HOUSE
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 ROBERTSON & MULLENS 
 
 BOOKSELLERS 
 
 107-113 ELIZABETH STREET 
 
 MELBOURNE
 
 The Black House
 
 Black House 
 
 By ROY BRIDGES, Author of 'The 
 Immortal Dawn' ' Merchandise,' ' The Bubble 
 Moon,' ' The Fugitive,' etc. <SL> <Sb <3k 
 
 Hodder and Stoughton 
 Limited, London, New 
 York and Toronto 
 
 I92O
 
 PK 
 
 To 
 L. V. BIGGS, ESQ. 
 
 WITH ALL 
 GOOD WISHES 
 
 1781788
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I CONCERNING MY GUARDIAN . . 9 
 
 II QUESTIONS AND FRENCH BRANDY . 18 
 
 III THE ENCOUNTER AT The Gold Scales . 24 
 
 IV THE BLACK HOUSE .... 34 
 V MR. SIMON GANDY .... 40 
 
 VI I AM ENROLLED A SCHOLAR . . 48 
 
 VII OF MR. GANDY'S ESTABLISHMENT . 55 
 
 VIII THE BROW OF THE CLIFF ... 59 
 
 IX DUSK AT THE BLACK HOUSE '. . 68 
 
 X NIGHT AND DREAMS .... 74 
 
 XI GUNS FROM THE SEA 80 
 
 XII WRATH OF MR. GANDY ... 85 
 
 XIII BENEATH THE FOUR-POSTER . . 91 
 
 XIV VOICES BY NIGHT .... 96 
 XV THE TRAP-DOOR . . . .102 
 
 XVI OUR VENTURE BY NIGHT . . . 107 
 
 XVII THE IRON STAIR . . . .115 
 
 XVIII MALICE OF MR. CORBE . . .127 
 
 XIX THE BLUE TATTOO MARKS . .132 
 
 XX CONTENTS OF THE LACQUERED PRESS . 140 
 
 7
 
 8 Contents 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XXI FLIGHT 145 
 
 XXII THE MANOR HOUSE . . . .151 
 
 XXIII MISTRESS ANNE CORBE . . . 159 
 
 XXIV THE BAG OF YELLOW SILK . . 165 
 XXV ASSURANCE OF SANCTUARY. . . 172 
 
 XXVI EXAMINATION OF MR. CORBE . . 177 
 
 XXVII MR. GANDY AS CLAIMANT . . .191 
 
 XXVIII THE NIGHT WATCH .... 196 
 
 XXIX THE RETURN OF MR. GANDY . . 205 
 
 XXX THE JUSTICE 212 
 
 XXXI THE CAVES OF CORBE . . .223 
 
 XXXII END OF THE BLACK HOUSE . . 232 
 
 XXXIII THE Sea Hawk 239 
 
 XXXIV ABOARD 248 
 
 XXXV LURE OF TREASURE .... 254 
 
 XXXVI THE Sea Hawk SAILS. . . .262 
 
 XXXVII OVERSEAS 268 
 
 XXXVIII THE REEF 278 
 
 XXXIX RISING TIDE 284 
 
 XL THE YELLOW FANG .... 289 
 
 XLI WHAT CHANCED ON THE ROCK . . 299 
 
 XLII NORTH OF NEW HOLLAND . . . 304 
 
 XLI 1 1 THE HAND OF GOD .... 307 
 
 XLIV I COME AGAIN [TO CORBE . . .314
 
 Chapter I Concerning My Guardian 
 
 MY enrolment as a scholar in the Black 
 House Mr. Simon Candy's establish- 
 ment for the sons of gentlemen resulted from 
 the hostility of a soured spinster, Miss Lavinia 
 Pounds, towards myself. Her brother, Josiah 
 Pounds, was my guardian, drawing a fat remun- 
 eration for the duty though I had no know- 
 ledge of it at the time but neither feeling 
 nor indeed affecting any particular love for 
 me. Certainly he flogged me on occasion with 
 the severity of a Spartan parent ; otherwise 
 I led a dull and neglected life in his house Hoi- 
 born way. So dull a life without companions 
 of my own choice and years that I thought 
 it a fortunate event, that for a piece of inso- 
 lence to Lavinia, who presided over Josiah's 
 home, I was not flogged, gaoled in the coal- 
 cellar, and finally reduced to penitence on a 
 week's dieting of bread and water, but sen- 
 tenced by Mr. Pounds on his return home 
 he had a pretty practice at Old Bailey, and 
