the steamers as they plowed
along the busy water-way which leads to Bel-
fast.
"Is it not magnificent?" Gabriel cried, clasping
her hands round my arm. "Ah, John, why are we
not free to sail away over these waves together,
and leave all our troubles behind us on the shore?"
"And what are the troubles which you would
leave behind you, dear one?" I asked. “May I
not know them, and help you to bear them?"
“I have no secrets from you, John,” she an-
swered. “Our chief trouble is, as you may guess,


38
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
our poor father's strange behavior. Is it not a
sad thing for all of us that a man who has played
such a distinguished part in the world should
skulk from one obscure corner of the country to
another, and should defend himself with locks
and barriers as though he were a common thief
flying from justice? This is a trouble, John,
which it is out of your power to alleviate."
"But why does he do it, Gabriel?" I asked.
"I cannot tell," she answered frankly. "I know
only that he imagines some deadly danger to be
hanging over his head, and that this danger was
incurred by him during his stay in India. What
its nature may be I have no more idea than you
have."
"Then your brother has," I remarked. “I am
sure from the way in which he spoke to me about
it one day that he knows what it is, and that he
it as real.”
"Yes, he knows, and so does my mother," she
answered; “but they have always kept it secret
from me. My poor father is very excited at pres-
ent. Day and night he is in an agony of appre-
hension, but it will soon be the 5th of October,
and after that he will be at peace.”
"How do you know that ?" I asked in surprise.
“By experience," said she gravely. "On the 5th
of October these fears of his come to a crisis. For
years back he has been in the habit of locking
Mordaunt and myself up in our rooms on that
looks upon


UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
39
date, so that we have no idea what occurs; but we
have always found that he has been much relieved
afterward, and has continued to be compara-
tively in peace until that day began to draw
round again.”
“Then you have only ten days or so to wait,” I
remarked, for September was drawing to a close.
"By the way, dearest, why is it that you light up
all your rooms at night?”
"You have noticed it, then?” she said. “It
comes also from my father's fears. He does not
like to have one dark corner in the whole house.
He walks about a good deal at night, and inspects
everything, from the attics right down to the cel-
lars. He has large lamps in every room and cor-
ridor, even the empty ones, and he orders the serv-
ants to light them all at dusk.”
“I am rather surprised that you manage to keep
your servants," I said, laughing. "The maids in
these parts are a superstitious class, and their
imaginations are easily excited by anything which
they don't understand."
"The cook and both housemaids are from Lon-
don, and are used to our ways.
We
pay
them on
a very high scale to make up for any inconven-
ience to which they may be put. Israel Stakes,
,
the coachman, is the only one who comes from this
part of the country, and he seems to be a stolid,
honest fellow, who is not easily scared."
"Poor little girl," I exclaimed, looking down at


THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
the slim, graceful figure by my side. “This is no
atmosphere for you to live in. Why will you not
let me rescue you from it? Why won't you
allow
me to go straight and ask the general for your
hand? At the worst he could only refuse."
She turned quite haggard and pale at the very
thought. “For God's sake, John," she cried ear-
nestly, "do nothing of the kind. He would whip
us all away in the dead of the night, and within
a week we should be settling down again in some
wilderness where we might never have a chance
of seeing or hearing from you again. Besides, he
never would forgive us for venturing out of the
grounds."
“I don't think that he is a hard-hearted man," I
remarked. “I have seen a kindly look in his eyes,
for all his stern face.”
"He can be the kindest of fathers," she an-
swered. "But he is terrible when opposed or
thwarted. You have never seen him so, and I
trust you never will. It was that strength of will
and impatience of opposition which made him
such a splendid officer. I assure you that in India
every one thought a great deal of him. The sol-
diers were afraid of him, but they would have
followed him anywhere."
"And had he these nervous attacks then?”
"Occasionally; but not nearly so acutely. He
seems to think that the danger-whatever it may
be becomes more imminent every year. Oh,


UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
41
John, it is terrible to be waiting like this with a
sword over our heads and all the more terrible
to me since I have no idea where the blow is to
come from.”
"Dear Gabriel," I said, taking her hand and
drawing her to my side, “look over all this pleas-
ant countryside and the broad blue sea. Is it not
all peaceful and beautiful? In these cottages, with
their red-tiled roofs peeping out from the gray
moor, there live none but simple, God-fearing
men, who toil hard at their crofts and bear enmity
to no man. Within seven miles of us is a large
town, with every civilized appliance for the pres-
ervation of order. Ten miles farther there is a
garrison quartered, and a telegram would at any
time bring down a company of soldiers. Now, I
ask you, dear, in the name of common sense, what
conceivable danger could threaten you in this se-
cluded neighborhood, with the means of help so
near? You assure me that the peril is not con-
nected with your father's health?”
“No, I am sure of that. It is true that Dr.
Easterling, of Stranraer, has been over to see him
once or twice, but that was merely for some small
indisposition. I can assure you that the danger
is not to be looked for in that direction.”
“Then I can assure you," said I, laughing, “that
there is no danger at all. It must be some strange
monomania or hallucination. No other hypothesis
will cover the facts.”


UNDER THE SHADOW OF CLOOMBER.
43
himself observed he stepped out and advanced
toward us, when I saw that it was none other
than the general himself. His beard was all
a-bristle with fury, and his deep-set eyes glowed
from under their heavily veined lids with a most
sinister and demoniacal brightness.
CHAPTER VI.
HOW I BECAME TO BE ENLISTED AS ONE OF
THE GARRISON OF CLOOMBER.
"To your room, girl!” he cried in a hoarse,
harsh voice, stepping in between us and pointing
authoritatively toward the house. He waited
until Gabriel, with a last frightened glance at me,
had passed through the gap, and then he turned
upon me with an expression so murderous that I
stepped back a pace or two, and tightened my
grasp upon my oak stick.
"You-you-" he sputtered, with his hand up
to his throat, as though his fury were choking
him. "You have dared to intrude upon my pri-
vacy! Do you think I built this fence that all the
vermin in the country might congregate round it!
Oh, you have been very near your death, my
fine fellow! You will never be nearer until your
time comes. Look at this!" He pulled a squat,


THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
thick pistol out of his bosom. "If you had passed
through that gap and set foot on my land I'd have
let daylight into you. I'll have no vagabonds
here! I know how to treat gentry of that sort,
whether their faces are black or white."
"Sir," said I, “I meant no harm by coming
here, and I do not know how I have deserved this
extraordinary outburst. Allow me to observe,
however, that you are still covering me with your
pistol, and that, as your hand is rather tremulous,
it is more than possible that it may go off. If you
don't turn the muzzle down I shall be compelled
in self-defense to strike you over the wrist with
my stick."
“What the devil brought you here, then?” he
asked in a more composed voice, putting his
weapon back into his bosom. "Can't a gentleman
live quietly without your coming to peep and
pry? Have you no business of your own to look
after, eh? And my daughter? how came you to
know anything of her? and what have you been
trying to squeeze out of her? It wasn't chance
that brought you here."
"No," said I, boldly, "it was not chance which
brought me here. I have had several opportuni-
ties of seeing your daughter and of appreciating
her many noble qualities. We are engaged to be
married to each other, and I came up with the ex-
press intention of seeing her.”
Instead of blazing into a fury, as I had ex-


THE GARRISON OF CLOOMBER.
47
no earthly peril which will drive me from Gabriel's
side. Let me know what it is and test me.”
"No, no. That would never do,” he answered
with a sigh, and then, thoughtfully, as if
speaking his mind aloud. “He has plenty of
pluck, and is a well-grown lad too. We might do
worse than make use of him.” He went on mum-
bling to himself with a vacant stare in his eyes
as if he had forgotten my presence.
“Look here, West,” he said presently. "You'll
excuse me if I spoke hastily a little time ago. It
is the second time that I have had occasion to
apologize to you for the same offense. It shan't
occur again. I am rather over particular, no
doubt, in my desire for complete isolation; but I
have good reasons for insisting on the point.
Rightly or wrongly, I have got it into my head
that some day there might be an organized raid
upon my grounds. If anything of the sort should
occur I suppose I might reckon upon your assist-
ance?"
"With all my heart."
“So that if ever you got a message such as
'Come up,' or even simply 'Cloomber!' you would
know that it was an appeal for help, and would
hurry up immediately, even if it were in the dead
of the night?"
"Most certainly I should," I answered. "But
might I ask you what the nature of the danger is
which you apprehend?"


48
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
“There would be nothing gained by your know-
ing. Indeed, you would hardly understand it if
I told you. I must bid you good day now, for I
have stayed with you too long. Remember, I
count upon you as one of the Cloomber gar-
rison now."
“One other thing, sir," I said, hurriedly, for he
was turning away; “I hope that you will not be
angry with your daughter for anything which I
have told you. It was for my sake that she kept
it all secret from you.”.
“All right," he said, with his cold, inscrutable
smile. “I am not such an ogre in the bosom of
my family as you seem to think. As to this mar-
riage question, I should advise you as a friend to
let it drop altogether, but if that is impossible I
must insist that it stand over completely for the
present. It is impossible to say what unexpected
turn events may take. Good-by!" He plunged
into the wood and was quickly out of sight among
the dense plantation.
Thus ended this extraordinary interview, in
which this strange man had begun by pointing a
loaded pistol at my breast and had ended by par-
tially acknowledging the possibility of my becom-
ing his future son-in-law. I hardly knew whether
to be cast down or elated over it. On the one
hand he was likely, by keeping a closer watch over
his daughter, to prevent us from communicating
as freely as we had done hitherto. Against this


THE GARRISON OF CLOOMBER.
49
there was the advantage of having obtained an im-
plied consent to the renewal of my suit at some
future date. On the whole, I came to the con-
clusion as I walked thoughtfully home that I had
improved my position by the incident.
But this danger—this shadowy, unspeakable
danger—which appeared to rise up at every turn,
and to hang day and night over the towers of
Cloomber! Rack my brain as I would I could
not conjure up any solution to the problem which
was not puerile and inadequate. One fact struck
me as being significant. Both the father and the
son had assured me, independently of each other,
that if I were told what the peril was, I would
hardly realize its significance. How strange and
bizarre must the fear be which can scarce be ex-
pressed in intelligible language. I held up my
hand in the darkness before I turned to sleep
that night, and I swore that no power of man or
devil should ever weaken my love for the woman
whose pure heart I had had the good fortune to
win.


50
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
CHAPTER VII.
OF CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AND HIS COMING
TO CLOOMBER.
In making this statement I have purposely
couched it in bald and simple language, for fear
I should be accused of coloring my narrative for
the sake of effect. If, however, I have told my
story with any approach to realism, the reader
will understand me when I say that by this time
the succession of dramatic incidents which had
occurred had arrested my attention and excited
my imagination to the exclusion of all .minor
topics. How could I plod through the dull routine
of an agent's work, or interest myself in the
thatch of this tenant's bothy or the sails of that
one's boat, when my mind was taken up by the
chain of events which I have described, and was
still busy seeking an explanation for them? Go
where I would over the countryside I could see
the square white tower shooting out from among
the trees, and beneath that tower this ill-fated fam-
ily were watching and waiting, waiting and watch-
ing—and for what? That was still the question
which stood like an impassable barrier at the end
of every train of thought. Regarded merely as
an abstract problem, this mystery of the Heather-


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
51
stone family had a lurid fascination about it, but
when the woman whom I loved a thousandfold
better than I did myself proved to be so deeply in-
terested in the solution, I felt that it was impos-
sible to turn my thoughts to anything else until
it had been finally cleared up.
My good father had received a letter from the
laird, dated from Naples, which told us that he
had derived much benefit from the change, and
that he had no intention of returning to Scotland
for some time. This was satisfactory to all of us,
for my father had found Branksome such an ex-
cellent place for study that it would have been a
sore trial to him to return to the noise and tumult
of a city. As to my dear sister and myself, there
were, as I have shown, stronger reasons still to
make us love the Wigtownshire moors.
In spite of my interview with the general-or
perhaps I might say on account of it-I took
occasion at ieast twice a day to walk toward
Cloomber and satisfy myself that all was well
there. He had begun by resenting my intrusion,
but he had ended by taking me into a sort of half
confidence, and even by asking my assistance, so
I felt that I stood upon a different footing with
him than I had done formerly, and that he was
less likely to be annoyed by my presence. Indeed,
I met him pacing around the inclosure a few days
afterward, and his manner toward me was civil,
though he made no allusion to our former con-


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
53
nearer to him I could see that he was a stranger,
and from his dusty clothes and dilapidated appear-
ance he seemed to have come from a distance.
He had a great hunch of bread on his knee and a
clasp knife in his hand, but he had apparently just
finished his breakfast, for he brushed the crumbs
off his lap and rose to his feet when he perceived
me. Noticing the great height of the fellow, and
that he still held his weapon, I kept well to the
other side of the road, for I knew that destitution
makes men desperate and that the chain that glit-
tered on my waistcoat might be too great a temp-
tation to him upon this lonely highway. I was con-
firmed in my fears when I saw him step out into
the center of the road and bar my progress.
“Well, my lad,” I said, affecting an ease which
I by no means felt, “what can I do for you this
morning?" The fellow's face was the color of
mahogany with exposure to the weather, and he
had a deep scar from the corner of his mouth to
his ear, which by no means improved his appear-
ance. His hair was grizzled, but his figure was
stalwart, and his fur cap was cocked on one side
so as to give him a rakish, semi-military appear-
ance. Altogether, he gave me the impression of
being one of the most dangerous types of tramp
that I had ever fallen in with.
Instead of replying to my question he eyed me
for some time in silence with sullen, yellow-shot
eyes, and then closed his knife with a loud snick.


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
55
I answered. “You would pass for a rich man
down here.”
"They are simple folk and they have simple
tastes,” said he, drawing a black pipe from his
pocket and stuffing it with tobacco. “I know what
good living is, and while I have a shilling in my
pocket I like to spend it as a shilling should be
spent. I've fought for my country and my coun-
try has done darned little for me. I'll go to the
Rooshians, so help me! I could show them how
to cross the Himalayas so that it would puzzle
either Afghans or British to stop 'em. What's
that secret worth in St. Petersburg, I wonder!"
"I'm ashamed to hear an old soldier speak so,
even in jest,” said I, sternly.
"Jest, indeed!” he cried, with a great oath. "I'd
have done it years ago, if the Rooshians had been
game to take it up. Skobeloff was the best of the
bunch, but he's been snuffed out. However, that's
neither here nor there. What I want to ask you is
whether you've ever heard anything in this quar-
ter of a man called Heatherstone, the same who
used to be colonel of the 41st Bengalees? They
cold me at Wigtown that he lived somewhere
down this way.”
"He lives in that large house over there," said
I, pointing to Cloomber Tower. “You'll find the
avenue gate a little way down the road, but the
general isn't over fond of visitors."
The last part of my speech was lost upon Cor-


56
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
poral Rufus Smith; for the instant that I pointed
out the gate he set off hopping down the road.
His mode of progression was the most singular
which I have ever seen, for he would only put his
right foot to the ground once in every half-dozen
strides, while he worked so hard and attained
such a momentum with the other limb that he
got over the ground at an astonishing speed. I
was so surprised that I stood in the roadway gaz-
ing after his hulking figure until the thought sud-
denly struck me that some serious result might
come from a meeting between a man of such
blunt speech and the choleric hot-headed general.
I therefore followed him as he hopped along like
some great clumsy bird, and overtook him at the
avenue gate, where he stood grasping the iron-
work and peering through at the dark carriage-
drive beyond.
"He's a sly old fox," he said, looking round at
me and nodding his head in the direction of the
Hall. "He's a deep old dog. And that's his bun-
galow, is it, among the trees?”
"That is his house," I answered; “but I should
advise you to keep a more civil tongue in your
head if you intend to speak with the general. He
is not a man to stand any nonsense.'
"Right you are. He was always a hard nut to
crack. But isn't this him coming down the ave-
nue?"
I looked through the gate and saw that it was


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
57
indeed the general, who having either seen us or
been attracted by our voices, was hurrying down
toward us. As he advanced he would stop from
time to time and peer at us through the dark
shadow thrown by the trees, as if he were irreso-
lute whether to come on or no.
"He's reconnoitering!" whispered my compan-
ion with a hoarse chuckle. “He's afraid—and I
know what he's afraid of. He won't be caught in a
trap if he can help it, the old un! Then suddenly
standing on his tiptoes and waving his hand
through the bars of the gate, he shouted at the top
of his voice, "Come on, my gallant commandant!
Come on! The coast's clear, and no enemy in
sight.”
This familiar address had the effect of reassur-
ing the general, for he came right for us, though
I could tell by his heightened color that his tem-
per was at boiling point. “What, you here, Mr.
West?” he said, as his eye fell upon me. "What is
it you want, and why have you brought this fel-
low with you?"
"I have not brought him with me, sir," I an-
swered, feeling rather disgusted at being made re-
sponsible for the presence of the disreputable-
looking vagabond beside me. “I found him on
the road here, and he desired to be directed to
you, so I showed him the way. I know nothing
of him myself."
"What do you want with me, then?" the gen-
eral asked sternly, turning to my companion.


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
59
“One word more, sir,” cried the tramp, for the
other was turing away; "I've been in the Terada
Pass.”
The old soldier sprang round as if the words
had been a pistol-shot. “What—what d'ye mean?"
he stammered.
"I've been in the Terada Pass, sir, and I knew
a man there called Ghoolab Shah.”
These last words were hissed out in an under-
tone, and a malicious grin overspread the face of
the speaker.
Their effect upon the general was extraordinary.
He fairly staggered back from the gateway, and
his yellow countenance blanched to a livid mottled
gray. For a moment he was too overcome to
speak. At last he gasped out, “Ghoolab Shah!
who are you who know Ghoolab Shah?”
“Take another look," said the tramp; “your
:ight is not as keen as it was forty years ago.”
The general took a long, earnest look at the
ignkempt wanderer in front of him, and as he
Bazed I saw the light of recognition spring up in
His eyes. "God bless my soul!” he cried. "Why,
It's Corporal Rufus Smith.”
"You've come on it at last," said the other,
chuckling to himself. "I was wondering how
long it would be before you knew me. And first
of all just unlock this gate, will you? It's hard
to talk through a grating. It's too much like ten
minutes with a visitor in the cells."


60
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
The general, whose face still bore evidences of
his agitation, undid the bolts with nervous, trem-
bling fingers. The recognition of Corporal
Rufus Smith had, I fancied, been a relief to him,
and yet he plainly showed by his manner that he
regarded his presence as by no means an unmixed
blessing
“Why, corporal,” he said, as the gate swung
open, “I have often wondered whether you were
dead or alive, but I never expected to see you
again. How have you been all these long years?"
"How have I been?" the corporal answered
gruffly. “Why I have been drunk for the most
part. When I draw my money I lay it out in
liquor, and as long as that lasts I get some peace
in life. When I'm cleaned out I go upon tramp,
partly in the hope of picking up the price of a
dram, and partly in order to look for you."
"You'll excuse us talking about these private
matters, West,” the general said, looking round
at me, for I was beginning to move away. “Don't
leave us. You know something of this matter al-
ready, and may find yourself entirely in the swim
with us some of these days."
Corporal Rufus Smith looked round at me in
blank astonishment. “In the swim with us!” he
said. "However did he get there?"
"Voluntarily, voluntarily," the general ex-
plained, hurriedly sinking his voice. "He is a
neighbor of mine, and he has volunteered his help
in case I should ever need it.”


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
61
This explanation seemed, if anything, to in-
crease the big stranger's surprise. "Well, if that
don't lick cock-fighting!” he exclaimed, contem-
plating me with admiration. “I never heard tell
of such a thing.”
"And now that you have found me, Corporal
Smith,” said the tenant of Cloomber, "what is it
that you want of me?"
“Why, everything: I want a roof to cover me,
and clothes to wear, and food to eat, and above
all brandy to drink.”
"Well, I'll take you in and do what I can for
you,” said the general slowly. “But look here,
Smith, we must have discipline. I'm the general
and you are the corporal; I am the master and you
are the man. Now, don't let me have to remind
you of that again."
The tramp drew himself up to his full height
and raised his right hand with the palm forward
an a military salute.
“I can take you on as gardener and get rid of
the fellow I have got. As to brandy, you shall
have an allowance and no more. We are not
deep drinkers at the Hall."
"Don't you take opium, or brandy, or nothing
yourself, sir?" asked Corporal Rufus Smith.
"Nothing," the general said, firmly.
"Well, all I can say is, that you've got more
nerve and pluck than I shall ever have. I don't
wonder now at your winning that cross in the


62
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
mutiny. If I was to go on listening night after
night to them things without ever taking a drop
of something to cheer my heart-why, it would
about drive me silly."
General Heatherstone put his hand up, as if
afraid that his companion might say too much.
"I must thank you, Mr. West,” he said, "for hav-
ing shown this man my door. I would not will-
ingly allow an old comrade, however humble, to
go to the bad, and if I did not acknowledge his
claim more readily it was simply because I had
my doubts as to whether he was really what he
represented himself. Just walk up to the Hall,
corporal, and I shall follow you in a minute."
"Poor devil!” he continued, as he watched the
newcomer hobbling up the avenue in the un-
gainly manner which I have described. "He got
a 64-pound shot on his foot, and it crushed the
bones, but the obstinate fool would not let the
doctors take it off. I remember him now as a
smart young soldier in Afghanistan. He and I
were associated in some queer adventures, which
I may tell you of some day, and I naturally feel
sympathy toward him, and would befriend him.
Did he tell you anything about me before I came?"
"Not a word," I replied.
"Oh,” said the general, carelessly, but with an
evident expression of relief. "I thought perhaps
he might have said something of old times. Well,
I must go and look after him, or the servants will


CORPORAL RUFUS SMITH AT CLOOMBER.
63
be frightened, for he isn't a beauty to look at.
Good-by!” With a wave of the hand the old
man turned away from me and hurried up the
drive after this unexpected addition to his house-
hold, while I strolled on round the high black
paling, peering through every chink between the
planks, but without seeing a trace either of Mor-
daunt or of his sister.
I have now brought this statement down to the
coming of Corporal Rufus Smith, which will
prove to be the beginning of the end. I have set
down soberly and in order the events which
brought us to Wigtownshire, the arrival of the
Heatherstones at Cloomber, the many strange in-
cidents which excited first our curiosity and finally
our intense interest in that family, and I have
briefly touched upon the circumstances which
brought my sister and myself into a closer and
more personal relationship with them. I think
that there cannot be a better moment than this to
hand the narrative over to those who had means
of knowing something of what was going on in-
side Cloomber during the months that I was ob-
serving it from without. The evidence of the
two individuals whose statements I shall now lay
before the reader, does not, it is true, amount to
very much, but there are a few notable facts con-
tained in it, and it corroborates and amplifies my
own experience. Israel Stakes, the coachman,
proved to be unable to read or write, but Mr.


64
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
Mathew Clark, the Presbyterian minister at
Stoneykirk, has copied down his deposition, duly
attested by the cross set opposite his name. The
good clergyman has, I fancy, put some slight pol-
ish upon the narrator's story, which I rather re-
gret, as it might have been more interesting, if
less intelligible, when reported verbatim. It still
preserves, however, considerable traces of Israel's
individuality, and may be regarded as an exact
record of what he saw and did while in General
Heatherstone's service.
CHAPTER VIII.
STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
(Copied and authenticated by the Reverend Mathew
Clark, Presbyterian Minister of Stoneykirk, in
Wigtownshire.)
Maister Fothergill West and the meenister say
that I maun tell all I can aboot General Heather-
stone and his hoose, but that I maunna' say
muckle aboot mysel because the readers wouldna'
care to hear aboot me or my affairs. I am na sae
sure o' that, for the Stakes is a family weel kenned
and respecked on baith sides o' the border, and
there's mony in Nithsdale and Annendale as
would be gey pleased to hear news o' the son o'


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
65
Archie Stakes, o’Ecclefechan. I maun e'en do as
I'm tauld, however, for Mr. West's sake, hoping
he'll no forget me when I chance to hae a favor
tae ask.* I'm no able tae write mysel' because
*The old rascal was well paid for his trouble, so he
need not have made such a favor of it.-J. F. W.
my feyther sent me oot to scare craws instead o'
sending me tae school, but on the ither hond he
brought me up in the preenciples and practice o’
the real kirk o' the Covenant, for which may che
Lord be praised!
It was last May twel'month that the factor body,
Maister McNeil, cam ower tae me in the street
and speered whether I was in want o' a place as
a coachman and gaird'ner. As it fell oot I chanced
tae be on the look oot for something o' the sort
mysel' at the time, but I wasna ower quick to let
him see that I wanted it. “Ye can tak it or leave
it,” says he sharplike. “It's a guid place, and
there's mony would be glad o't. If ye want it ye
can come up tae my office at twa the morn and
put your ain questions tae the gentleman." That
was a' I could get frae him, for he's a close man
and a hard one at a bargain—which shall profit
him leetle in the next life, though he lay by a store
o'siller in this. When the day comes there'll be
a hantle o' factors on the left hand o' the throne,
and I shouldna’ be surprised if Maister McNeil
found himsel' amang them.


66
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
Well, on the morn I gaed up to the office and
there I foond the factor and a lang thin dour man
wi'
gray
hair and a face as brown and crinkled as
a walnut. He looked hard at me wi' a pair o'een
that glowed like twa spunks, and then he says,
saye he, “You've been born in these pairts, I
understan'?"
"Aye,” says I, "and never left them neither."
“Never been oot o' Scotland?” he speers.
"Twice to Carlisle fair,” says I, for I am a man
wha loves the truth; and besides I kenned that
the factor would mind my gaeing there, for I bar-
gained for twa steers and a stirk that he wanted
for the stockin' o' the Drumcleugh fairm.
"I learn frae Maister McNeil,” says General
Heatherstone-for him it was and nane ither,
"that ye canna' write."
"Na," says
“Nor read?”
"Na," says I.
"It seems tae me,” says he, turnin' tae the fac-
tor, “that this is the vera man I want. Servants is
spoiled noo-a-days," says he, "by ower muckle
eddication. I have nae doobt, Stakes, that ye will
suit me well eneugh. Ye'll hae three pund a
month and a' foond, but I shall resairve the right
o'givin' ye twenty-four hoors' notice at any time.
How will that suit ye?"
"It's vera different frae my last place," says I,
discontented-like. And the words were true
I.


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
67
éneugh, for auld Fairmer Scott only gave me a
pund a month and parritch twice a day.
"Weel, weel,” says he, "maybe we'll gie ye a rise
if
ye suit. Meanwhile here's the hansel shillin'
that Maister McNeil tells me it's the custom tae
give, and I shall expec' tae see ye at Cloomber on
Monday.”
When the Monday cam roond I walked oot tae
Cloomber, and a great muckle hoose it is wi' a
hunderd windows or mair, and space eneugh tae
hide awa' half the parish. As tae gairdening there
was no gairden for me tae work at, and the horse
was never taken oot o' the stables frae week's end
tae week's end. I was busy eneugh for a' that, for
there was a deal o' fencing tae be put up
and one
thing or anither, forbye cleanin' the knives and
brushin' the boots and such like jobs as is mair fit
for an auld wife than for a grown man. There
was twa beside mysel' in the kitchen, the cook
Eliza, and Mary the hoosemaid, puir benighted
things baith o' them, wha had wasted a' their lives
in Lunnon, and kenned leetle aboot the warld or
the ways o'the flesh. I hadna' muckle tae say to
them for they were simple folk wha could scarce
understand English, and had hardly mair regard
for their ain souls than the tods on the moor.
When the cook said she didna' think muckle o
John Knox, and the ither that she wouldna' gie
saxpence tae hear the discourse o' Maister Donald
McSnaw o'the true kirk, I' kenned it was time for
me tae leave them tae a higher Judge.


68
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
There was four in family, the general, my leddy,
Maister Mordaunt and Miss Gabriel, and it
wasna' lang before I found that a' wasna' just
exactly as it should be. My leddy was as thin
and as white as a ghaist, and mony's the time as
I've come on her and found her yammerin' and
greetin' all by hersel'. I've watched her walkin?
up and doon in the wood where she thought nane
could see hier and wringin' her honds like one
demented. There was the young gentleman tae
and his sister--they baith seemed to hae some
trouble on their minds, and the general maist of
a', for the ithers were up ane day and down an-
ither; but he was aye the same, wi' a face as dour
and sad as a felon when he feels the tow roond
his neck. I speered o' the hussies in the kitchen
whether they kenned what was amiss wi' the fam-
ily, but the cook she answered me back that it
wasna' for her tae inquire into the affairs o' her
superiors and that it was naething to her as long
as she did her work and had her wages. They
were puir feckless bodies, the twa o'them, and
would scarce gie an answer tae a ceevil question
though they could clack lood eneugh when they
had a mind.
Weel, weeks passed into months and a' things
grew waur instead o’ better in the Hall. The gen-
eral he got mair nairvous, and his leddy mair
melancholy every day, and yet there wasna' any
quarrel or bickering between them, for when
they've been togither in the breakfast room I used


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
69
aften tae gang round and prune the rose tree
alongside o' the window, so that I couldna' help
hearin' a great pairt o' their conversation, though
sair against the grain. When the young folk were
wi' them they would speak little, but when they
had gone they would aye talk as if some waefu'
trial were aboot to fa' upon them, though I could
never gather from their words what it was that
they were afeard o'. I've heard the general say
mair than ance that he wasna' frighted o' death,
or of any danger that he could face and have done
wi', but that it was the lang weary waitin' and the
uncertainty that had taken a' the strength and the
mettle oot o' him. Then my leddy would console
him and tell him that maybe it wasna' as bad as
he thought and that a' would come richt in the
end—but a' her cheery words were clean throwed
away upon him. As tae the young folk I kenned
weel that they didna' bide in the groonds, and that
they were awa' whenever they got a chance wi'
Maister Fothergill West tae Branksome, but the
general was too fu' o' his ain troubles tae ken
aboot it, and it didna' seem tae me that it was pairt
o my duties either as coachman or as gaird'ner
tae mind the bairns. He should have lairned that
if ye forbid a lassie and a laddie to dae anything
it's just the surest way o'bringin' it aboot. The
Lord foond that oot in the gairden o' Paradise,
and there's no muckle change between the folk
in Eden and the folk in Wigtown.


70
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
There's ane thing that I havena' spoke aboot
yet, but that should be set doon. The general
didna' share his room wi' his wife, but slept a'
alane in a chamber at the far end o' the hoose, as
distant as possible frae every one else. This room
was aye lockit when he wasna' in it, and naebody
was ever allowed tae gang into it. He would mak
his ain bed, and red it up and dust it a' by himself,
but he wouldna' so much as allow ane o' us to set
fut on the passage that led tae it. At nicht he
would walk a' ower the hoose, and he had lamps
hung in every room and corner, so that no pairt
should be dark. Mony's the time frae my room
in the garret I've heard his futsteps comin' and
gangin', comin' and gangin' doun the passage and
up anither frae midnight till cockcraw. It was
weary wark to lie listenin' tae his clatter and won-
derin' whether he was clean daft, or whether may-
be he'd learned pagan and idolatrous tricks oot
in India, and that his conscience noo was like the
worm which gnaweth and dieth not. I'd ha'
speer frae him whether it wouldna' ease him to
speak wi' the holy Donald McSnaw, but it might
ha' been a mistake, and the general wasna' a man
that you'd care tae mak' a mistake wi'.
Ane day I was workin' at the grass border when
he comes up and he says, says he, “Did ye ever
have occasion tae fire a pistol, Israel?”
“Godsakes!” says I, “I never had siccan a thing
in my honds in my life.”


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
71
“Then you'd best not begin noo,” says he.
"Every man tae his ain weepon," he says. "Now
I' warrant ye could dae something wi' a guid crab-
tree cudgel!"
"Aye, could I," I answered blythely, "as weel as
ony lay on the border."
"This is a lonely hoose," says he, "and we might
be molested by some rascals. It's weel tae be
ready for whatever may come. Me and you and
my son Mordaunt and Mr. Fothergill West of
Branksome, who would come if he was required,
ought tae be able tae show a bauld face—what
think ye?"
“ 'Deed, sir," I says, "feastin' is aye better than
fechtin'—but if ye'll raise me a pund a month, I'll
no' shirk my share o'ither.'
"We won't quarrel ower that,” says he, and
agreed tae the extra twal' pund a year as easy as
though it were as many bawbees. Far be it frae
me tae think evil, but I couldna' help surmisin' at
the time that money that was so lightly pairted wi'
was maybe no very honestly cam by.
I'm no' a curious or a pryin' mun by nature,
but I was sair puzzled in my ain mind tae tell why
it was that the general walked aboot at nicht and
what kept him frae his sleep. Weel, a'e day I was
cleanin' down the passages when my e'e fell on a
great muckle heap o' curtains and auld cairpets
and sic' like things that were piled away in a cor-
ner, no vera frae the door o' the general's room.


72
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
A' o' a sudden a thocht cam intae my heid and I
says tae mysel', "Israel, laddie," says I, "what's
tae stop ye frae hidin' behind that this vera nicht
and seein' the auld mun when he doesna' ken hu-
man e'e is on him?" The mair I thocht o't the
mair seemple it appeared, and I made up my mind
tae put the idea intae instant execution.
When the nicht cam roond I tauld the women-
folk that I was bad wi' the jawache, and would
gang airly tae my room. I kenned fine when
ance I got there that there was na chance o' ony
one disturbin' me, so I waited a wee while, and
then when a' was quiet, I slippit aff my boots and
ran doun the ither stair until I cam tae the heap
o' auld clothes, and there I lay doun wi' one e'e
peepin' through a kink and a' the rest covered up
wi'a great ragged cairpet. There I bided as quiet
as a rotten until the general passed me on his road
tae bed, and a' was still in the hoose.
My certie! I wouldna' gang through wi' it again
for a' the siller at the Union Bank o' Dumfries! I
canna think o't noo without feelin' cauld a' the
way doun my back. It was just awfu' lyin' there
in the deid silence, waitin' and waitin' wi' never a
soond tae break the monotony, except the heavy
tickin' o' an auld clock somewhere doun the pas-
sage. First I would look doun the corridor in the
one way, and syne I'd look doun in t'ither, but it
aye seemed to me as though there was something
coming up frae the side that I wasna' lookin' at.


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
73
I had a cauld sweat on my broo and my hairt was
beatin' twice tae ilka tick o' the clock, and what
feared me most of a' was that the dust frae the
curtains and things was aye gettin' doun into my
lungs and it was a' I could dae tae keep mysel'
frae coughin'. Godsakes! I wonder my hair
wasna' gray wi' a' that I went through! I
wouldna' dae it again to be made Lord Provost o'
Glasgie!
Weel, it may have been twa o'clock in the morn-
in' or maybe a little mair, and I was just thinkin'
that I wasna' tae see onything after a'—and I
wasna' very sorry neither—when all o' a sudden
a soond cam tae my ears clear and distinct through
the stillness o' the nicht. I've been asked afore
noo tae describe that soond, but I've aye foond
that it's no' vera easy tae gie a clear idea o't,
though it was unlike any other soond that ever I
hairkened tae. It was a shairp ringin' clang, like
what could be caused by flippin' the rim o' a wine
glass, but it was far higher and thinner than that
and had in it tae a kind o’splash, like the tingle
o'a rain drop intae a waterbutt. In my fear I sat
up amang my cairpets, like a puddock amang
gowan-leaves, and I listened wi' a' my ears. A'
was still again noo, except for the dull tickin' o'
the distant clock.
Suddenly the soond cam again, as clear, as
shrill, as shairp as ever, and this time the general
heard it, for I heard him gie a kind o' groan, as a


74
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
tired man might wha has been roosed oot o' his
sleep. He got up frae his bed, and I could make
oot a rustling noise, as though he were dressin'
himsel', and presently his footfa' as he begun tae
walk up and doun in his room. Mysakes! it
didna tak lang for me tae drap doun amang the
cairpets again and cover myseľ ower! There I
lay tremblin' in every limb, and sayin' as mony
prayers as I could mind, wi' my e'e still peepin'
through the keek-hole, and fixed upon the door
o' the general's room.
I heard the rattle o' the handle presently, and
the door swung slowly open. There was a licht
burnin' in the room beyond, an' I could just catch
a glimpse o' what seemed tae me like a row o'
swords stuck alang the side o' the wa', when the
general stepped oot and shut the door behind
him. He was dressed in a dressin' goon, wi' a
red smokin' cap on his heid, and a pair o' slippers
wi' the heels cut off and the taes turned up. For
a moment it cam into my heid that maybe he was
walkin' in his sleep, but as he cam toward me I
could see the glint o' the licht in his e'en, and his
face was a' twistin', like a man that's in sair distress
o'mind. On my conscience it gies me the shakes
noo when I think o' his tall figure and his yelley
face comin' sae solemn and silent doun the lang
lone passage. I haud my breath and lay close
watchin' him, but just as he cam tae where I was
my vera hairt stood still in my breast, for "ting!"