 saved many a rogue from the rope to be put 
 to school. 
 
 Mark me now a youngster turned thirteen 
 years ranged by Miss Lavinia as prose-
 
 io The Black House 
 
 cut or and Bow Street officer in one, before my 
 guardian. He was standing before the fire 
 in his study the tails of his bottle-green coat 
 raised to warm his plump body a middle- 
 sized fellow, precise in his dress, his frilled 
 shirt starched to a snowy whiteness, his pant- 
 aloons cut tightly to his legs, and his waist- 
 coat well lined. His cunning little blue eyes 
 pierced me through the spectacles upon his 
 snub red nose. Ruddy he was, but his nose 
 was redder, with the perennial blush on it from 
 port wine, of which he had a nice apprecia- 
 tion ; his lips were finely but cruelly cut ; 
 his brow heavy, and bald from sweating under 
 his wig in court. Miss Lavinia was lean, and 
 rustily clad in a gown with the brown tinge 
 on it of a starveling black cat's fur her per- 
 son and her dress contrasting with Josiah's 
 rotundity and smart attire. 
 
 ' Well, my lad/ said my guardian, rapping 
 me upon the skull with his snuff-box, as Miss 
 Lavinia propelled me forward, ' Well ! Told 
 my sister to go to the devil hey ? You did 
 hey ? And what have you to say for your- 
 self ? ' 
 
 ' Brother, if you're going to flog him, I'll 
 retire,' said Miss Lavinia delicately. ' I wax- 
 ended the cane for you, and it's on the table 
 there. He deserves to smart for his impu- 
 dence. ' 
 
 ' Flogging ! Oh, my dear Lavinia, I'm tired 
 of flogging the cub ! ' 
 
 ' Never did the young varmint deserve it 
 more. '
 
 Concerning My Guardian u 
 
 ' Told you to go to the devil, did he ? ' grin- 
 ning. 
 
 ' He did ! ' snapped she. ' And he meant it.' 
 
 ' Aye, aye, and no doubt ! He meant every 
 word of it. Maybe, Lavinia, he'll have his 
 wish.' 
 
 ' Brother,' cried she, ' you blaspheme ! ' 
 
 ' Do I, Lavinia ? ' laughing at her. ' No, no, 
 I don't blaspheme. You wrong me. Come ! 
 Be just, Lavinia.' 
 
 ' Is the varmint then to go scot f ree ? ' cried 
 she, her eyes snapping sparks. 
 
 ' That should appeal to me,' he answered, 
 chuckling. (I saw that he had drunk more 
 wine than he could carry soberly.) ' I've saved 
 so many rogues from dancing in the air, and 
 so many rogues' backs from running red, why 
 should I flog this rogue ? ' 
 
 ' Brother, I tell you, the brat's insolence is 
 past bearing.' 
 
 ' Aye, aye, and no doubt. He needs a firmer 
 hand over him than mine, Lavinia,' smiling 
 foolishly at his fat left hand. He had a ring 
 with a green stone on his forefinger. ' A 
 firmer hand and a birch instead of a cane.' 
 
 She nodded her head in venomous accord. 
 ' Yes, a birch,' cried she. ' A birch plied till 
 he squeals for mercy.' 
 
 ' My dear Lavinia,' said my guardian, making 
 her a little bow, ' I'm happy to agree with you. 
 Hey, you dog ' with so savage a snarl of his 
 red lips and flash of his blue eyes that for the 
 life of me I could not save myself from start- 
 ing back ' you need a firm hand. D'ye hear
 
 12 The Black House 
 
 me a firm hand over you ? Hey ? ' tweak- 
 ing my ear. 
 