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
75
-lood and clear, within a yaird o' me cam the
ringin' clangin' soond that I had a-ready hairk-
ened tae. Where it cam frae is mair than I can
tell, or what was the cause o't. It might ha' been
that the general made it, but I was sair puzzled
tae tell hoo, for his honds were baith doun by his
side as he passed me. It cam frae his direction,
certainly, but it appeared tae me tae come frae
ower his heid; but it was siccan a thin, eerie, high-
pitched, uncanny kind o’soond that it wasna' easy
tae say just exactly where it did come frae. The
general tak nae heed o't, but walked on and was
soon oot o'sicht, and I didna' lose a minute in
creepin' oot frae my hidin' place and scamperin'
awa' back tae my room, and if a' the bogies in the
Red Sea were trapesin' up and doun the hale nicht
through, I wud never put my heid oot again tae
hae a glimpse o' them.
I didna' say a word tae anybody aboot what I'd
seen, but I made up my mind that I wudna' stay
muckle langer at Cloomber Ha'. Four pund a
month is a good wage, but it isna' eneugh tae pay
a man for the loss o' his peace o' mind, and maybe
the loss o' his soul as weel, for when the deil is
aboot ye canna' tell what sort o' a trap he may
lay for ye, and though they say that Providence is
stronger than him, it's maybe as wecl no to risk it.
It was clear tae me that the general and his hoose
were baith under some curse, and it was fit that
that curse should fa' on them that had earned it,


76
THE YSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
and no on a righteous Presbyterian, wha had ever
trod the narrow path. My hairt was sair for young
Miss Gabriel-for she was a bonnie and a win-
some lassie—but for a' that, I felt that my duty
was tae mysel' and that I should gang forth, even
as Lot ganged oot o' the wicked cities o' the plain.
That awiu'cling-clang was aye dingin' in my lugs,
and I couldna' bear to be alane in the passages for
fear o'hearin' it ance again. I only wanted a
chance or an excuse tae gie the general notice,
and tae gang back to some place where I could
see Christian folk, and have the kirk within a
stone-cast tae fa' back upon.
But it proved tae be ordained that instead o'my
saying the word, it should come frae the general
himsel'. It was a'e day aboot the end o' Septem-
ber, I was comin' oot o' the stable, after giein' its
oats tae the horse, when I seed a great muckle
loon come hoppin' on ane leg up the drive, mair
like a big, ill-faured craw than a man. When I
clapped my e'en on him I thocht that maybe this
was ane o' the rascals that the maister had been
speakin' aboot, so withoot mair ado I fetched oot
my bit stick with the intention o'trying it upon
the limmer's heid. He seed me comin' toward
him, and readin' my intention frae my look maybe,
or frae the stick in my hand, he pu'ed oot a lang
knife frae his pocket and swore wi' the most awfu’
oaths that if I didna' stan' back he'd be the death
o' me. Ma conscience, the words the chiel used


STATEMENT OF ISRAEL STAKES.
77
was eneugh tae mak' the hair stan' straight on
your heid! I wonder he wasna' struck deid where
he stood. We were still standin' opposite each
ither-he wi' his knife and me wi' the stick-
when the general he cam up the drive and foond
us. Tae my surprise he began tae talk tae the
stranger as if he'd kenned him a' his days.
"Put your knife in your pocket, corporal," says
he. "Your fears have turned your brain.”
“Blood and wounds!" says the other. "He'd ha'
turned my brain tae some purpose wi' that muckle
stick o' his if I hadna' drawn my snickersnee. You
shouldna' keep siccan an auld savage on your
premises."
The maister he frooned and looked black at
him as though he didna' relish advice comin' frae
such a source. Then turnin' tae me, “You won't
be wanted after to-day, Israel,” he says; "you have
been a guid servant and I ha' naething tae com-
plain of wi’ ye, but circumstances have arisen
which will cause me tae change my arrange-
ments." "Very guid, sir," says I. "You can go
this evening," says he, "and you shall have an
extra month's pay tae mak' up t’ye for this short
notice." Wi' that he went intae the hoose, fol-
lowed by the man that he ca’ed the corporal, and
frae that day tae this I have never clapped e'en
either on the ane or the ither. My money was
sent oot tae me in an envelope, and havin' said a
few pairtin' words tae the cook and the wench wi'


78
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
reference tae the wrath tae come and the treasure
that is richer than rubies, I shook the dust o'
Cloomber frae my feet for ever.
Maister Fothergill West says I maunna' express
an opeenion as tae what cam aboot afterward,
but maun confine myseľ tae what I saw mysel'.
Nae doobt he has his reasons for this—and far be
it frae me tae hint that they are no guid anes—but
I maun say this, that what happened didna' sur-
prise me. It was just as I expeckit, and so I said
tae Maister Donald McSnaw. I've tauld ye
a'
aboot it noo and I havena' a word tae add or tae
withdraw. I'm muckle obleeged tae Maister
Mathew Clark for puttin' it a' doun in writin'
for me, and if there's ony would wish tae speer
onything mair o' me I'm well kenned and re-
speckit in Ecclefechan, and Maister McNeil, the
factor o' Wigtown, can aye tell where I am tae be
foond.
CHAPTER IX.
NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING, F. R. C. P.
EDIN.
Having given the statement of Israel Stakes in
extensor, I shall now append a short memorandum
from Dr. Easterling, now practicing at Stranraer.
It is true that the doctor was only once within


NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING.
79
the walls of Cloomber during its tenancy by Gen-
eral Heatherstone, but there were some circum-
stances connected with this visit which made it val-
uable, especially when considered as a supple-
ment to the experiences which I have just sub-
mitted to the reader. The doctor has found time
amid the calls of a busy country practice to jot
down his recollections, and I feel that I cannot do
better than subjoin them exactly as they stand.
I have very much pleasure in furnishing Mr.
Fothergill West with an account of my solitary
visit to Cloomber Hall, not only on account of the
esteem which I have formed for that gentleman
ever since his residence at Branksome, but also
because it is my conviction that the facts in the
case of General Heatherstone are of such a sin-
gular nature that it is of the highest importance
that they should be placed before the public in a
trustworthy manner.
It was about the beginning of September of the
year before last that I received a note from Mrs.
Heatherstone, of Cloomber Hall, desiring me to
make a professional call upon her husband, whose
health, she said, had been for some time in a very
unsatisfactory state. I had heard something of
the Heatherstones and of the strange seclusion in
which they lived, so that I was very much pleased
at this opportunity of making their closer acquaint-
ance, and lost no time in complying with her re-


80
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
quest. I had known the Hall in the old days of
Mr. McVittie, the original proprietor, and I was
astonished on arriving at the avenue gate to ob-
serve the changes which had taken place. The
gate itself, which used to yawn so hospitably upon
the road, was now barred and locked, and a high
wooden fence with nails upon the top encircled
the whole grounds. The drive itself was leaf-
strewn and uncared for, and the whole place had
a depressing air of neglect and decay.
I had to knock twice before a servant maid
opened the door and showed me through a dingy
hall into a small room, where sat an elderly, care-
worn lady, who introduced herself as Mrs. Heath-
erstone. With her pale face, her gray hair, her
sad, colorless eyes and her faded silk dress, she
was in perfect keeping with her melancholy sur-
roundings.
"You find us in much trouble, doctor," she said
in a quiet, refined voice. "My poor husband has
had a great deal to worry him, and his nervous
system for a long time has been in a very weak
state. We came to this part of the country in the
hope that the bracing air and the quiet would
have a good effect upon him. Instead of improv-
ing, however, he has seemed to grow weaker, and
this morning he is in a high fever and a little in-
clined to be delirious. The children and I were
so frightened that we sent for you at once. If
you will follow me I will take you to the general's
bedroom.”


NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING.
81
She led the way down a series of corridors to
the chamber of the sick man, which was situated
in the extreme wing of the building. It was a
carpetless, bleak-looking room, scantily furnished
with a small truckle bed, a campaigning chair,
and a plain deal table, on which were scattered
numerous papers and books. In the center of this
table there stood a large object of irregular out-
line, which was covered over with a sheet of linen.
All round the walls and in the corners were ar-
ranged a very choice and varied collection of
arms, principally swords, some of which were of
the straight pattern in common use in the British
army, while among the others were scimitars, tul-
wars, cuchurries, and a score of other specimens
of Oriental workmanship. Many of these were
richly mounted with inlaid sheaths and hilts
sparkling with precious stones, so that there was
a piquant contrast between the simplicity of the
apartment and the wealth which glittered on the
walls. I had little time, however, to observe the
general's collection, since the general himself lay
upon his couch and was evidently in sore need
of my services.
He was lying with his head turned half away
from us, breathing heavily, and apparently un-
conscious of our presence. His bright, staring
eyes and the deep hectic flush upon his cheek
showed that his fever was at its height. I ad-
vanced to the bedside, and, stooping over him, I


82
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
placed my fingers upon his pulse, when immedi-
ately he sprang up into the sitting position and
struck at me frenziedly with his clenched hands.
I have never seen such intensity of fear and hor-
ror stamped upon a human face as appeared upon
that which was now glaring up at me.
"Bloodhound!” he yelled; "let me go—let me
go, I say! Keep your hands off me. Is it not
enough that my life has been ruined? When is it
all to end? How long am I to endure it?"
"Hush, dear, hush!" said his wife in a soothing
voice, passing her cool hand over his heated fore-
head. "This is Doctor Easterling, from Stranraer.
He has not come to harm you, but to do you
good."
The general dropped wearily back upon his pil-
low, and I could see by the changed expression of
his face that the delirium had left him, and that
he understood what had been said. I slipped my
clinical thermometer into his armpit and counted
his pulse rate. It amounted to 120 per minute,
and his temperature proved to be 104 degrees.
Clearly it was a case of remittent fever, such as
occurs in men who have spent a great part of
their lives in the tropics. “There is no danger," I
remarked. “With a little quinine and arsenic we
shall very soon overcome the attack and restore
his health.”
"No danger, eh?" he said. “There never is any
'danger for me. I am as hard to kill as the Wan-
A


NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING.
83
dering Jew. I am quite clear in the head now,
Mary; so you may leave me with the doctor."
Mrs. Heatherstone left the room-rather unwill-
ingly, as I thought-and I sat down by the bed-
side to listen to anything which my patient might
have to communicate.
“I want you to examine my liver," he said,
when the door was closed. "I used to have an
abscess there, and Brodie, the staff surgeon, said
that it was ten to one that it would carry me off.
I have not felt much of it since I left the East.
This is where it used to be, just under the angle
of the ribs.”
"I can find the place," said I, after making a
careful examination; “but I am happy to tell you
that the abscess has either been entirely absorbed,
or has turned calcareous, as these solitary ab-
scesses will. There is no fear of its doing you any
harm now.”
He seemed to be by no means overjoyed at the
intelligence. "Things always happen so with me,”
he said moodily. "Now, if another fellow was
feverish and delirious he would surely be in some
danger; and yet you will tell me that I am in none.
Look at this, now." He bared his chest and
showed me a puckered wound over the region of
the heart. "That's where the Jezail buliet of a
hillman went in. You would think that was in the
right spot to settle a man; and yet wliat does it-
do but glance upon a rib, and go clean round and


84
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
out at the back, without so much as penetrating
what
you
medicos call the pleura. Did ever you
hear of such a thing?"
"You were certainly born under a lucky star," I
observed, with a smile.
"That's a matter of opinion," he answered, shak-
ing his head. “Death has no terrors for me, if it
will but come in some familiar form; but I confess
that the anticipation of some strange, some pre-
ternatural form of death is very terrible and un-
nerving.”
“You mean," said I, rather puzzled at his re-
mark, "that you would prefer a natural death to a
death by violence."
“No, I don't mean that exactly,” he answered.
"I am too familiar with cold steel and lead to be
afraid of either. Do you know anything about
odylic force, doctor?”
"No, I do not,” I replied, glancing sharply at
him to see if there were any signs of his delirium
returning. His expression was intelligent, how-
ever, and the feverish flush had faded from his
cheeks.
“Ah, you western scientific men are very much
behind the day in some things,” he remarked.
“In all that is material and conducive to the com-
fort of the body you are pre-eminent, but in what
concerns the subtle force of nature and the latent
powers of the human spirit your best men are
centuries behind the humblest coolies of India.


NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING.
85
Countless generations of beef-eating, comfort-lov-
ing ancestors have given our animal instincts the
command over our spiritual ones. The body,
which should have been a mere tool for the use
of the soul, has now become a degrading prison
in which it is confined. The Oriental soul and
body are not so welded together as ours are, and
there is far less wrench when they part in death.”
"They do not appear to derive much benefit
from this peculiarity in their organization,” I re-
marked, incredulously.
"Merely the benefit of superior knowledge," the
general answered. “If you were to go to India,
probably the very first thing you would see in the
way of amusement would be a native doing what
is called the mango trick. Of course you have
heard or read of it. The fellow plants a mango
seed, and makes passes over it until it sprouts and
bears leaves and fruit-all in the space of half an
hour. It is not really a trick—it is a power.
These men know more than your Tyndalls or
Huxleys do about nature's processes, and they
can accelerate or retard her workings by subtle
means of which we have no conception. These
low-caste conjurros-as they are called--are mere
vulgar dabblers, but the men who have trod the
higher path, the brethren of the Ragi-zog, are far
more our superiors in knowledge than we are of
the Hottentots or Patagonians.”
"You speak as if you were well acquainted with
them," I remarked.


86
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
"To my cost, I do," he answered. "I have been
brought in contact with them in a way in which
I trust no other poor devil ever will be. But,
really, as regards odylic force you ought to know
something of it, for it has a great future before it
in your profession. You should read Reichen-
bach's 'Researches on Magnetism and Vital
Force,' and Gregory's ‘Letters on Animal Magnet-
ism. These, supplemented by the twenty-seven
Aphorisms of Mesmer, and the works of Dr. Jus-
tinus Kerner, of Weinsberg, would enlarge your
ideas.”
I did not particularly relish having a course of
reading prescribed for me on a subject connected
with my own profession, so I made no comment,
but rose to take my departure. Before doing so I
felt his pulse once more, and found that the fever
had entirely left him, in the sudden unaccount-
able fashion which is peculiar to these malarious
types of disease. I turned my face toward him to
congratulate him upon his improvement, and
stretched out my hand at the same time to pick my
gloves from the table, with the result that I
raised not only my own property, but also the
linen cloth which was arranged over some object
in the center. I might not have noticed what I
had done had I not seen an angry
look
upon
the
invalid's face and heard him utter an impatient
exclamation. I at once turned, and replaced the
cloth so promptly that I should have been unable


NARRATIVE OF JOHN EASTERLING.
87
to say what was underneath it, beyond having a
general impression that it looked like a bride
cake.
“All right, doctor," the general said good hu-
moredly, perceiving how entirely accidental the
incident was. “There is no reason why you should
not see it," and stretching out his hand, he pulled
away the linen covering for the second time. I
then perceived that what I had taken for a bride
cake was really an admirably executed model of
a lofty range of mountains, whose snow-clad
peaks were not unlike the familiar sugar pinnacles
and minarets.
"These are the Himalayas, or at least the Sur-
inam branch of them," he remarked, “showing the
principal passes between India and Afghanistan.
It is an excellent model. This ground has a spe-
cial interest for me, because it is the scene of my
first campaign. There is the pass opposite Kala-
bagh and the Thul Valley, where I was engaged
during the summer of 1841 in protecting the con-
voys and keeping the Afridis in order. It wasn't
a sinecure I promise you."
"And this," said I, indicating a blood-red spot
which had been marked on one side of the pass
which he had pointed out—“this is the scene of
some fight in which you were engaged.”
"Yes, we had a skirmish there," he answered,
leaning forward and looking at the red mark.
"We were attacked by". At this moment he


90
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
September, and I find upon a comparison of dates
that Dr. Easterling's visit to Cloomber preceded
it by three weeks or more. During all this time
I was in sore distress of mind, for I had never
seen anything either of Gabriel or of her brother
since the interview in which the general had dis-
covered the communication which was kept up
between us. I had no doubt that some sort of re-
straint had been placed upon them; and the
thought that we had brought trouble on their
heads was a bitter one both to my sister and my-
self.
Our anxiety, however, was considerably miti-
gated by the receipt, a couple of days after my last
talk with the general, of a note from Mordaunt
Heatherstone. This was brought us by a little
ragged urchin, the son of one of the fishermen,
who informed us that it had been handed to him
at the avenue gate by an old woman-who, I
expect, must have been the Cloomber cook.
"My dearest friends," it ran, "Gabriel and I have
grieved to think how concerned you must be at
having neither heard from nor seen us. The fact
is that we are compelled to remain in the house.
And this compulsion is not physical but moral.
Our poor father, who gets more and more nerv-
ous every day, has entreated us to promise him
that we will not go out until after the 5th of Octo-
ber, and to allay his fears we have given him the
desired pledge. On the other hand, he has prom-


OF THE LETTER FROM THE HALL.
91
ised us that after the 5th—that is, in less than a
week—we shall be as free as air to come or go as
we please; so we have something to look forward
to. Gabriel says that she has explained to you
that the governor is always a changed man after
this particular date, on which his fears reach a
crisis. He apparently has more reason than usual
this year to anticipate that trouble is brewing for
this unfortunate family, for I have never known
him to take so many elaborate precautions or ap-
pear so thoroughly unnerved. Who would ever
think, to see his bent form and his shaking hands,
that he is the same man who used some few short
years ago to shoot tigers on foot among the
jungles of the Terai, and would laugh at the more
timid sportsmen who sought the protection of
their elephant's howdah? You know that he has
the Victoria Cross, which he won in the streets
of Delhi, and yet here he is shivering with terror
and starting at every noise, in the most peaceful
corner of the world. Oh, the pity of it, West!
Remember what I have already told you-that it
is no fanciful or imaginary peril, but one which
we have every reason to suppose to be most real.
It is, however, of such a nature that it can neither
be averted nor can it profitably be expressed in
words. If all goes well, you will see us at Brank-
some on the 6th. With our fondest love to both
of you, I am ever, my dear friends, your attached
Mondaunt."


92
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
This letter was a great relief to us as letting us
know that the brother and sister were under no
physical restraint; but our powerlessness and in-
ability even to comprehend what the danger was
which threatened those whom we had come to
love better than ourselves was little short of mad-
dening. Fifty times a day we asked ourselves and
asked each other from what possible quarter this
peril was to be expected; but the more we thought
of it the more hopeless did any solution appear.
In vain we combined our experiences and pieced
together every word which had fallen from the
lips of any inmate of Cloomber which might be
supposed to bear directly or indirectly upon the
subject. At last, weary with fruitless speculation,
we were fain to try and drive the matter from our
thoughts, consoling ourselves with the reflection
that in a few more days all restrictions would be
removed, and we should be able to learn from
our friends' own lips. Those few intervening
days, however, would, we feared, be dreary long
ones. And so they would, had it not been for a
new and most unexpected incident, which diverted
our minds from our own troubles and gave them
something fresh with which to occupy themselves.


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA,
93
CHAPTER XI.
OF THE CASTING AWAY OF THE BARK
“BELINDA.”
October had broken auspiciously with a bright
sun and a cloudless sky. There had in the morn-
ing been a slight breeze, and a few little white
wreaths of vapor drifted here and there like the
scattered feathers of some gigantic bird; but as
the day wore on, such wind as there was fell com-
pletely away, and the air became close and stag-
nant. The sun blazed down with a degree of heat
which was remarkable so late in the season, and
a shimmering haze lay upon the upland moors and
concealed the Irish mountains on the other side
of the Channel. The sea itself rose and fell in a
long, heavy, oily roll, sweeping slowly landward,
and breaking sullenly with a dull, monotonous
booming upon the rock-girt shore. To the inex-
perienced all seemed calm and peaceful, but to
those who are accustomed to read nature's warn-
ings there was a dark menace in air and sky and
sea.
My sister and I walked out in the afternoon,
sauntering slowly along the margin of the great
sandy spit which shoots out into the Irish Sea,
flanking upon one side the magnificent Bay of
Luce, and on the other the more obscure inlet of


94
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
Kirkmaiden, on the shores of which the Brank
some property is situated. It was too sultry to
go far; so we soon seated ourselves upon one of
the sandy hillocks, overgrown with faded grass-
tufts, which extend along the coast line, and which
form nature's dykes against the encroachments of
the ocean. Our rest was soon interrupted by the
scrunching of heavy boots upon the shingle; and
Jamieson, the old man-o'-war's-man whom I have
already had occasion to inention, made his ap-
pearance, with the flat circular net upon his back
which he used for shrimp catching. He came to-
ward us upon seeing us, and said in his rough,
kindly way that he hoped we would not take it
amiss if he sent us up a dish of shrimps for our
tea at Branksome. “I aye make a good catch be-
fore a storm,” he remarked.
“You think there is going to be a storm, then?”
I asked.
“Why, even a marine could see that,” he an-
swered, sticking a great wedge of tobacco into his
cheek. “The moors over near Cloomber are just
white wi' gulls and kittiewakes. What d'ye think
they come ashore for except to escape having all
the feathers blown out o' them? I mind a day
like this when I was wi' Charlie Napier off Cron-
stadt. It wellnigh blew us under the guns o' the
forts, for all our engines and propellers.”
"Have you ever known a wreck in these parts?"
I asked.