 ' I hear, ' I muttered, as he lugged me towards 
 him. 
 
 ' Oh, you hear ! My lad, you'll feel, I promise 
 you. You recall Sim Gandy, Lavinia ? ' 
 
 She cast him a furtive look and her lips 
 tightened. She said in a low voice, ' I recall 
 your speaking of him, Josiah/ 
 
 ' Well, he's set up a school for sons of gentle- 
 men for sons of gentlemen he he he ! ' 
 
 I marked her watching him, while he leered 
 at her. 
 
 ' A clever dog ! Oh, a clever dog ! ' 
 
 ' Josiah ! ' she snapped at him sharply, noting 
 his condition ; whereat, as if recollecting him- 
 self, he released my ear ; snapped his snuff- 
 box lid and went on more soberly, ' Oh, aye- 
 clever ! A scholar, you rogue. A Master of 
 Arts, Oxford. A disciplinarian. One who will 
 fill your empty pate with learning. One who 
 will flay your hide, if you transgress/ 
 
 ' Where's his school, brother ? ' asked she. 
 
 ' Far enough away from here/ he answered 
 testily. ' On the coast. Console yourself, my 
 dear Lavinia. This dog shall trouble you no 
 more. ' 
 
 ' Trouble ! ' said she, bitter for the thought 
 that I should escape immediate punishment. 
 ' Trouble ! How soon's the scamp to be packed 
 off ? At once ? Or is he to be about this 
 house for days worriting me, and knowing that 
 whatever he may say or do, you'll not flog him ? 
 I'll flog him myself I will ! '
 
 Concerning My Guardian 13 
 
 He waved his snuff-box at her impatiently. 
 ' Hell be here maybe a week, maybe longer,' 
 he said. ' He'll go, when it's convenient to 
 me to leave Town, and no sooner/ 
 
 ' A week ! The rogue's to be here another 
 week ! ' 
 
 ' Or more,' he answered, yawning. 
 
 ' For a week or more I'm to have him here, 
 and put up with his insolence ! A week or 
 more he's to go scot-free ! Brother, do you 
 mind me ? He told me 
 
 ' He consigned you to the devil ! ' he took 
 her up savagely, his face suffused. ' Gad, 
 Lavinia, I warrant the devil wants you more 
 far more than I at this moment. Go away, 
 Lavinia, I am weary to death.' 
 
 ' You'll not flog him ! ' 
 
 ' I've told you, no ! ' 
 
 ' So he's to go scot-free ! ' 
 
 ' He's to be packed off to Sim Gandy. I 
 promise you, Lavinia, Gandy 's right arm has 
 a vigour that mine lacks. Now that's enough. 
 Go away, woman ! Is my house my house ? 
 Am I to be plagued to death with you ? 
 Deuce take you ! ' 
 
 Before the wrath shown by his snarling lips, 
 the blaze of his little eyes, and the flush of his 
 face like the flush of heavy port, she quailed ; 
 struck at my skull with her bunch of keys, 
 and missing, whisked from the room. My 
 guardian chuckled with appreciation, and a while 
 he stood before the fire regarding me, as sheep- 
 ishly I faced him. He shot out his right Jhand 
 suddenly he had an odd strength in those
 
 14 The Black House 
 
 fat white hands of his and he pulled me for- 
 ward by my collar. 
 
 ' Gad, young James,' he said, chuckling, 
 ' you promise well. I've yet a mind to flog 
 you soundly. Not for Lavinia's sake for your 
 own. What have you to say for yourself ? ' 
 shaking me like a rat. ' You're an insolent 
 rogue, James. Gandy will cut the insolence 
 out of your hide, I promise you. He's a 
 martinet, my lad. A fellow who's sailed the 
 world up and down. Learnt the discipline 
 of a ship of the Line. A bold fellow, a ripe 
 scholar, a seaman known from Barbadoes to 
 Bombay. An odd compound hey, James ? 
 Seaman and scholar ! How d'ye welcome the 
 prospect, James ? ' 
 
 I hated his grinning face and cruel lips and 
 cunning little eyes. I muttered savagely, ' Oh, 
 it'll suit me well enough.' 
 