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
95
"Lord love ye, sir, it's a famous place for wrecks.
Why, in that very bay down there two o' King
Philip's first-rates foundered wi' all hands in the
days o' the Spanish war. If that sheet o' water
and the Bay o' Luce round the corner could tell
their ane tale they'd have a gey lot to speak of.
When the Jedgment Day comes round that water
will be just bubbling wi' the number o' folks that
will be coming up frae the bottom.”
"I trust that there will be no wrecks while we are
here,” said Esther earnestly.'
The old man shook his grizzled head and looked
distrustfully at the hazy horizon. “If it blows
from the west,” he said, “some o'these sailing ships
may find it no joke to be caught without sea room
in the North Channel. There's that bark but
there—I daresay her maister would be glad
enough to find himsel' safe in the Clyde.”
“She seems to be absolutely motionless." I re-
marked, looking at the vessel in question, whose
black hull and gleaming sails rose and fell slowly
with the throbbing of the giant pulse beneath her.
"Perhaps, Jamieson, we are wrong, and there will
be no storm after all.”
The old sailor chuckled to himself with an air
of superior knowledge, and shuffled away with his
shrimp net, while my sister and I walked slowly
homeward through the hot and stagnant air. I
went up to my father's study to see if the old gen-
tleman had any instructions as to the estate, for he


96
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
had become engrossed in a new work upon Ori-
ental literature, and the practical management of
the property had in consequence devolved entirely
upon me.
I found him seated at his square library table,
which was so heaped with books and papers that
nothing of him was visible from the door except
a tuft of white hair. “My dear son,” he said to me
as I entered, “it is a great grief to me that you
are not more conversant with Sanscrit. When I
was your age I could converse not only in that
noble language, but also in the Tamulic, Lohitic,
Gangelic, Taic, and Malaic dialects, which are all
offshoots from the Turanian branch."
“I regret extremely, sir," I answered, "that I
have not inherited your wonderful talents as a
polyglot."
"I have set myself a task,” he explained, “which,
if it could only be continued from generation to
generation in our own family until it was com-
pleted, would make the name of West immortal.
This is nothing less than to publish an English
translation of the Buddhist Djarmas with a pre-
face giving an idea of the position of Brahminism
before the coming of Sakyamuni. With diligence
it is possible that I might be able myself to com-
plete part of the preface before I die."
"And pray, sir," I asked, "how long would the
whole work be when it was finished?”
"The abridged edition in the Imperial Library


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
97
of Pekin," said my father, rubbing his hands to-
gether, “consists of 325 volumes of an average
weight of five pounds. Then the preface, which
must embrace some account of the Rig-veda, the
Sâma-veda, the Yagur-veda and the Atharva-
veda, with the Brahmanas, could hardly be com-
pleted in less than ten volumes. Now if we ap-
portion one volume to each year there is every
prospect of the family coming to an end of its task
about the date 2250, the twelfth generation com-
pleting the work, while the thirteenth might oc-
cupy itself upon the index.”
“And how are our descendants to live, sir," I
asked with a smile, “during the progress of this
great undertaking?"
"That's the worst of you, Jack," my father cried
petulantly. "There is nothing practical about you.
Instead of confining your attention to the working
out of my noble scheme, you begin raising all
sorts of absurd objections. It is a mere matter of
detail how our descendants live, so long as they
stick to the Djarmas. Now I want you to go up
to the bothy of Fergus McDonald and see about
the thatch, and Willie Fullerton has written to say
that his milk-cow is bad. You might look in upon
your way and ask after it."
I started off upon my errands, but before doing
so I took a look at the barometer upon the wall.
The mercury had sunk to the phenomenal point
of twenty-eight inches. Clearly the old sailor had


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
99
I opened the lattice window, but a gust of wind
and rain came blustering through, bearing with
it a great sheet of sea-weed, which flapped down
upon the table. It was all I could do to close it
again in the face of the blast. My sister and my
father had retired to their rooms, but my thoughts
were too active for sleep, so I continued to sit
and smoke by the smoldering fire. What was
going on in the Hall now, I wondered? What
did Gabriel think of the storm, and how did it af-
fect the old man who wandered about in the night?
Did he welcome these dread forces of nature as
being of the same order of things as his own
tumultuous thoughts? It was only four days now
from the date which I had been assured was to
mark a crisis in his fortunes. Would he regard
this sudden tempest as being in any way connected
with the mysterious fate which threatened him?
Over all these things and many more I pondered
as I sat by the glowing embers until they died
gradually out, and the chill night air warned me
that it was time to retire.
I may have slept a couple of hours when I was
awoke by some one tugging furiously at my
shoulder. Sitting up in bed, I saw by the dim
light that my father was standing half clad by my
bedside, and that it was his grasp which I felt on
my nightshirt.
“Get up, Jack, get up!” he was crying excitedly.
“There's a great ship ashore in the bay, and the


100
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
poor folk will all be drowned. Come down, my
boy, and let us see what we can do.” The good
old man seemed to be nearly beside himself with
excitement and impatience.
I sprang from my bed, and was huddling on a
few clothes, when a dull booming sound made
itself heard above the howling of the wind and the
thunder of the breakers.
“There it is again!" cried my father. “It is their
signal gun, poor creatures! Jamieson and the
fishermen are below. Put your oilskin coat on
and the Glengarry hat. Come, come, every sec-
ond may mean a human life!” We hurried down
together and made our way to the beach, accom-
panied by a dozen or so of the inhabitants of
Branksome.
The gale had increased rather than moderated,
and the wind screamed all round us with an in-
fernal clamor. So great was its force that we had
to put our shoulders against it, and bore our way
through it, while the sand and gravel tingled up
against our faces. There was just light enough
to make out the scudding clouds and the white
gleam of the breakers, but beyond that all was ab-
solute darkness. We stood ankle deep in the
shingle and seaweed, shading our eyes with our
hands and peering out into the inky obscurity. It
seemed to me as I listened that I could hear hu-
man voices loud in entreaty and terror, but amid
the wild turmoil of nature it was difficult to dis-
tinguish one sound from another. Suddenly,


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
101
however, a light glimmered in the heart of the
tempest, and next instant the beach and sea and
wide tossing bay were brilliantly illuminated by
the wild glare of a signal light.
She lay on her beam ends right in the center of
the terrible Hansel reef, hurled over to such an
angle that I could see all the planking of her deck.
I recognized her at once as being the same three-
masted bark which I had observed in the Channel
in the morning, and the Union Jack which was
nailed upside down to the jagged stump of her
mizzen proclaimed her nationality. Every spar
and rope and writhing piece of cordage showed
up hard and clear under the livid light which
sputtered and flickered from the highest portion
of the forecastle. Beyond the doomed ship out of
the great darkness came the long rolling lines of
black waves, never ending, never tiring, with a
petulant tuft of foam here and there upon their
crests. Each as it reached the broad circle of un-
natural light appeared to gather strength and vol-
ume and to hurry on more impetuously until with
a roar and a jarring crash it sprang upon its vic-
tim. Clinging to the weather shrouds we could
distinctly see ten or a dozen frightened seamen,
who when the light revealed our presence turned
their white faces toward us and waved their hands
imploringly. The poor wretches had evidently
taken fresh hope from our presence, though it was
clear that their own boats had either been washed
away or so damaged as to render them useless.


102
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
-
The sailors who clung to the rigging were not,
however, the only unfortunates aboard. On the
breaking poop there stood three men who ap-
peared to be both of a different race and nature
from the cowering wretches who implored our
assistance. Leaning upon the shattered taffrail
they seemed to be conversing together as quietly
and unconcernedly as though they were uncon-
scious of the deadly peril which surrounded them.
As the signal light flickered over them we could
see from the shore that these immutable strangers
wore red fezes, and that their faces were all of a
swarthy, large featured type, which proclaimed an
Eastern origin. There was little time, however,
for us to take note of such details. The ship was
breaking rapidly, and some effort must be made
to save the poor sodden group of humanity who
implored our assistance. The nearest lifeboat was
in the Bay of Luce, ten long miles away, but here
was our own broad, roomy craft
upon the shingle,
and plenty of brave fisher lads to form a crew.
Six of us sprang to the oars, the others pushed us
off, and we fought our way through the swirling,
raging waters, staggering and recoiling before the
great sweeping billows, but still steadily decreas-
ing the distance between the bark and ourselves.
It seemed, however, that our efforts were fated
to be in vain. As we mounted upon a surge
I
a giant wave, topping all the others, and coming
after them like a driver following a flock, sweep
down upon the vessel, curling her great green
saw


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
103
arch over the breaking deck. With a rending,
riving sound the ship split in two where the ter-
rible serrated back of the Hansel reef was sawing
into her keel. The afterpart with the broken miz-
zen and the three Orientals sank backward into
deep water and vanished, while the forehalf oscil-
lated helplessly about, retaining its precarious bal-
ance upon the rocks. A wail of fear went up from
the wreck and was echoed from the beach, but by
the blessing of Providence she kept afloat until
we made our way under her bowsprit and rescued
every man of the crew. We had not got half way
upon our return, however, when another great
wave swept the shattered forecastle off the reef,
and extinguishing the signal light, hid the wild
denouement from our view.
Our friends upon the shore were loud in con-
gratulation and praise, nor were they backward
in welcoming and comforting the castaways. They
were thirteen in all, as cold and cowed a set of
mortals as ever slipped through death's fingers,
save indeed their captain, who was a hardy, ro-
bust man, who made light of the affair. Some
were taken off to this cottage and some to that,
but the greater part came back to Branksome with
us, where we gave them such dry clothes as we
could lay our hands on, and served them with
beef and beer by the kitchen fire. The captain,
whose name was Meadows, compressed his bulky
form into a suit of my own, and came down to


104
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
the parlor, where he mixed himself some grog and
gave my father and myself an account of the dis-
aster.
“If it hadn't been for you, sir, and your brave
fellows,” he said, smiling across at me, "we should
be ten fathom deep by this time. As to the
'Belinda,' she was a leaky old tub and well in-
sured, so neither the owners nor I are likely to
break our hearts over her.”
"I am afraid," said my father sadly, "that we
shall never see your three passengers again. I
have left men upon the beach in case they should
be washed up, but I fear it is hopeless. I saw them
go down when the vessel split, and no man could
have lived for a moment among that terrible
surge."
“Who were they?" I asked. “I could not have
believed that it was possible for men to appear so
unconcerned in the face of such imminent peril.”
“As to who they are or were," the captain an-
swered, puffing thoughtfully at his pipe, “that is
by no means easy to say.
Our last port was
Kurrachee, in the north of India, and there we
took them aboard as passengers for Glasgow.
Ram Singh was the name of the younger, and it
is only with him that I have come in contact, but
they all appeared to be quiet, inoffensive gentle-
men. I never inquired their business, but I should
judge that they were Parsee merchants from Hy-
derabad whose trade took them to Europe. I


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
105
could never see why the crew should fear them,
and the mate, too; he should have had more
sense."
"Fear them!" I ejaculated, in surprise.
“Yes, they had some preposterous idea that
they were dangerous shipmates. I have no doubt
if you were to go down into the kitchen you would
find that they are all agreed that our passengers
were the cause of the whole disaster.”
As the captain was speaking the parlor door
opened and the mate of the bark, a tall, red-
bearded sailor, stepped in. He had obtained a
complete rig-out from some kind hearted fisher-
man, and looked in his comfortable jersey and
well greased sea boots a very favorable specimen
of a shipwrecked mariner. With a few words of
grateful acknowledgment of our hospitality he
drew a chair up to the fire and warmed his great
brown hands before the blaze.
“What d'ye think now, Captain Meadows," he
asked presently, glancing up at his superior of-
ficer. “Didn't I warn you what would be the up-
shot o' having those niggers on board the
'Belinda?'”
The captain leaned back in his chair and
laughed heartily. "Didn't I tell you?" he cried,
appealing to us. “Didn't I tell you?"
“It might have been no laughing matter for
us," the other remarked petulantly. “I have lost
a good sea kit and nearly lost my life into the bar-
gain.”


106
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
“Do I understand you to say," said I, "that you
attribute your misfortunes to your ill-fated pas-
sengers?"
The mate opened his eyes at the adjective.
"Why ill-fated, sir?" he asked.
"Because they are most certainly drowned," I
answered.
He sniffed incredulously and went on warming
his hands. “Men o'that kind are never drowned,"
he said, after a pause. “Their father, the devil,
looks after them. Did you see them standing on
the poop and rolling cigarettes at the time when
the mizzen was carried away and the quarter boats
stove? That was enough for me. I'm not sur-
prised at you landsmen not being able to take it
in, but the captain here, who's been sailing since
he was the height of the binnacle, ought to know
by this time that a cat and a priest are the worst
cargo you can carry. If a Christian priest is bad,
I guess an idolatrous pagan one is fifty times
worse. I stand by the old religion, and be d-d
to it!"
My father and I could not help laughing at the
rough sailor's very unorthodox way of proclaim-
ing his orthodoxy. The mate, however, was evi-
dently in deadly earnest, and proceeded to state
his case, marking off the different points upon the
rough red fingers of his left hand.
"It was at Kurrachee, directly after they come,
that I warned ye,” he said, reproachfully, to the
captain. “There was three Buddhist Lascars in


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
107
my watch, and what did they do when them chaps
come aboard? Why, they down on their stomachs
and rubbed their noses on the deck—that's what
they did. They wouldn't ha' done as much for an
admiral of the R’yal Navy. They know who's
who—these niggers do; and I smelled mischief
the moment I saw them on their faces. I asked
them afterward in your presence, captain, why
they had done it, and they answered that the pas-
sengers were holy men.
You heard 'em your-
self.”
"Well, there's no harm in that Hawkins," said
Captain Meadows.
"I don't know that," the mate said, doubtfully.
“The holiest Christian is the one that's nearest
God, but the holiest nigger is, in my opinion, the
one that's nearest the devil. Then you saw your-
self, Captain Meadows, how they went on during
the voyage, reading books that was writ on wood
instead o' paper, and sitting up right through the
night to jabber together on the quarter deck.
What did they want to have a chart o' their own
for and to mark the course of the vessel every
day?"
“They didn't," said the captain.
"Indeed they did, and if I did not tell you
sooner it was because you were always ready to
laugh at what I said about them. They had in-
struments o' their own—when they used them I
can't say—but every day at noon they worked
out the latitude and longitude, and marked out


108
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
the vessel's position on a chart that was pinned on
their cabin table. I saw them at it, and so did the
steward from his pantry.”
"Well, I don't see what you prove from that,'
the captain remarked, "though I confess it is a
strange thing."
"I'll tell you another strange thing," said the
mate, impressively. “Do you know the name o'
this bay in which we are cast away?"
“I have learned from our kind friends here that
we are upon the Wigtownshire coast," the cap-
tain answered, “but I have not heard the name of
the bay."
The mate leaned forward with a grave
face. "It
is the Bay of Kirkmaiden," he said.
If he expected to astonish Captain Meadows he
certainly succeeded, for that gentleman was fairly
bereft of speech for a minute or more. “That is
really marvelous," he said, after a time, turning to
us. “These passengers of ours cross-questioned
us early in the voyage as to the existence of a
bay of that name. Hawkins here and I denied all
knowledge of one, for on the chart it is included
in the Bay of Luce. That we should eventually
be blown into it and destroyed is an extraordinary
coincidence.”
"Too extraordinary to be a coincidence,"
growled the mate. "I saw them during the calm
yesterday morning, pointing to the land over our
starboard quarter. They knew well enough that
that was the port they were making for.”


CASTING AWAY OF THE BELINDA.
111
“I think," said I, with a yawn, "that you had
best let him sleep, and go to sleep yourself. You
can physic him in the morning if he needs it.”
So saying I stumbled off to my bedroom, and
throwing myself upon the couch was soon in a
dreamless slumber.
CHAPTER XII.
OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEAN UPON THE
COAST.
It must have been eleven or twelve o'clock be-
fore I woke up, and it seemed to me in the flood
of golden light which streamed into my chamber
that the wild tumultuous episodes of the night be-
fore must have formed part of some fantastic
dream. It was hard to believe that the gentle
breeze which whispered so softly among the ivy
leaves around my window was caused by the same
element which had shaken the very house a few
short hours before.
It was as if nature had re-
pented of her momentary passion and was en-
deavoring to make amends to an injured world
by its warmth and its sunshine. A chorus of birds
in the garden below filled the whole air with their
wonder and congratulations.
Down in the hall I found a number of the ship-


12
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
wrecked sailors, looking all the better for their
night's repose, who set up a buzz of pleasure and
gratitude upon seeing me. Arrangements, had
been made to drive them to Wigtown, whence
they were to proceed to Glasgow by the evening
train, and my father had given orders that each
should be served with a packet of sandwiches and
hard-boiled eggs to sustain him on the way. Cap-
tain Meadows thanked us warmly in the name of
his employers for the manner in which we had
treated them, and he called for three cheers from
his crew, which were very heartily given. He and
the mate walked down with us after we had
broken our fast to have a last look at the scene of
his disaster.
The great bosom of the bay was still heaving
convulsively, and its waves were breaking into
sobs against the rocks, but there was none of that
wild turmoil which we had seen in the early morn-
ing. The long emerald ridges, with their smart
little cockades of foam, rolled slowly and majes-
tically in, to break with a regular rhythm—the
panting of a tired monster. A cable length from
the shore we could see the mainmast of the bark
floating upon the waves, disappearing at times in
the trough of the sea, and then shooting up to-
ward heaven like a giant javelin, as the rollers
tossed it about. Other smaller pieces of wreckage
dotted the waters, while innumerable spars and
packages were littered over the sands. These were


OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEN.
113
-
being drawn up and collected in a place of safety
by gangs of peasants. I noticed that a couple of
broad-winged gulls were hovering and skimming
over the scene of the shipwreck as though many
strange things were visible to them beneath the
waves. At times we could hear their raucous
voices as they spoke to one another of what they
saw.
"She was a leaky old craft," said the captain,
looking sadly out to sea; “but there's always a feel-
ing of sorrow when we see the last of a ship we
have sailed in. Well, well, she would have been
broken up in any case, and sold for firewood.”
"It looks a peaceful scene,” I remarked. “Who
would imagine that three men lost their lives last
night in those very waters?”
"Poor fellows," said the captain, with feeling.
"Should they be cast up after our departure, I am
sure, Mr. West, that you will have them decently
interred.”
I was about to make some reply when the mate
burst into a loud guffaw, slapping his thigh and
choking with merriment. "If you want to bury
them," he said, "you had best look sharp, or they
may clear out o' the country. You remember
what I said last night. Just look at the top o'
that 'ere hillock, and tell me whether I was in the
right or not?"
There was a high sand dune some little distance
along the coast, and upon the summit of this the


114
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
figure was standing which had attracted the mate's
attention. The captain threw up his hands in as-
tonishment as his eyes rested upon it. “By the
eternal,” he shouted, “it's Ram Singh himself!
Let us overhaul him!" Taking to his heels in his
excitement he raced along the beach, followed
by the mate and myself, as well as by one or two
of the fishermen who had observed the presence
of the stranger. The latter, perceiving our ap-
proach, came down from his post of observation
and walked quietly in our direction, with his head
sunk upon his breast, like one who is absorbed
in thought.
I could not help contrasting our hurried and
tumultuous advance with the gravity and dignity
of this lonely Oriental, nor was the matter mended
when he raised a pair of steady, thoughtful dark
eyes and inclined his head in a graceful, sweep-
ing salutation. It seemed to me that we were like
a pack of schoolboys in the presence of a mas-
The stranger's broad, unruffled brow, his
clear, searching gaze, firm set yet sensitive mouth,
and clean cut, resolute expression, all combined
i to form the most imposing and noble presence
which I have ever known. I could not have
imagined that such imperturbable calm and at
the same time such a consciousness of latent
strength could have been expressed by any hu-
man face. He was dressed in a brown velveteen
coat, loose dark trousers, with a shirt which was


OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEN.
115
cut low in the collar, so as to show the muscular
brown neck, and he still wore the red fez which
I had noticed the night before. I observed with
a feeling of surprise, as we approached him, that
none of these garments showed the slightest in-
dication of the rough treatment and wetting
which they must have received during their wear-
er's submersion and struggle to the shore.
“So you are none the worse for your ducking,”
he said in a pleasant, musical voice, looking from
the captain to the mate. “I hope that all your
poor sailors have found pleasant quarters.”
“We are all safe,” the captain answered. “But
we had given you up for lost—you and your two
friends. Indeed, I was just making arrangements
for your burial with Mr. West here."
The stranger looked at me and smiled. “We
won't give Mr. West that trouble for a little time
yet," he remarked; “my friends and I came ashore
all safe, and we have found shelter in a hut a mile
or so down the coast. It is lonely down there,
but we have everything which we can desire."
"We start for Glasgow this afternoon," said the
captain; “I shall be very glad if you will come
with us. If you have not been in England be-
fore you may find it awkward traveling alone.”
“We are very much indebted to you for your
thoughtfulness,” Ram Singh answered; "but we
will not take advantage of your kind offer. Since
nature has driven us here we intend to have a
look about us before we leave.”


116
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
"As you like," the captain said, shrugging his
shoulders. “I don't think you are likely to find
wery much to interest you in this hole of a place.”
"Very possibly not,” Ram Singh answered with
an amused smile. "You remember Milton's lines:
"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of hell.'
I daresay we can spend a few days here comfort-
ably enough. Indeed, I think you must be wrong
in considering this to be a barbarous locality. I
am much mistaken if this young gentleman's
father is not Mr! John Hunter West, whose name
is known and honored by the pundits of India."
"My father is, indeed, a well-known Sanscrit
scholar," I answered, in astonishment.
“The presence of such a man,” observed the
stranger, slowly, “changes a wilderness into a city.
One great mind is surely a higher indication of
civilization than are incalculable leagues of bricks
and mortar. Your father is hardly as profound as
Sir William Jones, or as universal as the Baron
Von Hammer-Purgstall, but he combines many
of the virtues of each. You may tell him, how-
ever, from me that he is mistaken in the analogy
which he has traced between the Samoyede and
Tamulic word roots.”
"If you have determined to honor our neigh-
borhood by a short stay," said I, "you will offend
my father very much if you do not put up with


OF THE THREE FOREIGN MEN.
119
there's no saying how things may come out.
What d'ye think of him, Mr. West?"
"Why," said I, "I am very much interested in
him. What a magnificent head and bearing he
has for a young man. I suppose he cannot be
more than thirty."
“Forty,” said the mate.
"Sixty, if he is a day,” remarked Captain Mead-
ows. “Why, I have heard him talk quite famil-
iarly of the first Afghan war. He was a man then,
and that is close on forty years ago."
"Wonderful!" I ejaculated. "His skin is as
smooth and his eyes are as clear as mine are. He
is the superior priest of the three no doubt.”
"The inferior," said the captain confidently.
“That is why he does all the talking for them.
Their minds are too elevated to descend to mere
worldly chatter."
“They are the strangest pieces of flotsam and
jetsam that ever were thrown upon this coast,” I
remarked. “My father will be mightily interested
in them."
“Indeed, I think the less you have to do with
them the better for you,” said the mate. "If I
do command my own ship I'll promise you that I
never carry live stock of that sort on board of
her. But here we are all aboard and the anchor
tripped, so we must bid you good-by."
The waggonette had just finished loading up
when we arrived, and the chief places, on either


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
123
any effect
rest to compose you. I'll do what you suggest,
however, and our friends shall judge for them-
selves whether these poor devils should be sent
about their business or not.”
I made the promise to allay my sister's appre-
hensions, but in the bright sunlight of morning
it appeared little less than absurd to imagine that
our poor vegetarian castaways could have any
sinister intentions, or that their advent could have
upon
the tenants of Cloomber. I was
anxious myself, however, to see whether I could
see anything of the Heatherstones, so after break-
fast I walked up to the Hall. In their seclusion it
was impossible for them to have learned anything
of the recent events. I felt, therefore, that even
if I should meet the general he could hardly re-
gard me as an intruder while I had so much news
to communicate.
The place had the same dreary and melancholy
appearance which always characterized it. Look-
ing through between the thick iron bars of the
main gateway there was nothing to be seen of any
of the occupants. One of the great Scotch firs
had been blown down in the gale, and its long
ruddy trunk lay right across the grass-grown ave-
nue; but no attempt had been made to remove it.
Everything about the property had the same air
of desolation and neglect, with the solitary excep-
tion of the massive and impenetrable fencing,


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
125
The trousers had originally been white, but had
now faded to a dirty yellow. With a red sash
across his chest and a straight sword hanging
from his side he stood the living example of a
bygone type—the John Company's officer of forty
years ago.
He was followed by the ex-tramp,
Corporal Rufus Smith, now well clad and pros-
perous, who limped along beside his master, the
two pacing up and down the lawn absorbed in
conversation. I observed that from time to time
one or other of them would pause and glance
furtively all about them, as though guarding
keenly against a surprise.
I should have preferred communicating with
the general alone, but since there was no dis-
sociating him from his companion, I beat loudly
on the fencing with my stick to attract their
attention. They both faced round in a moment,
and I could see from their gestures that they were
disturbed and alarmed. I then elevated my stick
above the barrier to show them where the sound
proceeded from. At this the general began to
walk in my direction with the air of a man who
is bracing himself for an effort, but the other
caught him by the wrist and endeavored to dis-
suade him. It was only when I shouted out my
name and assured them that I was alone that I
could prevail upon them to approach. Once
assured of my identity the general ran eagerly
toward me and greeted me with the utmost
cordiality.


126
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
"This is truly kind of you, West,” he said. "It
is only at such times as these that one can judge
who is a friend and who not. It would not be
fair to you to ask you to come inside or to stay
any time, but I am none the less very glad to
see you."
“I have been anxious about you all,” I said;
"for it is some little time since I have seen or
heard from any of you. How have you all been
keeping?"
“Why, as well as could be expected. But we
will be better to-morrow-we will be different
men to-morrow, eh, corporal?"
"Yes, sir," said the corporal, raising his hand
to his forehead in a military salute. “We'll be
right as the bank to-morrow.
"The corporal and I are a little disturbed in
our minds just now," the general explained, “but
I have no doubt that all will come right. After
all, there is nothing higher than Providence, and
we are all in its hands. And how have you
been, eh?”
“We have been very busy for one thing,” said
I. “I suppose you have heard nothing of the
great shipwreck?"
"Not a word,” the general answered listlessly.
"I thought the noise of the wind would pre-
vent your hearing the signal guns. She came
ashore in the bay the night before last—a great
bark from India."


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
127
"From India!” ejaculated the general.
"Yes. Her crew were saved, fortunately, and
have all been sent on to Glasgow."
"All sent on!” cried the general, with a face
as bloodless as a corpse.
"All except three rather strange characters who
claim to be Buddhist priests. They have decided
to remain for a few days upon the coast.”
The words were hardly out of my mouth when
the general dropped upon his knees with his
long thin arms extended to heaven. "Thy will
be done!” he cried in a crackling voice. “Thy
blessed will be done!" I could see through the
crack that Corporal Rufus Smith's face had
turned to a sickly yellow shade, and that he was
wiping the perspiration from his brow.
"It's like my luck!” he said. “After all these
years, to come just when I have got a snug
billet.”
"Never mind, my lad,” the general said, rising,
and squaring his shoulders like a man who braces
himself for an effort. "Be it what it may, we'll
face it as British soldiers should. D’ye remem-
ber at Chillianwallah, when you had to run from
your guns to our square, and the Sikh horse
came thundering down on our bayonets? We
didn't flinch then, and we won't flinch now. It
seems to me that I feel better than I have done
for years. It was the uncertainty that was
killing me."


128
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
“And the infernal jingle-jangle,” said the cor-
poral. "Well, we'll all go together—that's some
consolation.”
"Good-by, West,” said the general. “Be a
good husband to Gabriel, and give my poor wife
a home. I don't think she will trouble you long.
Good-by! God bless you!"
“Look here, general," I said, peremptorily
breaking off a piece of wood to make communi-
cation more easy, “this sort of thing has been
going on too long. What are these hints and
allusions and innuendoes? It is time we had a
little plain speaking. What is it you fear? Out
with it! Are you in dread of these Hindoos?
If you are I am able, on my father's authority,
to have them arrested as rogues and vagabonds."
“No, no, that would never do,” he answered,
shaking his head. "You will learn about the
wretched business soon enough. Mordaunt
knows where to lay his hand upon the papers
bearing on the matter. You can consult him
about it to-morrow.”
“But surely,” I cried, “if the peril is so immi-
nent something may be done to avert it. If you
would but tell me what you fear I should know
how to act.”
"My dear friend," he said, "there is nothing
to be done, so calm yourself and let things take
their course. It has been folly on my part to
shelter myself behind mere barriers of wood and


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
129
stone. The fact is, that inaction was terrible to
me, and I felt that to do anything, however futile,
in the nature of a precaution, was better than
passive resignation. My humble friend here and
I have placed ourselves in a position in which, I
trust, no poor fellow will ever find himself again.
We can only recommend ourselves to the unfail-
ing goodness of the Almighty, and trust that
what we have endured in this world may lessen
our atonement in the world to come. I must
leave you now, for I have many papers to destroy
and much to arrange. Good-by.” He pushed
his hand through the hole which I had made and
grasped mine in a solemn farewell, after which
he walked back to the Hall with a firm and
decided step, still followed by the crippled cor-
poral.
I walked back to Branksome much disturbed
by this interview, and extremely puzzled as to
what course I should pursue. It was evident
now that my sister's suspicions were correct, and
that there was some very intimate connection
between the presence of the three Orientals and
the mysterious peril which hung over the towers
of Cloomber. It was difficult for me to associate
the noble-faced Ram Singh's gentle, refined man-
ner and words of wisdom with any deed of vio-
lence; yet now that I thought of it I could see
that a terrible capacity for wrath lay behind his
shaggy brows and dark, piercing eyes. I felt


130
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
that of all men whom I had ever met he was the
one whose displeasure I should least care to face.
But how could two men so widely dissociated
as the foul-mouthed old corporal of artillery and
the distinguished Anglo-Indian general have each
earned the ill-will of these strange castaways?
And if the danger was a positive physical one,
why should he not consent to my proposal to
have the three men placed under my custody?
though I confess it would have gone much
against my grain to act in so inhospitable a
manner upon such vague and shadowy grounds.
These questions were absolutely unanswerable;
and yet the solemn words and the terrible gravity
which I had seen in the faces of both the old
soldiers forbade me from thinking that their fears
were entirely unfounded. It was all a puzzle-
an absolutely insoluble puzzle. One thing at
least was clear to me and that was that in the
present state of my knowledge, and after the gen-
eral's distinct prohibition, it was impossible for
me to interfere in any way. I could only wait and
pray that, whatever the danger might be, it might
pass over, or at least that my dear Gabriel and
her brother might be protected against it.
I was walking down the lane lost in thought,
and had got as far as the wicket gate which opens
upon the Branksome lawn, when I was surprised
to hear my father's voice raised in most animated
and excited converse. The old man had been of


132
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
as deep a theoretical knowledge as that which has
made the name of John Hunter West a house-
hold word among Oriental scholars, I happen
to have given considerable attention to this one
point, and indeed I am in a position to say that
I know his views to be unsound. I assure you,
sir, that up to the year 700, or even later, San-
scrit was the ordinary language of the great bulk
of the inhabitants of India.”
“And I assure you, sir,” said my father warmly,
“that it was dead and forgotten at that date, save
by the learned, who used it as a vehicle for scien-
tific and religious works—just as Latin was used
in the middle ages long after it had ceased to be
spoken by any European nation."
"If you will consult the puranas you will find,”
said Ram Singh, “that this theory, though com-
monly received, is entirely untenable.”
"And if you will consult the Ramayana, and
more particularly the canonical books on Bud-
dhist discipline," cried my father, "you will find
that the theory is unassailable.'
“But look at the Kullavagga," said our visitor,
earnestly.
"And look at King Asoka,” shouted my father,
triumphantly. “When, in the year 300 before the
Christian era-before, mind you—he ordered the
laws of Buddha to be engraved upon the rocks,
what language did he employ, eh? Was it San-
scrit?-no! And why was it not Sanscrit?


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
135
past me as lightly as the breeze which whistled
round us. His face might be stern, and even
terrible; but I felt that he could never be unjust.
As I glanced from time to time at his noble
profile and the sweep of his jet black beard, his
rough-spun tweed traveling suit struck me with
an almost painful sense of incongruity, and I
re-clothed him in my imagination with the grand
sweeping Oriental costume which is the fitting
and proper frame for such a picture—the only
garb which does not detract from the dignity and
grace of the wearer. The place to which he led
me was a small fisher cottage which had been
deserted some years before by its tenant, but still
stood gaunt and bare, with the thatch partly
blown away and the windows and door in sad
disrepair. This dwelling, which the poorest
Scotch beggar would have shrunk from, was the
one which these singular men had preferred to
the proferred hospitality of the laird's house. A
small garden, now a mass of tangled brambles,
stood round it, and through this my acquaintance
picked his way to the ruined door. He glanced
into the house and then waved his hand for me to
follow him.
“You now have an opportunity,” he said in a
subdued, reverential voice, "of seeing a spectacle
which few Europeans have had the privilege of
beholding. Inside that cottage you will find two
Yogis—men who are only one remove from the


136
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
highest plane of adeptship. They are both
wrapped in an ecstatic trance, otherwise I should
not venture to obtrude your presence upon them.
Their astral bodies have departed from them, to
be present at the feast of lamps in the holy lamas-
tery of Rudok in Thibet. Tread lightly, lest by
stimulating their corporeal functions you recall
them before their devotions are completed.”
Walking slowly and on tiptoe, I picked my
way through the weed-grown garden, and peered
through the open doorway. There was no fur-
niture in the dreary interior, nor anything to
cover the uneven floor save a litter of fresh straw
in a corner. Among this straw two men were
crouching, the one small and wizened, the other
large-boned and gaunt, with their legs crossed
in Oriental fashion and their heads sunk upon
their breasts. Neither of them looked up nor
took the smallest notice of our presence. They
were so still and silent that they might have been
two bronze statues but for the slow and measured
rhythm of their breathing. Their faces, however,
had a peculiar ashen gray color, very different
from the healthy brown of my companion's; and
I observed, on stooping my head, that only the
whites of their eyes were visible, the balls being
turned upward beneath the lids. In front of
them upon a small mat lay an earthenware pitcher
of water and half a loaf of bread, together with
a sheet of paper inscribed with certain cabalistic


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
137
characters. Ram Singh glanced at these, and
then, motioning to me to withdraw, followed me
out into the garden.
"I am not to disturb them until ten o'clock,"
he said. “You have now seen in operation one
of the grandest results of our occult philosophy,
the dissociation of spirit from body. Not only
are the spirits of these holy men standing at the
present moment by the banks of the Ganges,
but those spirits are clothed in a material cover-
ing so identical with their real bodies that none
of the faithful will ever doubt that Lal Hoomi
and Mowdar Khan are actually among them.
This is accomplished by our power of resolving
an object into its chemical atoms, of conveying
these atoms with a speed which exceeds that of
lightning to any given spot, and of there re-pre-
cipitating them and compelling them to retake
their original form. Of old it was necessary to
convey the whole body in this way, but we have
since found that it was as easy and more con-
venient to transmit material enough merely to
build up an outside shell or semblance of a body.
This we have termed the astral body.”
“But if you can transmit your spirits so readily,"
I observed, "why should they be accompanied
by any body at all?”
“In communicating with brother initiates we
are able to employ our spirits only; but when
we wish to come in contact with ordinary man-


138
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
kind it is essential that we should appear in some
form which they can see and comprehend."
"You have interested me deeply in all that you
have told me," I said, grasping the hand which
Ram Singh had held out to me as a sign that
our interview was at an end. “I shall often
think of our short acquaintance."
"You will derive much benefit from it,” he said
slowly, still holding my hand and looking gravely
and sadly into my eyes. “You must remember
that what will happen in the future is not neces-
sarily bad because it does not fall in with your
preconceived ideas of right. Be not hasty in
your judgments. There are certain great rules
which must be carried out, at whatever cost to
individuals. Their operation may appear to you
to be harsh and cruel, but that is as nothing
compared to the dangerous precedent which
would be established by not enforcing them. The
ox and the sheep are safe from us, but the man
with the blood of the highest upon his hands
should not and shall not live.”
He threw up his arms at the last words with
a fierce, threatening gesture, and turning away
from me strode back to the ruined hut. I stood
gazing after him until he disappeared through
the doorway, and then started off for home,
revolving in my mind all that I had heard, and
more particularly this last outburst of the occult
philosopher. Far on the right I could see the


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
139
tall white tower of Cloomber standing out clear-
cut and sharp against a dark cloud-bank which
rose behind it. I thought how any traveler who
chanced to pass that way would envy in his heart
the tenant of that magnificent building, and how
little they would guess the strange terrors, the
nameless dangers, which were gathering about
his head. The black cloud-wrack was but the
image, I reflected, of the darker, more somber,
storm which was about to burst.
"Whatever it all means, and however it hap-
pens,” I ejaculated, “God grant that the innocent
be not confounded with the guilty."
My father, when I reached home, was still in
a ferment over his learned disputation with the
stranger. "I trust, Jack," he said, "that I did
not handle him too roughly. I should remember
that I am in loco magistri, and be less prone
to argue with my guests. Yet, when he took up
this most untenable position, I could not refrain
from attacking him and hurling him out of it,
which indeed I did, though you, who are ignorant
of the niceties of the question, may have failed
to perceive it. You observed, however, that my
reference to King Asoka's edicts was so conclu-
sive that he at once rose and took his leave.”
"You held your own bravely," I answered;
"but what is your impression of the man now
that
you
have seen him?"
“Why,” said my father, “he is one of those holy


140
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
men who under the various names of Sannasis,
Yogis, Sevras, Qualanders, Hakims, and Cufis
have devoted their lives to the study of the mys-
teries of the Buddhist faith. He is, I take it, a
theosophist, or worshiper of the God of knowl-
edge, the highest grade of which is the adept.
This man and his companions have not attained
this high position or they could not have crossed
the sea without contamination. It is probable
that they are all advanced chelas who hope in
time to attain to the supreme honor of adeptship.”
"But, father," interrupted my sister, "this does
not explain why men of such sanctity and attain-
ments should choose to take up their quarters
on the shores of a desolate Scotch bay.”
“Ah, there you get beyond me," my father
answered. “I may suggest, however, that it is
nobody's business but their own, as long as they
keep the peace and are amenable to the law of
the land."
"Have you ever heard," I asked, "that these
higher priests of whom you speak have powers
which are unknown to us?"
"Why, Eastern literature is full of it. The
Bible is an Eastern book, and is it not full of the
record of such powers from cover to cover? It
is unquestionable that they have in the past
known many of Nature's secrets which are lost
to us. I cannot say, however, that the modern
theosophists really possess the powers that they
claim.”