 ' You think so ! ' He took me up with splut- 
 tering laughter. ' You mean you'll be glad 
 to be quit of us. Come, James, come is this 
 grati tude ? Have I taken a serpent to my 
 bosom ? Now is this kind, James ? ' 
 
 I answered to his mockery, ' You've treated 
 me like a dog. I'll be glad to be away from 
 you.' 
 
 ' From me, James ! ' 
 
 ' From you and your sister. Most from 
 you ! Though I've cause to hate you both.' 
 
 ' So you bite the hand that's fed you ! Why, 
 here's a scholar after Sim Candy's heart and 
 hand ! James, I can promise you his very 
 tender care. He'll succeed, where I've failed.
 
 Concerning My Guardian 15 
 
 Sim will be a father to you ! ' His fingers 
 tightened viciously on my neck. 
 
 ' Who was my father ? ' gasped I, nigh 
 choking in his grip. ' Why am I here living 
 with you ? Why haven't I father and mother 
 like other lads ? Are they both dead ? ' 
 
 His hand relaxed from my collar. He leaned 
 back against the chimney-piece eyeing me 
 cunningly and intently. ' Both dead ! ' he 
 asserted smoothly. ' Dead and buried. Rest- 
 ing in hope of a joyful resurrection/ And 
 suddenly shooting Ms head forward and his 
 lips snarling, ' Why d'ye ask me this, James ? ' 
 
 I answered nothing. I felt a lump in my 
 throat, and my eyes saw him through a mist. 
 
 ' Come, ' he snapped. ' Why d'ye ask me ? 
 Now, I mean ? What's put it into your head ? 
 Haven't I told you often both are dead ? 
 
 Who's been breaking off to take snuff, 
 
 but his fingers spilling the scented dust on to 
 his frill. 
 
 I wondered at his concern and the shaking 
 of his hand. Standing there, with his head 
 poked forward, his fingers dipping into the 
 box and still spilling the snuff. Gaping at 
 him, I said nothing. 
 
 ' What's put this into your head ?' he de- 
 manded again. ' Why don't you answer ? ' 
 
 ' Put what into my head ? ' I stammered. 
 
 ' Don't give me my questions back ! Rot 
 you, sir,' with blazing bullying wrath, as if he 
 sought to cow a witness in the court ' Don't 
 try to cross-examine me ! What made you 
 ask? '
 
 16 The Black House 
 
 ' I want to know. That's all.' 
 
 ' Oh, that's all ! Oh, yes, I'll warrant me 
 that's all ! Have you been about the house 
 all day or abroad ? ' 
 
 ' I've been here all day. I'm always here.' 
 And indeed I was never abroad save in Miss 
 Lavinia's or her brother's custody. 
 
 ' Then what's put the question into that 
 head of yours ? ' 
 
 ' I've told you. Nothing except wonder- 
 ing.' 
 
 He seemed to master himself by an effort. 
 He snapped the snuff-box and pointed his fat 
 forefinger at me. ' You want to know ? ' 
 said he. ' You really want to know ? I 
 wouldn't ask, my lad, if I were you. I would 
 not ask ! I warn you don't say I haven't 
 warned you ! ' 
 
 ' I want to know ! ' I said again heavily. 
 
 He gave me a swift cunning look. He an- 
 swered. ' Your father was a rogue, James 
 a rogue who left you nothing but his sins. 
 Your mother well, she's dead. I've brought 
 you up, James ; call it a whim ; call it charity ; 
 call it what you will. At least I've saved you 
 from a foundling hospital or a charity school. 
 You're not a grateful cub, James. You're 
 not ! Some day you'll have your history. 
 You won't be proud of it. For the time, let 
 it rest with the dead ! Let it rest ! Get 
 to bed, boy.' 
 