I SEE WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN BY FEW.
141
"Are they a vindictive class of people?" I asked.
"Is there any offense among them which can
only be expiated by death?”
"Not that I know of," my father answered,
raising his white eyebrows in surprise. "You
appear to be in an inquisitive humor this after-
noon-what is the object of all these questions?
Have our Eastern neighbors aroused your curi-
osity or suspicion in any way?"
I parried the question as best I might, for I
was unwilling to let the old man know what was
in my mind. No good purpose could come from
his enlightenment; his age and his health
demanded rest rather than anxiety; and indeed
with the best will in the world I should have
found it difficult to explain to another what was
so very obscure to myself. For every reason I
felt that it was best that he should be kept in the
dark,
Never in all my experience have I known a
day pass so slowly as did that eventful 5th of
October. In every possible manner I endeavored
to while away the tedious hours, and yet it seemed
as if darkness would never arrive I tried to
read, I tried to write, I paced about the lawn, I
walked to the end of the lane, I put new flies on
my fishing-hooks, I began to index my father's
library—in a dozen ways I endeavored to relieve
the suspense which was becoming intolerable.
My sister, I could see, was suffering from the


142
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
same feverish restlessness. Again and again our
good father remonstrated with us in his mild way
for our erratic behavior and the continual inter-
ruption of his work which arose from it. At
last, however, the tea was brought, and the tea
was taken, the curtains were drawn, the lamps
lit, and after another interminable interval the
prayers were read and the servants dismissed to
their rooms. My father compounded and swal-
lowed his nightly jorum of toddy, and then shuf-
fled off to his room, leaving the two of us in the
parlor with our nerves in a tingle and our minds
full of the most vague and yet terrible apprehen-
sions.
CHAPTER XIV.
OF THE VISITOR WHO RAN DOWN THE ROAD IN
THE NIGHT-TIME.
It was a quarter past ten o'clock by the parlor
time-piece when my father went off to his room,
and left Esther and myself together. We heard
his slow steps dying away up the creaking stair-
case, until the distant slamming of a door
announced that he had reached his sanctum. The
simple oil lamp upon the table threw a weird,
uncertain light over the old room, flickering upon
the carved oak paneling, and casting strange,


OF THE VISITOR IN THE NIGHT-TIME. 143
fantastic shadows from the high-elbowed, straight-
backed furniture. My sister's white, anxious face
stood out in the obscurity with a startling exact-
ness of profile like one of Rembrandt's portraits.
We sat opposite to each other on either side of
the table, with no sound breaking the silence
save the measured ticking of the clock and the
intermittent chirping of a cricket beneath the
grate. There was something awe-inspiring in the
absolute stillness. The whistling of a belated
peasant upon the highroad was a relief to us,
and we strained our ears to catch the last of his
notes as he plodded steadily homeward.
At first we had made some pretense-she of
knitting and I of reading; but we soon abandoned
the useless deception, and sat uneasily waiting,
starting and glancing at each other with ques-
tioning eyes whenever the faggot crackled in the
fire or a rat scampered behind the wainscot.
There was a heavy electrical feeling in the air,
which weighed us down with a foreboding of
disaster. I rose and flung the hall door open to
admit the fresh breeze of the night. Ragged
clouds swept across the sky, and the moon peeped
out at times between their hurrying fringes, bath-
ing the whole country-side in its cold, white
radiance. From where I stood in the doorway
I could see the edge of the Cloomber wood,
though the house itself was only visible from the
rising ground some little distance off. At my


144
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
sister s suggestion we walked together, she with
her shawl over her head, as far as the summit of
this elevation, and looked out in the direction of
the Hall. There was no illumination of the win-
dows to-night. From roof to basement not a
light twinkled in any part of the great building.
Its huge mass loomed up dark and sullen amid
the trees which surrounded it, looking more like
some giant sarcophagus than a human habita-
tion. To our overwrought nerves there was
something of terror in its mere bulk and its
silence. We stood for some little time peering
at it through the darkness, and then we made our
way back to the parlor again, where we sat wait-
ing-waiting, we knew not for what, and yet with
the absolute conviction that some terrible experi-
ence was in store for us.
It was twelye o'clock or close on to it when
my sister suddenly sprang to her feet and held
up her finger to bespeak attention. “Do you hear
nothing?" she asked.
I strained my ears, but without success.
“Come to the door," she cried, with a trembling
voice. "Now can you hear anything?"
In the deep silence of the night I distinctly
heard a dull, murmuring, clattering sound, con-
tinuous apparently, but very faint and low.
"What is it?" I asked in a subdued voice.
"It's the sound of a man running toward us,”
she answered; and then, suddenly dropping the


OF THE VISITOR IN THE NIGHT-TIME.
145
last semblance of self-command, she fell upon
her knees beside the table and began praying
aloud with that frenzied earnestness which in-
tense, overpowering fear can produce, breaking
off now and again into half-hysterical whimper-
ings.
I could distinguish the sound clearly enough
now to know that her quick feminine perception
had not deceived her, and that it was indeed
caused by a running man. On he came, and on
down the highroad, his footfalls ringing out
clearer and sharper every moment. An urgent
messenger he must be, for he neither paused nor
slackened his pace. The quick, crisp rattle was
changed suddenly to a dull, muffled murmur.
He had reached the point where sand had been
recently laid down for a hundred yards or so.
In a few moments, however, he was back on
hard ground again and his flying feet were nearer
and ever nearer. He must, I reflected, be abreast
of the head of the lane now. Would he hold on?
or would he turn down to Branksome? The
thought had hardly crossed my mind when I
heard by the difference of the sound that the
runner had turned the corner, and that his goal
was beyond all question the laird's house. Rush-
ing down to the gate of the lawn, I reached it
just as our visitor dashed it open and fell into my
arms. I could see in the moonlight that it was
none other than Mordaunt Heatherstone.


OF THE VISITOR IN THE NIGHT-TIME.
147
coring your father? Up, man! Let us follow
him. Tell me only what direction he took.”
“It's no use," young Heatherstone answered,
burying his face in his hands. “Don't reproach
me, West, for you don't know all the circum-
stances. What can we do to reverse the tremen-
dous and unknown laws which are acting against
us? The blow has long been hanging over us,
and now it has fallen. God help us!"
"In heaven's name tell me what has happened!”
said I excitedly. "We must not yield to despair.”
"We can do nothing until daybreak,” he
answered. "We shall then endeavor to obtain
some trace of them. It is hopeless at present."
"And how about Gabriel and Mrs. Heather-
stone?" I asked. “Can we not bring them down
from the Hall at once? Your poor sister must be
distracted with terror."
"She knows nothing of it," Mordaunt answered.
"She sleeps at the other side of the house, and
has not seen or heard anything. As to my poor
mother, she has expected some such event for
so long a time that it has not come upon her as a
surprise. She is, of course, overwhelmed with
grief, but would, I think, prefer to be left to her-
self for the present. Her firmness and composure
should be a lesson to me; but I am constitution-
ally excitable, and this catastrophe coming after
our long period of suspense deprived me of my
very reason for a time.”


148
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
"If we can do nothing until morning," I said,
"you have time to tell us all that has occurred.”
"I shall do so," he answered, rising and holding
his shaking hands to the fire. “You know already
that we have had reason for some time-for many
years, in fact—to fear that a terrible retribution
was hanging over my father's head for a certain
action of his early life. In this action he was asso-
ciated with the man known as Corporal Rufus
Smith; so that the fact of the latter finding his way
to my father was a warning to us that the time had
come, and that this 5th of October—the anniver-
sary of the misdeed-would be the day of its
atonement. I told you of our fears in my letter;
and if I am not mistaken, my father also had some
conversation with you, West, upon the subject.
When I saw yesterday morning that he had
hunted out the old uniform which he has always
retained since he wore it in the Afghan war, I was
sure that the end was at hand, and that our fore-
bodings would be realized.
“He appeared to be more composed in the
afternoon than I have seen him for years, and
spoke freely of his life in India and of the incidents
of his youth. About nine o'clock he requested
us to go to our own rooms, and locked us in there
-a precaution which he frequently took when the
dark fit was upon him. It was always his en-
deavor, poor soul, to keep us clear of the curse
which had fallen upon his own unfortunate head.


150
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
I had at last fallen into a troubled sleep when I
was suddenly aroused by a loud, sonorous sound
ringing in my ears. I sat up bewildered, but all
was silent again. The lamp was burning low, and
my watch showed me that it was going on to
midnight. I blundered to my feet, and was strik-
ing a match with the intention of lighting the can-
dles, when the sharp, vehement cry broke out
again so loud and so clear that it might have been
in the very room with me. My chamber is in the
front of the house, while those of my mother and
sister are at the back, so that I am the only one
who commands a view of the avenue. Rushing to
the window I drew the blind aside and looked
out. You know that the gravel drive opens up so
as to form a broad stretch immediately in front of
the house. Just in the center of this clear space
there stood three men looking up at the house.
The moon shone full upon them, glistening on
their upturned eyeballs, and by its light I could
see that they were swarthy-faced and black-haired,
of a type that I was familiar with among the Sikhs
and Afreedees. Two of them were thin, with
eager,
aesthetic countenances, while the third was king-
like and majestic, with a noble figure and flowing
beard."
“Ram Singh!" I ejaculated.
"What, you know them," exclaimed Mordaunt
in great surprise. “You have met them?”
“I know of them. They are Buddhist priests,”
I answered; “but go on.”


152
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
gone I could have believed that it was all some
terrible nightmare, some delusion, had I not felt
that the impression was too real, too vivid, to be
imputed to fancy. I threw my whole weight
against my bedroom door in the hope of forcing
the lock. It stood firm for a while, but I flung
myself upon it again and again, until something
snapped and I found myself in the passage. My
first thought was for my mother. I rushed to her
room and turned the key in her door.
The mo-
ment that I did so she stepped out into the cor-
ridor in her dressing-gown, and held up a warn-
ing finger.
“'No noise,' she said. "Gabriel is asleep. They
have been called away?'
“'They have,' I answered.
“'God's will be donel she cried. “Your poor
father will be happier in the next world than he
has ever been in this. Thank heaven that Gabriel
is asleep. I gave her chloral in her cocoa.'
“'What am I to do?' I said distractedly. 'Where
have they gone? How can I help him? We can-
not let him go from us like this, or leave these
men to do what they will with him. Shall I ride
into Wigtown and arouse the police?"
"Anything rather than that,' my niother said
earnestly. 'He has begged me again and again
to avoid it. My son, we shall never set eyes upon
your father again. You may marvel at my dry
eyes; but if you knew as I know the peace which


OF THE VISITOR IN THE NIGHT-TIME.
153
death would bring him, you could not find it in
your heart to mourn for him. All pursuit is, I feel,
vain; and yet some pursuit there must be. Let it
be as private as possible. We cannot serve him
better than by consulting his wishes.'
" 'But every minute is precious,' I cried. 'Even
now he may be calling upon us to rescue him from
the clutches of these dark-skinned fiends. The
thought so maddened me that I rushed out of the
house and down to the highroad, but once there
I had no indication in which direction to turn.
The whole wide moor lay before me, without a
sign of movement upon its broad expanse. I lis-
tened, but not a sound broke the perfect stillness
of the night. It was then, my dear friends, as I
stood, not knowing in which direction to turn,
that the horror and responsibility broke full upon
me. I felt that I was combating against forces
of which I knew nothing. All was strange and
dark and terrible. The thought of you, and of
the help which I might look for from your advice
and assistance, was a beacon of hope to me. At
Branksome, at least, I should receive sympathy,
and, above all, directions as to what I should do;
for my mind is in such a whirl that I cannot trust
my own judgment. My mother was content to
be alone, my sister asleep, and no prospect of be-
ing able to do anything until daybreak. Under
those circumstances what more natural than that
I should fly to you as fast as my feet would carry


154
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
me? You have a clear head, Jack; speak out, man,
and tell me what I should do. Esther, what
should I do?" He turned from one to the other
of us with outstretched hands and eager, question-
ing eyes.
“You can do nothing while the darkness lasts,"
I answered. “We must report the matter to the
Wigtown police; but we need not send our mes-
sage to them until we are actually starting upon
the search, so as to comply with the law and yet
have a private investigation, as your mother
wishes. John Fullarton, over the hill, has a
lurcher dog which is as good as a bloodhound.
If we set him on the general's trail he will run him
down if he had to follow him to John o' Groats."
"It is terrible to wait calmly here while he may
need our assistance."
"I fear our assistance could under any
circum-
stances do him little good. There are forces at
work here which are beyond human intervention.
Besides, there is no alternative. We have, appar-
ently, no possible clue as to the direction which
they have taken, and for us to wander aimlessly
over the moor in the darkness would be to waste
the strength which may be more profitably used
in the morning. It will be daylight by five o'clock.
In an hour or so we can walk over the hill to-
gether and get Fullarton's dog."
“Another hour!" Mordaunt groaned, "every
minute seems an age.”


156
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
have had occasion to talk of more than once, but
I refrained for your own sake. I knew by sad
experience how unsettling and unnerving it is to
be forever waiting for a catastrophe which you
are convinced must befall, and which you can
neither avert nor accelerate. Though it affects me
specially, as being the person most concerned, I
am still conscious that the natural sympathy which
I have observed in you, and your regard for
Gabriel's father, would both combine to render
you unhappy if you knew the hopelessness and
yet the vagueness of the fate which threatens me.
I feared to disturb your mind, and I was there-
fore silent, though at some cost to myself, for my
isolation has been not the least of the troubles
which have weighed me down. Many signs, how-
ever, and chief among them the presence of the
Buddhists
upon the coast as described by you this
morning, have convinced me that the weary wait-
ing is at last over and that the hour of retribution
is at hand. Why I should have been allowed to
live nearly forty years after my offense, is more
than I can understand, but it is possible that those
who had command over my fate know that such a
life is the greatest of all penalties to me. Never
for an hour, night or day, have they suffered me
to forget that they have marked me down as their
victim. Their accursed astral bell has been ring-
ing my knell for two score years, reminding me
ever that there is no spot upon earth where I can


OF THE VISITOR IN THE NIGHT-TIME.
157
hope to be in safety. Oh, the peace, the blessed
peace of dissolution! Come what may on the
other side of the tomb, I shall at least be quit of
that thrice terrible sound.
There is no need for me to enter into the
wretched business again, or to detail at any
length the events of the 5th of October, 1841, and
the various circumstances which led up to the
death of Ghoolab Shah, the arch adept. I have
torn a sheaf of leaves from my old journal, in
which you
will find a bald account of the matter,
and an independent narrative was furnished by
Sir Edward Elliott, of the Artillery, to the Star of
India some years ago in which, however, the
names were suppressed. I have reason to believe
that may people, even among those who knew
India well, thought that Sir Edward was romanc-
ing, and that he had evolved his incidents from
his imagination. The few faded leaves which I
send you will show you that this is not the case,
and that our men of science must recognize pow-
ers and laws which can and have been used by
man, but which are unknown to European civ-
ilization.
I do not wish to whine or to whimper, but I
cannot help feeling that I have had hard measure
dealt me in this world. I would not, God knows,
take the life of any man, far less an aged one, in
cold blood. My temper and nature, however, were
always fiery and headstrong, and in action when


158
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
my blood is up I have no knowledge of what I
am about. Neither the corporal nor I would have
laid a finger upon Ghoolab Shah had we not seen
that the tribesmen were rallying behind him.
Well, well; it is an old story now, and there is no
profit in discussing it. May no other poor fellow
ever have the same evil fortune!
I have written a short supplement to the state-
ments contained in my journal for your informa-
tion and that of any one else who may chance to
be interested in the matter. And now, adieu! Be
a good husband to Gabriel; and if your sister be
brave enough to marry into such a devil-ridden
family as ours by all means let her do so. I have
left enough to keep my poor wife in comfort.
When she rejoins me I should wish it to be equally
divided between the children. If you hear that
I am gone, do not pity, but congratulate
Your unfortunate friend,
John Berthier Heatherstone.
I threw aside the letter and picked up the roll
of blue foolscap which contained the solution of
the mystery. It was all ragged and frayed at the
inner edge, with traces of gum and thread still
adhering to it, to show that it had been torn out of
a strongly bound volume. The ink with which it
had been written had faded somewhat; but across
the head of the first page was inscribed in bold,
clear characters, evidently of later date than the
rest, “Journal of Lieutenant J. B. Heatherstone


160
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
many depôts in the country that Pollock and Nott
will have no difficulty in holding their own. They
shall not meet with the fate of Elphinstone's army,
One such tragedy is enough for a century.
Elliott, of the Artillery, and I, are answerable
for the safety of the communications for a dis-
tance of twenty miles or more, from the mouth of
the valley to this side of the wooden bridge over
the Lotar. Goodenough, of the Rifles, is respon-
sible on the other side; and Lieutenant-Colonel
Sidney Herbert, of the Engineers, has a general
supervision over both sections. Our force is not
strong enough for the work which has to be done.
I have a company and a half of our own regiment,
and a squadron of Sowars, who are of no use at
all among the rocks. Elliott has three guns, but
several of his men are down with cholera, and I
doubt if he has enough to serve more than two.
(Note: Capsicum for cholera--tried it.) On the
other hand each convoy is usually provided with
some guard of its own, though it is often absurdly
inefficient. These valleys and ravines which
branch out of the main pass are alive with Afree-
dees and Pathans, who are keen robbers as well
as religious fanatics. I wonder they don't swoop
down on some of our caravans. They could
plunder them and get back to their mountain
fastnesses before we could interfere or overtake
them. Nothing but fear will restrain them. If I
had my way I would hang one at the mouth of


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
161
every ravine as a warning to the gang. They are
personifications of the devil to look at, hawk-
nosed, full-lipped, with a mane of tangled hair,
and most Satanic sneer. No news to-day from the
front.
October 2.-I must really ask Herbert for an-
other company at the very least. I am convinced
that the communications would be cut off if any
serious attack were made upon us. Now, this
morning two urgent messages were sent me from
two different points more than sixteen miles apart,
to say that there were signs of a descent of the
tribes. Elliott, with one gun and the Sowars,
went to the farther ravine, while I, with the in-
fantry, hurried to the other; but we found it was a
false alarm. I saw no signs of the hillmen, and
though we were greeted by a sputter of jezail bul-
lets we were unable to capture any of the rascals.
Woe betide them if they fall into my hands! I
would give them as short a shift as ever a High-
land cateran got from a Glasgow judge. These
continued alarms may mean nothing or they may
be an indication that the hillmen are assembling
and have some plan in view.
We have had no news from the front for some
time, but to-day a convoy of wounded came
through with the intelligence that Nott had taken
Ghuznee. I hope he warmed up any of the black
rascals that fell into his hands. No word of Pol-
lock. An elephant battery came up from the Pun-


162
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
.
jaub, looking in a very good condition. There
were several convalescents with it going up to
rejoin their regiments. Knew none of them ex-
cept Mostyn of the Hussars and young Blakesley,
who was my fag at Charterhouse, and whom I
have never seen since. Punch and cigars al fresco
up to eleven o'clock. Letters to-day from
Wills & Co. about their little bill forwarded on
from Delhi. Thought a campaign freed a man
from these annoyances. Wills says in his note
that since his written applications have been in
.vain, he must call upon me in person. If he calls
upon me now he will assuredly be the boldest
and most persevering of tailors. A line from Cal-
cutta Daisy and another from Hobhouse to say
that Matilda comes in for all the money under the
will. I am glad of it.
October 3.—Glorious news from the front to-
day. Barclay, of the Madras Cavalry, galloped
through with dispatches. Pollock entered Cabul
triumphantly on the 16th of last month, and,
better still, Lady Sale has been rescued by Shakes-
pear, and brought safe into the British camp,
together with the other hostages. “Te Deum
laudamus!" This should end the whole wretched
business—this and the sack of the city. I hope
Pollock won't be squeamish, or truckle to the
hysterical party at home. The town should be
laid in ashes and the fields sown with salt. Above
all, the Residency and the Palace must come down.


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
163
So shall Burns, McNaghten, and many another
gallant fellow know that his countrymen could
avenge if they could not save him!
It is hard when others are gaining glory and
experience to be stuck in this miserable valley.
I have been out of it completely, bar a few petty
skirmishes. However, we may see some service
yet. A jemidar of ours brought in a hillman
to-day, who says that the tribes are massing in
the Terada ravine, ten miles to the north of us,
and intend attacking the next convoy. We can't
rely on information of this sort, but there :nay
prove to be some truth in it. Proposed to shoot
our informant, so as to prevent his playing the
double traitor and reporting our proceedings.
Elliott demurred. If you are making war you
should throw no chance away. I hate half-and-
half measures. The Children of Israel seem to
have been the only people who ever carried war
to its logical conclusion-except Cromwell in
Ireland-made a compromise at last by which
the man is to be detained as a prisoner and execu-
ted if his information proves to be false. I only
hope we get a fair chance of showing what we can
do. No doubt these fellows at the front will have
C. B.'s and knighthoods showering upon them
thick and fast, while we poor devils, who have had
most of the responsibility and anxiety, will be
passed over completely. Elliott has a whitlow.
The last convoy left us a large packet of sauces,


164
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
but as they forgot to leave anything to eat with
them, we have handed them over to the Sowars,
who drink them out of their pannikins as if they
were liquors. We hear that another large convoy
may be expected from the plains in the course
of a day or two. Took nine to four on Cleopatra
for the Calcutta Cup.
October 4.—The hillmen really mean business
this time, I think. We have had two of our spies
come in this morning with the same account about
the gathering in the Terada quarter. That old
rascal Zemaun is at the head of it, and I have rec-
ommended the Government to present him with
a telescope in return for his neutrality! There
will be no Zemaun to present it to if I can but
lay hands upon him. We expect the convoy to-
morrow morning, and need anticipate no attack
until it comes up, for these fellows fight for plun-
der, not for glory, though, to do them justice,
they have plenty of pluck when they get started.
I have devised an excellent plan, and it has Elli-
ott's hearty support. By jove! if we can only
manage it, it will be as pretty a ruse as ever I
heard of! Our intention is to give out that we
are going down the valley to meet the convoy
and to block the mouth of a pass from which we
profess to expect an attack. Very good. We
shall make a night march to-night and reach their
camp. Once there I shall conceal my two hun-
dred men in the wagons and travel up with the


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
165
convoy again. Our friends the enemy having
heard that we intended to go south, and seeing
the caravan going north without us, will naturally
swoop down upon it under the impression that
we are twenty miles away. We shall teach them
such a lesson that they would as soon think of
stopping a thunderbolt as of interfering again
with one of Her Britannic Majesty's provision
trains. I am all on thorns to be off.
Elliott has rigged up two of his guns so ingen-
iously that they look more like costermongers'
barrows than anything else. To see artillery ready
for action in the convoy might arouse suspicion.
The artillerymen will be in the wagons next the
guns, all ready to unlimber and open fire. Infan-
try in front and rear. Have told our confidential
and discreet Sepoy servants the plan which we
do not intend to adopt. N. B. If you wish a.
thing to be noised over a whole province always
whisper it under a vow of secrecy to your con-
fidential native servant.
8:45 p. m.- Just starting for the convoy. May,
luck go with us!
October 5.-Seven o'clock in the evening. Io
triumphe! Crown us with laurel-Elliott and
myself! Who can compare with us as vermin
killers? I have only just got back, tired and
weary, stained with blood and dust, but I have
sat down before either washing or changing to
have the satisfaction of seeing our deeds set forth


166
TH7 MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
in black and white-if only in my private log for
no eye but my own. I shall describe it all fully
as a preparation for our official account, which
must be drawn up when Elliott gets back. Billy
Dawson used to say that there were three degrees
of comparison-a prevarication, a lie, and an offi-
cial account. We at least cannot exaggerate our
success, for it would be impossible to add any-
thing to it.
We set out then, as per programme,
and came
upon the camp near the head of the valley. They
had two weak companies of the 54th with them
who might no doubt have held their own with
warning, but an unexpected rush of wild hillmen
is a very difficult thing to stand against. With
our reinforcement, however, and on our guard,
we might defy the rascals. Chamberlain was in
command-a fine young fellow. We soon made
him understand the situation, and were all ready
for a start by daybreak, though his wagons were
so full that we were compelled to leave several
tons of fodder behind in order to make room for
my Sepoys and for the artillery. About five o'clock
we inspanned, to use an Africanism, and by six
we were well on our way, with our escort as strag-
gling and unconcerned as possible-as helpless-
looking a caravan as ever invited attack.
I could see that it was to be no false alarm this
time, and that the tribes really meant business.
From my post of observation under the canvas


168
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
down, a furious, howling throng, with the green
banner of the Prophet in their van. Now was
our chance, and gloriously we utilized it. From
every cranny and slit of the wagons came a blaze
of fire, every shot of which told among the close-
packed mob. Two or three score rolled over
like rabbits and the rest reeled for a moment, and
then, with their chiefs at their head, came on
again in a magnificent rush. It was useless, how-
ever, for undisciplined men to attempt to face
such a well-directed fire. The leaders were bowled
over, and the others, after hesitating for a few
moments, turned and made for the rocks. It was
our turn now to assume the offensive. The guns
were unlimbered and grape poured into them,
while our little infantry force advanced at the
double, shooting and stabbing all whom they
overtook. Never have I known the tide of bat-
tle to turn so rapidly and so decisively. The
sullen retreat became a flight, and the flight a
panic-stricken rout, until there was nothing left
of the tribesmen except a scattered demoralized
rabble flying wildly to their native fastness for
shelter and protection.
I was by no means inclined to let them off
cheaply now that I had them in my power. On
the contrary, I determined to teach them such a
lesson that the sight of a single scarlet uniform
would in future be a passport in itself. We fol-
lowed hard upon the track of the fugitives and en-


170
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
seen. On either side naked precipices rose sheer
up for a thousand feet or more, converging upon
each other so as to leave a very narrow slit of
daylight above us, which was farther reduced
by the feathery fringe of palm trees and aloes
which hung over each lip of the chasm. The
cliffs were not more than a couple of hundred
yards apart at the entrance, but as we advanced
they grew nearer and nearer, until a half com-
pany in close order could hardly march abreast.
A sort of twilight reigned in this strange valley,
and the dim, uncertain light made the great basalt
rocks loom up vague and fantastic. There was no
path, and the ground was most uneven, but I
pushed on briskly, cautioning my fellows to have
their fingers on their triggers, for I could see
that we were nearing the point where the two
cliffs would form an acute angle with each other.
At last we came in sight of the place. A great
pile of bowlders were heaped up at the very end
of the pass, and among these our fugitives were
skulking, entirely demoralized apparently, and
incapable of resistance. They were useless as pris-
oners, and it was out of the question to let them
go, so there was no choice but to polish them off.
Waving my sword, I was leading my men on,
when we had a most dramatic interruption of a
sort which I have seen once or twice on the boards
of Drury Lane, but never in real life.
In the side of the cliff, close to the pile of


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
171
stones where the hillmen were making their last
stand, there was a cave which looked more like
the lair of some wild beast than a human habita-
tion. Out of this dark archway there suddenly
emerged an old man—such a very, very old man
that all the other veterans whom I have seen were
as chickens compared to him. His hair and beard
were both as white as snow, and each reached
more than half way to his waist. His face was
wrinkled and brown and bony, a cross between a
monkey and a mummy, and so thin and emaciated
were his shriveled limbs that you would hardly
have given him credit for having any vitality left,
were it not for his eyes, which glittered and spark-
led with excitement, like two diamonds in a set-
ting of mahogany. This apparition came rushing
out of the cave, and, throwing himself between
the fugitives and our fellows, motioned us back
with as imperious a sweep of the hand as ever
an emperor used to his slaves.
"Men of blood,” he cried, in a voice of thunder,
speaking excellent English, too—"this is a place
for prayer and meditation, not for murder. Desist,
lest the wrath of the gods fall upon you."
"Stand aside, old man," I shouted. “You will
meet with a hurt if you don't get out of the way.”
I could see that the hillmen were taking heart,
and that some of my Sepoys were finching, as
if they did not relish this new enemy. Clearly,
I must act promptly if I wished to complete our


172
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
success. I dashed forward at the head of the
white artillerymen who had stuck to me. The
old fellow rushed at us with his arms out as if to
stop us; but it was no time to stick at trifles, so
I passed my sword through his body at the same
moment that one of the gunners brought his
carbine down upon his head. He dropped in-
stantly, and the hillmen, at the sight of his fall,
set up the most unearthly howl of horror and
consternation. The Sepoys, who had been in-
clined to hang back, came on again the moment
he was disposed of, and it did not take us long
to consummate our victory. Hardly a man of
the enemy got out of the defile alive. What could
Hannibal or Caesar have done more? Our own
loss in the whole affair has been insignificant-
three killed and about fifteen wounded. Got their
banner, a green wisp of a thing with a sentence
of the Koran engraved upon it.
I looked, after the action, for the old chap, but
his body had disappeared, though how or whither
I have no conception. His blood be upon his
own head! He would be alive now if he had not
interfered, as the constables say at home, "with
an officer in the execution of his duty." The
scouts tell me that his name was Ghoolab Shah,
and that he was one of the highest and holiest
of the Buddhists. He had great fame in the dis-
trict as a prophet and worker of miracles-hence
the hubbub when he was cut down. They tell


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
173
me that he was living in this very cave when
Tamerlane passed this way in 1397, with a lot more
bosh of the sort. I went into the cave, and how
any man could live in it a week is a mystery to
me, for it was little more than four feet high, and
as damp and dismal a grotto as ever was seen.
A wooden settle and a rough table were the sole
furniture, with a lot of parchment scrolls covered
with hieroglyphics. Well, he has gone where he
will learn that the gospel of peace and good-will
is superior to all his Pagan lore. Peace go with
him!
Elliott and Chamberlain never caught the main
body-I knew they wouldn't-so the honors
of the day rest with me. I ought to get a step
for it, anyhow, and perhaps, who knows? some
mention in the Gazette. What a lucky chance!
I think Zemaun deserves his telescope after all
for giving it to me. Shall have something to eat
now, for I am half starved. Glory is an excellent
thing, but you cannot live upon it.
October 6, II a. m.-Let me try to set down
as calmly and accurately as I can all that occurred
last night. I have never been a dreamer or a
visionary, so I can rely upon my own senses,
though I am bound to say that if any other fellow
had told me the same thing I should have doubted
him. I might even have suspected that I was
deceived at the time had I not heard the bell
since. However, I must narrate what happened.


174
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
Elliott was in my tent with me having a quiet
cheroot until about ten o'clock. I then walked
the rounds with my jemidar, and having seen
that all was right I turned in a little before eleven.
I was just dropping off to sleep, for I was dog-
tired after the day's work, when I was roused by
some slight noise, and, looking round, I saw a
man dressed in Asiatic costume standing at the
entrance of my tent. He was motionless when I
saw him, and had his eyes fixed upon me with a
solemn and stern expression. My first thought
was that the fellow was some Ghazi or Afghan
fanatic who had stolen in with the intention of
stabbing me, and with this idea in my mind I
had all the will to spring from my couch and
defend myself, but the power was unaccountably
lacking. An overpowering languor and want of
energy possessed me. Had I seen the dagger
descending upon my breast I could not have made
an effort to avert it. I suppose a bird when it is
under the influence of a snake feels very much
as I did in the presence of this gloomy-faced
stranger. My mind was clear enough, but my
body was as torpid as though I were still asleep.
I shut my eyes once or twice and tried to per-
suade myself that the whole thing was a delusion,
but every time that I opened them there was the
man still regarding me with the same stony, men-
acing stare. The silence became unendurable. I
felt that I must overcome my languor so far as


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
177,
ishment should come on those days only it does
not concern you to know. Suffice it that you are
the murderer of Ghoolab Shah, the thrice blessed,
and that I am the senior of his three chelas com-
missioned to avenge his death.
"It is no personal matter between us. Amid
our studies we have no leisure or inclination for
personal matters. It is an immutable law, and it
is as impossible for us to relax it as it is for you
to escape from it. Sooner or later we shall come
to you and claim your life in atonement for the
one which
you
have taken. The same fate shall be
meted out to the wretched soldier, Smith, who,
though less guilty than yourself, has incurred the
same penalty by raising his sacrilegious hand
against the chosen of Buddha. If your life is pro-
longed it is merely that you may have time to re-
repent of
your misdeed and to feel the full force of
your punishment. And lest you should be tempted
to cast it out of your mind and to forget it, our bell
-our astral bell, the use of which is one of our
occult secrets—shall ever remind you of what has
been and what is to be. You shall hear it by day
and you shall hear it by night, and it will be a
sign to you that, do what you may and go where
you will, you can never shake yourself clear of
the chelas of Ghoolab Shah. You will never see
me more, accursed one, until the day when we
come for you. Live in fear, and in that anticipa-
tion which is worse than death.” With a menacing


180
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
days' complete silence it told a clearer tale of a
shaken nerve and a broken spirit than could any
more elaborate narrative. Pinned on to the jour-
nal was a supplementary statement which had
evidently been recently added by the general.
"From that day to this,” it said, “I have had no
night or day free from the intrusion of that dread-
ful sound with its accompanying train of thought.
Time and custom have brought me no relief, but,
on the contrary, as the years pass over my head
my physical strength decreases and my nerves
become less able to bear up against the continual
strain. I am a broken man in mind and body.
I live in a state of tension, always straining my
ears for the hated sound, afraid to converse with
my fellows for fear of exposing my dreadful con-
dition to them, with no comfort or hope of com-
fort on this side of the grave. I should be will-
ing, Heaven knows, to die, and yet as each 5th
of October comes round, I am prostrated with
fear because I do not know what strange and
terrible experience may be in store for me. Forty
years have passed since I slew Ghoolab Shah,
and forty times I have gone through all the hor-
rors of death, without attaining the blessed peace
which lies beyond. I have no means of knowing
in what shape my fate will come upon me.
I
have immured myself in this lonely country, and
surrounded myself with barriers, because in my
weaker moments my instincts urge me to take


DAY-BOOK OF J. B. HEATHERSTONE.
181
some steps for self-protection, but I know well
in
my
heart how futile it all is. They must come
quickly now, for I grow old, and Nature will
forestall them unless they make haste.
"I take credit to myself that I have kept my
hands off the prussic acid or opium bottle. It has
always been in my power to checkmate my occult
persecutors in that way, but I have ever held that
a man in this world cannot desert his post until
he has been relieved in due course by the authori-
ties. I have no scruples, however, about expos-
ing myself to danger, and during the Sikh and
Sepoy wars I did all that a man could do to court
death. He passed me by, however, and picked
out many a young fellow to whom life was only
opening and who had everything to live for, while
I survived to win crosses and honors which had
lost all relish for me. Well, well, these things
cannot depend upon chance, and there is no doubt
some deep reason for it all. One compensation
Providence has made me in the shape of a true
and faithful wife, to whom I told my dreadful
secret before the wedding, and who nobly con-
sented to share my lot. She has lifted half the
burden from my shoulders, but with the effect,
poor soul, of crushing her own life beneath its
weight. My children, too, have been a comfort
to me. Mordaunt knows all, or nearly all. Gabriel
we have endeavored to keep in the dark, though
we cannot prevent her from knowing that there is


182
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
something amiss. I should like this statement to
be shown to Dr. John Easterling, of Stranraer,
He heard on one occasion this haunting sound.
My sad experience may show him that I spoke
the truth when I said that there was much knowl-
edge in the world which has never found its way
to England yet.
J. B. Heatherstone."
It was going on for dawn by the time that I had
finished this extraordinary narrative, to which my
sister and Mordaunt Heatherstone listened with
the most absorbed attention. Already we could
see through the window that the stars had begun
to fade and a gray light to appear in the east. The
crofter who owned the lurcher dog lived a couple
of miles off, so it was time for us to be on foot.
Leaving Esther to tell my father the story in such
fashion as she might, we thrust some food in our
pockets and set off upon our solemn and eventful
errand.
CHAPTER XVI.
AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
It was dark enough when we started to make
it no easy matter to find our way across the moors,
but as we advanced it grew lighter and lighter,
until by the time we reached Fullarton's cabin it


AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
183
was broad daylight. Early as it was, he was up
and about, for the Wigtown peasants are an early
rising race. We explained our mission to him
in as few words as possible, and having made his
bargain—what Scot ever neglected that prelim-
inary?-he agreed not only to let us have the
use of his dog but to come with us himself. Mor-
daunt, in his desire for privacy, would have de-
murred at this arrangement, but I pointed out
to him that we had no idea what was in store for
us, and the addition of a strong, able-bodied man
to our party might prove to be of the utmost con-
sequence. Again, the dog was less likely to give
us trouble if we had its master to control it. My
arguments carried the day, and the biped accom-
panied us as well as his four-footed companion.
There was some little similarity between the
two, for the man was a towsy-headed fellow with
a great mop of yellow hair and a straggling beard,
while the dog was of the long-haired, unkempt
breed looking like an animated bundle of oakum.
All our way to the Hall its owner kept retailing
instances of the creature's sagacity and powers of
scent, which, according to his account, were little
less than miraculous. His anecdotes had a poor
audience, I fear, for my mind was filled with the
strange story which I had been reading, while
Mordaunt strode on with wild eyes and feverish
cheeks, without a thought for anything but the
problem which we had to solve. Again and again


184
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
as we topped an eminence I saw him look eagerly
round him in the faint hope of seeing some trace
of the absentee, but over the whole expanse of
moorland there was no sign of movement or of
life. All was dead and silent and deserted.
Our visit to the Hall was a very brief
one,
for
every minute now was of importance. Mordaunt
rushed in and cmerged with an old coat of his
father's, which he handed to Fullarton, who held
it out to the dog. The intelligent brute sniffed
at it all over, tien ran whining a little way down
the avenue, came back to sniff the coat again,
and finally elevating its stump of a tail in triumph,
uttered a succession of sharp yelps to show that
it was satisfied that it had struck the trail. Its
owner tied a long cord to its collar to prevent it
from going too fast for us, and we all set off upon
our search, the dog tugging and straining at its
leash in its excitement as it followed in the gen-
eral's footsteps.
Our way lay for a couple of hundred yards
along the highroad, and then passed through a
gap in the hedge and on to the moor, across which
we were led in a bee-line to the northward. The
sun had by this time risen above the horizon, and
the whole countryside looked so fresh and sweet,
from the blue, sparkling sea to the purple moun-
tai:is, that it was difficult to realize how weird
and uncanny was the enterprise upon which we
were engaged.