 But though I sped from the room to tumble 
 upstairs into my attic, and hot with rage and 
 shame to blubber on my pillow till it was wet,
 
 Concerning My Guardian 17 
 
 I took with me the picture of his flushed and 
 scowling face, his peering and suspicious eyes 
 and his shaking hand spilling the snuff upon 
 his frill. He was so far in his cups, that the 
 composure and control, which else would have 
 defeated any questions of mine, had failed 
 him for the time the manner of his speech 
 gave me to understand that he had lied to me, 
 and that my parentage and the years I had 
 passed in his house spelt a mystery which I 
 should set myself to solve.
 
 Chapter II Questions and French Brandy 
 
 MY guardian had said a week or more must 
 elapse before he conducted me down 
 to the coast to the establishment of Mr. Simon 
 Gandy. Eight days thence it was a Thurs- 
 day morning we drove together down from 
 London to the Black House, wherein Mr. 
 Gandy conducted his school for the sons of 
 gentlemen. We had left London before day- 
 light ; we had travelled all that day and the 
 night through in a covered carriage as if my 
 guardian had an objection to the mail coach 
 and we had paused thrice on our journey for 
 the change of horses and for our refreshment 
 at the inn. I had slumbered uneasily after 
 the night fell, but if I woke, as we jolted over 
 the 'rough roads, and peered through the car- 
 riage window I could make out only the shad- 
 ows of dark banks by the wayside, of hedge- 
 rows, and of clumps of trees going black to 
 a black sky, with the wan moon shining at a 
 chance break in the clouds. In the darkness 
 we clattered over the cobbles into the main 
 street of Corbe, and the rattle waking me, when 
 our carriage was pulling up in the stable yard 
 of an inn, I was prepared to step down, stiff 
 
 18
 
 Questions and French Brandy ig 
 
 and gaping and shivering, with my guardian. 
 I felt upon my lips the salt blown up by 
 the sea wind ; I heard at hand the wash of 
 waters. I believed that through the dark I 
 could make out great cliffs going high above 
 the village. My guardian, wrapped in a thick 
 greatcoat, muffled about the throat with shawls, 
 his hat thrust down to his ears, bade me crossly 
 follow him ; and leaving grumbling driver and 
 groom to tend the horses, he led me to the door 
 of the inn, whence a flicker of light and the 
 clatter of shoes told that some one was not 
 abed. As my guardian pushed open the door 
 of the kitchen, the rush of light blinded me. 
 But presently I marked a huge figure lurch 
 up from the fire, and I heard a gruff voice 
 
 demand, ' Who's that ? What the ? Come 
 
 down from London, sir ? ' 
 
 To which my guardian answered, ' Yes, from 
 London. W T e need a good meal and a warm 
 bed at once. You're the landlord, I take it.' 
 
 ' Aye, the landlord for sure ! Bed and a 
 meal for sure ! And a drop of brandy hot 
 
 French brandy none the worse ' breaking 
 
 off suddenly. 
 
 ' None the worse, you would have said, my 
 friend,' my guardian took him up, ' for never 
 having paid duty.' 
 
 ' Who says so ? ' growled the fellow sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 ' You would have said so,' my guardian 
 answered, laughing. ' Have no fear, my friend. 
 Excise, or no excise it matters not a jot to 
 me, if only your brandy be good, and hot.'
 
 20 The Black House 
 
 By now I had rubbed my eyes clear. I made 
 out that we were in a vast kitchen, furnished 
 with rough tables and chairs and settles by 
 the fire. Blazing up, the flames showed me the 
 landlord a huge fellow, red-headed, unshorn, 
 face fat and drink-flushed. He had on a thick 
 pea-jacket open at his hairy throat, loose 
 breeches belted at his middle, and sea boots 
 covering his legs. He cast at me a curious look ; 
 his gaze passing to my guardian then, he seemed 
 to regard Mr. Pounds with no greater favour 
 than he did myself. The flames, leaping through 
 the logs and seacoal on the great hearth, 
 guarded by an iron roasting-jack, were reflected 
 by the dazzling display of polished pewter on 
 the shelves, and revealed the flowers painted 
 on the china ; and the smoke, as the wind 
 rumbled about the chimney, blew out into the 
 room, as if to cure the hams, the bacon and the 
 dried fish hanging there, with ropes of onions 
 like fat round pates among them. 
 
 ' Sit down by the fire and warm ye, sir and 
 young sir/ growled the giant, pointing with his 
 clay pipe to a settle. ' It's well for ye I 'm about, 
 or you'd have gone cold and hungry for two hours 
 or more. ' And indeed the hands of the smoke- 
 blackened clock pointed only to the hour of five. 
 
 ' You're out of bed early, my friend,' said 
 my guardian, yawning as he loosened his 
 shawls from his neck. 
 
 ' Yes, it's early ! When a man can't lie 
 easily abed, there's always the one reason. 
 You're married, sir, I take it, and this young 
 gentleman's your son ? '
 
 Questions and French Brandy 21 
 
 My guardian purported to yawn again, and 
 made him no reply. 
 
 ' A woman ! ' said the landlord. ' That's 
 why I'm about at this hour of the morn- 
 ing.' 
 
 ' Your wife ? ' asked my guardian, laughing. 
 
 ' Aye, aye, sir, my wife ! She's robbed me of 
 more sleep with that tongue of hers than I may 
 make up this side of Resurrection Morning/ 
 
 ' We're as anxious for bed as you must be,' my 
 guardian reminded him ; and muttering, ' Aye, 
 to be sure ! ' the fellow busied himself in slicing 
 ham, sticking upon the fire a frying pan which, 
 ere he set the table, was hissing and giving out 
 a delightful odour of rashers. Muttering to 
 himself, as of his grievance against his shrewish 
 wife, the landlord spread the table with a white 
 cloth, bread, a jug of milk, curiously fine china, 
 and knives and forks with handles stained red 
 and blue. Taking from the cupboard then a 
 black bottle, he set himself to compounding 
 a draught of brandy, sugar and hot water for 
 my guardian. 
 
 All this while, wearied to death, I perched on 
 the settle by the fire, and my guardian standing 
 before the blaze in his favourite attitude, gave 
 me never a word. The landlord, bending over 
 the fire to tend the rashers, cast queer and 
 furtive glances at me ; looked from me to my 
 guardian ; and looking back again seemed now 
 to regard me with a rough pity. 
 
 ' You're for the Black House, I suppose ? ' 
 he growled at last, handing my guardian the 
 steaming glass.
 
 22 The Black House 
 
 ' For the Black House, yes/ said Mr. Pounds 
 smoothly. 
 
 ' Putting the boy to school there ? ' asked the 
 landlord with a queer grin. 
 
 ' My friend/ said my guardian dryly, ' do 
 I question you about this very excellent brandy 
 of yours ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, no offence, no offence, sir. Somehow, 
 I took it to be the Black House. A drop of 
 brandy for the lad ? ' 
 
 ' Weaker than this/ said Mr. Pounds, sipping 
 his liquor appreciatively. ' He's too young 
 to be carried abed drunk. ' 
 
 ' D'ye know Mr. Gandy ? ' pursued the land- 
 lord, as he mixed a glass for me. 
 