186
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
summit of this range, which is nowhere more
than a thousand feet in height, we could see,
looking northward, such a scene of bleakness and
Hesolation as can hardly be matched in any coun-
try. Right away to the horizon stretched the
broad expanse of mud and of water, mingled and
mixed together in the wildest chaos, like a por-
tion of some world in the process of formation.
Here and there on the dun-colored surface of
this great marsh there had burst out patches of
sickly yellow reeds and of livid greenish scum,
which only served to heighten and intensify the
gloomy effect of the dull, melancholy expanse.
On the side nearest to us some abandoned peat
cuttings showed that ubiquitous man had been
at work there, but beyond these few petty scars
there was no sign anywhere of human life. Not
even a crow or a seagull flapped their way over
that hideous desert.
This is the great bog of Cree, which may be
seen in the maps to extend over a considerable
surface of the shire of Wigtown. It is a salt-water
marsh formed by an inroad of the sea, and so inter-
sected is it with dangerous swamps and treacher-
ous pitfalls of liquid mud, that no man would ven-
ture through it unless he had the guidance of one
of the few peasants who retain the secret of its
paths. As we approached the fringe of rushes
which marked its border, a foul, dank smell rose
up from the stagnant wilderness, as from impure


AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
187
water and decaying vegetation-an earthly, noi-
some smell which poisoned the fresh upland air.
So forbidding and gloomy was the aspect of the
place that our stout crofter hesitated, and it was
all that we could do to persuade him to proceed.
Our lurcher, however, not being subjected to the
delicate impressions of our higher organizations,
still ran yelping along with its nose on the ground
and every fibre of its body quivering with excite-
ment and eagerness.
There was no difficulty about picking our way
through the morass, for wherever the five could
go we three could follow. If we could have had
any doubts as to our dog's guidance they would
all have been removed now, for in the soft, black
oozing soil we could distinctly trace the tracks
of the whole party. From these we could see
that they had walked abreast, and, furthermore,
that each was about equidistant from the other.
Clearly, then, no physical force had been used in
taking the general and his companion along.
The compulsion had been psychical and not mate-
rial.
Once within the swamp we had to be careful
not to deviate from the narrow track, which
offered a firm foothold. On each side lay shallow
sheets of stagnant water overlying a treacherous
bottom of semifluid mud, which rose above the
surface here and there in moist, sweltering banks,
mottled over with occasional patches of unhealthy


AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
189
“It's a great muckle hole in the ground that
gangs awa' doun so deep that naebody could
ever reach the bottom. Indeed there are folk
wha say that it's just a door leadin' intae the
bottomless pit itsel'."
“You have been there then?" I asked.
“Been there!” he cried. “What would I be
doin' at the Hole o' Cree? No, I've never been
there, nor any other man in his senses.”
“How do you know about it, then?”
“My great grandfeyther had been there, and
that's how I ken," Fullarton answered. "He was
fou' one Saturday nicht and he went for a bet.
He didna like tae talk aboot it afterward, and he
wouldna' tell a' what befell him, but he was aye
feared o' the very name. He's the first Fullarton
that's been at the Hole o' Cree, and he'll be the
last for me. If ye'll tak' my advice ye'll just gie
the matter up and gang hame again, for there's
no guid tae be got oot o' this place.”
"We shall go on with you or without you,”
Mordaunt answered. "Let us have your dog and
we can pick you up on our way back.”
"Na, na,” he cried; “I'll no hae my dog scared
wi' bogles and running down Aul Nick as if he
were a hare. The dog shall bide wi' me."
"The dog shall go with us," said my companion,
with his eyes blazing. “We have no time to argue
with you. Here's a five-pound note. Let us have
the dog, or, by heaven, I shall take it by force


190
#
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
and throw you in the bog if you hinder us." I
could realize the Heatherstone of forty years ago
when I saw the fierce and sudden wrath which lit
up the features of his son.
Either the bribe or the threat had the desired
effect; for the fellow grabbed at the money with
one hand while with the other he surrendered the
leash which held the lurcher. Leaving him to
retrace his steps, we continued to make our way
into the utmost recesses of the great swamp. The
tortuous path grew less and less defined as we pro-
ceeded, and was even covered in places with
water; but the increasing excitement of the hound
and the sight of the deep footmarks in the mud,
stimulated us to push on. At last, after struggling
through a grove of high bulrushes, we came on
a spot the gloomy horror of which might have
furnished Dantè with a fresh terror for his Inferno.
The whole bog in this part appeared to have
sunk in, forming a great funnel-shaped depres-
sion, which terminated in the center in a circular
rift or opening about forty paces in diameter. It
was a whirlpool-a perfect maelstrom of mud,
sloping down on every side to this silent and
awful chasm. Clearly this was the spot which,
under the name of the Hole of Cree, bore such
a sinister reputation among the rustics. I could
not wonder at its impressing their imagination,
for a more weird or gloomy scene, or one more
worthy of the avenue which led to it, could not be





AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
193
against those who have powers at their command
which we cannot even give a name to. There is
nothing for it but to accept the inevitable, and to
hope that these poor men may meet with some
compensation in another world for all that they
have suffered in this.”
"And be free from all devilish religions and
their murderous worshipers!” Mordaunt cried
furiously.
Justice compelled me to acknowledge in my
own heart that the murderous spirit had been set
on foot by the Christian before it was taken up
by the Buddhists, but I forebore to remark upon
it for fear of irritating my companion. For a long
time I could not draw him away from the scene
of his father's death, but at last, by repeated argu-
ments and reasonings, I succeeded in making him
realize how useless and unprofitable any further
efforts on our part must necessarily prove, and
in inducing him to return with me to Cloomber.
Oh! the wearisome, tedious journey! It liad
seemed long enough when we had some slight
flicker of hope, or at least of expectation, before
us, but now that our worst fears were fulfilled it
appeared interminable. We picked up our peas-
ant guide at the outskirts of the marsh, and hav-
ing restored his dog we let him find his own way
home, without telling him anything of the results
of our expedition. We ourselves plodded all day
over the moors with heavy feet and heavier hearts


194
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
until we saw the ill-omened tower of Cloomber,
and at last, as the sun was setting, found ourselves
once more beneath its roof.
There is no need for me to enter into further
details, or to describe the grief which our tidings
conveyed to mother and to daughter. Their long
expectation of some calamity was not sufficient to
prepare them for the terrible reality. For weeks
my poor Gabriel hovered between life and death,
and though she came round at last, thanks to the
nursing of my sister and the professional skill of
Dr. John Easterling, of Stranraer, she has never
to this day entirely recovered her former vigor.
Mordaunt, too, suffered much for some time, and
it was only after our removal to Edinburgh that
he rallied from the shock which he had undergone.
As to poor Mrs. Heatherstone, neither medical at-
tention nor change of air can ever have a per-
manent effect upon her. Slowly and surely, but
very placidly, she has declined in health and
strength, until it is evident that in a very few weeks
at the most she will have rejoined her husband and
restored to him the one thing which he must have
grudged to leave behind.
The Laird of Branksome came home from Italy
restored in health, with the result that we were
compelled to return once more to Edinburgh.
The change was agreeable to us, for recent events
had cast a cloud over our country life and had sur-
rounded us with unpleasant associations. Besides,


196
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
There is only one point which is still dark to me.
Why the chelas of Ghoolab Shah should have re-
moved their victims to the desolate Hole of Cree
instead of taking their lives at Cloomber, is, I con-
fess, a mystery to me. In dealing with occult
laws, however, we must allow for our own com-
plete ignorance of the subject. Did we know
more we might see that there was some analogy
between that foul bog and the sacrilege which
had been committed, and that their ritual and
customs demanded that just such a death was the
one appropriate to the crime. On this point I
should be sorry to be dogmatic, but at least we
must allow that the Buddhist priests must have
had some very good cause for the course of action
which they so deliberately carried out.
Months afterward I saw a short paragraph in
the Star of India announcing that three eminent
Buddhists—Lal Hoomi, Mowdar Khan and Ram
Singh-had just returned in the steamship Deccan
from a short trip to Europe. The very next item
was devoted to an account of the life and services
of Major-General Heatherstone, "who has lately
disappeared from his country house in Wigtown-
shire, and who, there is too much reason to fear,
has been drowned.” I wonder if by chance there
was any other human eye but mine which traced
a connection between these paragraphs. I never
showed them to my wife or to Mordaunt, and they
will only know of their existence when they read
these pages.


AT THE HOLE OF CREE.
197
I don't know that there is any other point which
needs clearing up. The intelligent reader will
have already seen the reasons for the general's
fear of dark faces, of wandering men (not know-
ing how his pursuers might come after him), of
visitors (from the same cause and because his
hateful bell was liable to sound at all times). His
broken sleep led him to wander about the house
at night, and the lamps which he burned in every
room were no doubt to prevent his imagination
from peopling the darkness with terrors. Lastly,
his elaborate precautions were, as he has himself
explained, rather the result of a feverish desire to
do something than in the expectation that he
could really ward off his fate.
Science will tell you that there are no such pow-
ers as those claimed by the Eastern mystics. I,
James Fothergill West, can confidently answer
that science is wrong, and invite the readers atten-
tion to a pithy, if disrespectful, aphorism of Baron
Hellenbach. For what is science? Science is the
concensus of opinion of scientific men, and his-
tory has shown that it is slow to accept a truth.
Science sneered at Newton for twenty years.
Science proved mathematically that an iron ship
could not swim, and science declared that a steam-
ship could not cross the Atlantic. Like Goethe's
Mephistopheles, our wise professor's forte is to
"stets verneinen." Thomas Didymus is, to use his
own jargon, his prototype. Let him learn that if


ADDENDUM.
199
mer days it is probable that their organization was
much more widespread. Under the various names
of the Egyptian priests, Chaldean Magi, Essenes,
Gnostics, Theurgic Neo-Platonists, and Seers, we
catch glimpses of them throughout history. They
form the closest and most important secret society
which has ever been organized—a society to which
any suitable man may gain admission, but which
is girt round with such physical terrors, so much
bodily privation and discipline, that few have the
courage and hardihood to persevere to the end.
Those who are earnest and resolute enough to at-
tain full initiation have, however, their full reward
for all that they have gone through, for they at-
tain such knowledge and such powers as raise
them far above the ruck of mankind.
The knowledge of the occult philosophers is
both physical and metaphysical, but it is to the lat-
ter branch, and especially to the human soul and
its destiny, that they have devoted most attention.
Their physical knowledge, however, and their
power of manipulating those secret laws by which
nature builds or destroys, are far in excess of any-
thing known to European science. It must be
remembered that our own scientific results are
the results of a few hundred years, whereas the
occult philosophy has been the work of the very
cream of humanity, extending over an unbroken
period of at least twenty thousand years, during
which time every adept has handed down his pow-


200
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
ers to his initiates exactly as they were handed
down to him, or with such additions as his life of
study has enabled him to make. Wonderful as are
the powers to which these men have attained, they
are the first to disclaim any supernatural source
for them. They arise entirely from an intimate
knowledge of the nature of things and a deep in-
sight into the hidden forces which pervade the
universe. The whole race may hope some day
to attain the learning which they have already
acquired.
One of the first lessons which the occult initiate
has to learn is that wisdom is not to be implanted
in any mind by the mere process of study and of
instruction. The soil must be prepared before this
most precious seed can be committed to it. The
keenest and most receptive intellect which is the
seat also of pride, of avarice, of sensuality, of self-
ishness or the love of comfort, can never hope to
surmount the first of the ordeals which the occult
aspirant has to pass. These weeds must all be
thoroughly and remorselessly eradicated before
the garden can be planted. For seven years the
young chela devotes himself to this struggle for
the mastery over himself, until, if he be successful,
he finds himself pure in mind and body, free from
gross animal instincts, indifferent to personal com-
fort, and with all the spiritual part of his nature
developed at the expense of the bestial. He is then
in a condition to receive the first teachings which


ADDENDUM.
20]
will lead him on to the higher path. Many, of
course, break down in this preliminary process,
and are never deemed worthy of the honor of
initiation; but the very essence of the order is that
it should be select. In this way the early training
comes from within, not from without. To use
their own expression, "an adept becomes he is
not made.”
And what are the results obtained by this most
ancient and stringent school of knowledge? By
the very nature of things we outsiders can only
have vague ideas of the few which are adapted to
our understanding. The little which we know is
probably the mere fringe of the subject. Yet they
comprise some fairly weighty adjuncts to our
stock of facts.
In the first place, they have proved without the
shadow of a doubt that man possesses a soul by
the simple expedient of separating it from the
body and of rejoining them at pleasure. An adept
can put off his body as he would put off his great-
coat, and can travel in his soul with the rapidity
of thought to the other end of the world. This
endows him with practical omniscience as far as
mundane affairs are concerned. Again, they have
satisfied themselves that the soul is itself a mate-
rial thing, containing within it a far more ethereal
essence, known as the spirit. When Paul of Tar-
sus says that man consists of a body, a soul, and a
spirit, he is not indulging in vain surmise, but is


202
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
stating concisely the conclusions arrived at by the
occult school to which there is every reason to
think that he belonged.
Again, the adepts claim to communicate with
each other by means of thought-transferrence and
not by words. The initiated can therefore talk as
easily at the distance of a tho id miles as if
they were in the same room. Their desolate re-
treats and caves in the Himalayas, which seem so
lonely to the ignorant, are really foci of mental
activity and interchange of views. To attract
each other's attention when they wish to com-
municate, they have the power of sounding that
bell-like tingling alarum which played so promi-
nent a part in the case of my poor father.
They assert again, and support their assertion
by proofs, that they have such a mastery over
the subtle chemistry of nature that they can take
the elements from the atmosphere and combine
them or mold them into any form they please,
so as to make any visible object by the synthesis
of invisible atoms. They can resolve a solid sub-
stance into its most minute molecules, waft those
molecules on an occult current to any distance,
and there unite them so as to form the original
object exactly as it was before. In this manner a
block of marble has been conveyed in an instant
from Bombay to Calcutta, and letters have been
sent with a rapidity which would render the tele-
graph obsolete.


ADDENDUM.
203
These are one or two of the minor results
claimed by the Eastern philosophers, and surely,
if they profess to have attained nothing else, their
system deserves some attention from the scientists
of the West. The adepts themselves, however, in
discussing the question, dismiss these physical
phenomena as puerile inanifestations, useful
enough for service in this world, but of no per-
manent or real importance. The real value of
their system lies, they declare, in its metaphysical
or religious aspect, and there they claim to have
cast a flood of light upon the destiny of the soul
which will change religion from a mere specula-
tion or aspiration to one of the exact sciences as
demonstrable and as certain as, geometry. Into
these higher regions of the esoteric system none
can penetrate save those who have already mas-
tered the inferior grades, and been chastened in
mind and body.
Of course the objection would at once occur to
any Western reader that it was extremely improb-
able that a clique of men could keep their knowl-
edge to themselves, and that if it were possible it
is still reprehensible, since such knowledge is in-
tended for the use of the whole human race. To
this the occultist replies that the powers which are
acquired by his system are of such a formidable
nature that they might be terribly abused if they
fell into the wrong hands. He considers, there-
fore, that the human race is not yet prepared for


204
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER.
the just exercise of these forces, and that a great
responsibility rests with his order to test every
candidate for initiation in the most severe man-
ner, and so to insure that no unworthy man should
ever gain admission to the brotherhood. This is
the adept's reply, and, right or wrong, he inflex-
ibly adheres to the line of conduct which he has
laid down for himself.
For the information which I have jotted down
here I am indebted partly to my own reading,
partly to what I have heard from my father, and
most of all to Mr. A. P. Sinnett, for his excellent
summary of the occult philosophy. (“The Occult
World." Trübner & Co., 1883.) I can not supple-
ment my account better than by adding one or
two of Mr. Sinnett's clear and forcible statements.
"The whole edifice of occultism," he writes,
"from basement to roof, is so utterly strange to
ordinary conceptions that it is difficult to know
how to begin an explanation of its contents. How
could one describe a calculating machine to an
audience unfamiliar with the simplest mechanical
contrivances and knowing nothing of arithmetic?
And the highly cultured classes of modern Eu-
rope as regards the achievements of occultism are,
in spite of the perfection of their literary scholar-
ship and the exquisite precision of their attain-
ments in their own departments of science, in the
position as regards occultism of knowing nothing
about the ABC of the subject, nothing about the


ADDENDUM.
205
capacities of the soul at all as distinguished from
the capacities of body and soul combined. The
occultists have for ages devoted themselves to that
study chiefly; they have accomplished results in
connection with it which are absolutely bewilder-
ing in their magnificence; but, suddenly intro-
duced to some of these, the prosaic intelligence is
staggered, and feels in a world of miracle and en-
chantment."
In another part of his interesting work Mr.
Sinnett deals with sounds produced at a distance
by adepts which correspond to those which haunt-
ed my father for so long. Of these he has had per-
sonal experience. “It is never loud,” he says; "at
least, I have never heard it very loud; but it is al-
ways clear and distinct to a remarkable extent. If
you lightly strike the edge of a thin claret glass
with a knife you may get a sound which it would
be difficult to persuade any one had come from
another room; but the occult bell sound is like
that, only purer and clearer, with no subsound of
jarring in it whatever.
The bell sounds
are not mere sportive illustrations of the properties
of the currents which are set in action to produce
them. They serve the direct practical purpose
among occultists of a telegraphic call-bell. It ap-
pears that where trained occultists are concerned,
so that the mysterious magnetic connection which
enables them to communicate ideas is once estab-
lished, they can produce the bell sounds at any
*