 ' He's a friend of mine/ my guardian told 
 him. ' A fine brandy this of yours, my good 
 fellow/ 
 
 I saw the landlord's face darken, and I 
 understood that my guardian was hinting 
 that, if the smuggling of the brandy was none 
 of his business, his purpose of placing me in 
 Mr. Candy's house was equally not a matter 
 for question. Apprehensive of Mr. Gandy 's 
 propensities and of the probable brutalities that 
 awaited me in his establishment, I had grown so 
 far inured to harsh treatment in Pounds' own 
 house, that boy as I was, hating Pounds and his 
 sister so, I had accepted my transfer from 
 London to Corbe even with eagerness. I had 
 reasoned to myself that at least I should be 
 quit of the hateful company of Josiah and 
 Lavinia ; at least I should find companions 
 of my own age ; at least I could suffer no worse
 
 Questions and French Brandy 23 
 
 at Mr. Candy's hands than at the hands of my 
 guardian's Methodistical kinsman, Mr. Jonah 
 Rigg, from whom I had received such knowledge 
 of letters as I possessed. Only the landlord's 
 queer looks and questions of my guardian 
 troubled me for all my weariness. What manner 
 of man was this into whose hands I was to be 
 delivered, and whom, I took it, the stout, 
 besotted fellow, now busying himself with the 
 preparation of our breakfast, viewed with no 
 great favour ; and who, I had it from my guar- 
 dian, had been seaman, and had sailed on what 
 manner of cruises over the world, ere he turned 
 schoolmaster in so lone a place as this ? Yet 
 the potency of the French brandy, my weariness, 
 the comfort of the rashers, of which I ate my 
 fill, so weighed me down with heaviness, that 
 as one bemused I followed with my guardian 
 the landlord, when he lighted the way for us 
 up a creaking stair and into a little room, 
 where a huge feather bed invited to repose. 
 So weary was I, when they left me, my guardian 
 taking the precaution of turning the key upon 
 me, that I could scarce keep awake long enough 
 to pull off my shoes, and I tumbled clothed into 
 bed, where I fell instantly into a sound sleep.
 
 Chapter III The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales 
 
 IT was nigh ten o'clock ere my guardian, 
 spruce and fresh after all the rigours of 
 the journey, conducted me downstairs that 
 morning. I had made a makeshift toilet, from 
 a ewer of water and a jack towel, ere I dressed, 
 but I was yet heavy of head maybe from the 
 fumes of the brandy and weary from the 
 miles we had covered the day before. We made 
 our way into the kitchen ; it seemed to pass as 
 ordinary in the inn ; and on the table a meal 
 was ready for us. Of my friend the landlord 
 I saw no sign ; and well I guessed that the little 
 woman who curtseyed a welcome to us had 
 dislodged him from his warm quarters by the 
 fire. She was Quakerish and prim, her kersey 
 gown covered by a white apron, a stiff mob 
 cap on her neat hair ; she had a pinched 
 white face, and a thin nose tipped frostily, 
 a cunning bird-like manner of perking her 
 head aside, while she regarded us with quick 
 black eyes. The scent of coffee, and hot rolls, 
 set on the hearth, with a platter of fried fish, 
 was welcome to me on the chill October morning. 
 My guardian bowed in response to the land- 
 lady's curtsey and wished her " good morning." 
 
 24
 
 The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales ' 25 
 
 She paused to regard him with her head cocked 
 on one side, but beyond the merest movement 
 of her lips she made him no response. Indeed, 
 though we had her husband's word for it 
 that she had a tongue, and plied it to his dis- 
 comfiture, she might have been a mute, as she 
 waited on us at breakfast, pouring out coffee, 
 serving us with fish, rolls and butter. My 
 guardian was abstracted and moody, and steal- 
 ing a look from time to time at him, I saw that 
 his brows were bent, almost to the exclusion 
 of his little eyes ; he gave me not a word, and 
 he ate an indifferent meal, but he drank cup 
 after cup of coffee as though parched with 
 thirst. For myself, I had good cause for 
 contemplation, in apprehension of my lot with 
 Mr. Gandy at the Black House, over and above 
 all in the question that was constant with me 
 who was I, and how had I passed from my 
 parents' care to the charge of Mr. Pounds ? 
 I went by the name of James Thorne ; of my 
 parentage I had no inkling except that Miss 
 Lavinia had pronounced me on occasion 
 ' Spawn of the Devil ' ; and that her brother 
 in his cups that night had declared my father 
 to be a rogue, mercifully underground. Nor 
 was there any one save Pounds and his sister 
 of whom I might pursue my questioning ; 
 no servant, for by the acidity of her tongue 
 Lavinia could attach no retainer to her, and the 
 service of the house, while I had lived in it, 
 had been carried out by a succession of young 
 women. Indeed, I was induced to the belief 
 that my very curiosity my questioning of
 
 26 The Black House 
 
 Pounds and Lavinia and their kinsman Rigg 
 had confirmed my guardian in his purpose of 
 placing me with Mr. Gandy that I might em- 
 barrass him no further with my interrogations 
 and the chance of discovery when he was in 
 his cups. At times, seeking ever to solve the 
 secret of my birth, I would lie for hours in my 
 bed striving to compel my mind back to any 
 recollection of the time before I came into 
 the care of Pounds. I could recollect nothing, 
 beyond playing as a tiny child in the weedy 
 garden at his house, or in the chill kitchen, 
 apprehensive lest Lavinia's wrath should not 
 spend its force on the head of the kitchen 
 wench for the time, but descend on me, and 
 my body suffer for it. Companions I had none, 
 save Rigg's precious pair a girl older than 
 myself, and a snivelling brat of a like age to 
 mine, for both of whom, as patterned upon 
 their parent, I had a profound dislike. Such 
 tenderness as I had known I had experienced 
 from the kitchen wenches, one good-humoured 
 girl in particular, who would spare for me the 
 parings of her larder, till Miss Lavinia's dis- 
 covery led to her dismissal. Of books my 
 guardian possessed a store scandalous ro- 
 mances for the most, I fear whereof I read 
 my fill, when the eyes of the she- dragon were 
 off me ; and from such stuff I had at least 
 acquired a distorted knowledge of the world, 
 and a certain dim understanding of the lot 
 of such as I was, having no father to whom to 
 point. Indeed, my understanding had checked 
 me in a measure from questioning my guardian
 
 The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales ' 27 
 
 lest the answer should mean shame to me ; 
 nor was I able to put from my mind the recol- 
 lection of a furtive conversation between a 
 kitchen-maid and a butcher, he asking, ' Who's 
 the boy ? ' and she answering, ' Some poor 
 brat. The least asked the better. Not the 
 
 Cat's, anyways ' she being under notice 
 
 of dismissal at the time and venomous to 
 Miss Lavinia. 
 
 I had finished my breakfast, and awaited my 
 guardian's permission to leave the table for 
 the fireside, when the landlord strode into the 
 room with a load of logs which he dropped on 
 the pipe-clayed hearth with a loud clatter. 
 Instantly the quiet woman woke to stormy 
 life. 
 
 ' What's this ? ' cried she shrilly. ' A fiingin' 
 logs down on a clean hearth ; an' undoin' all 
 the work I've been slavin' at since break o' 
 day. Sayin' nothin' o' disturbin' the gentle- 
 man at his breakfast.' 
 
 ' If I didn't bring 'em,' he protested, quailing 
 before her, though her mob cap was barely 
 as high as his shoulder, ' you'd be namin' me 
 all the idle villains for lettin' the fire go down. 
 There's no understandin' you ! ' 
 
 ' Understanding ! You with your addle-pate. 
 You ! Ain't I sick an' tired of tellin' you that 
 I won't have logs thrown down on the hearth, 
 when I've been a cleanin' and a cleanin.' ? Is 
 it any use my speakin' to you ? ' 
 
 ' Come to think of it, ' he answered, scratching 
 his towsled head, ' I don't believe it is.' 
 
 ' Ugh get along with you ! ' cried she
 
 28 The Black House 
 
 shrilly. ' I've no patience with you.' And 
 as he quailed before her, she whisked out of 
 the room, banging the door with as loud a 
 crash as the fall of logs on the hearth. 
 
 ' My friend,' said my guardian, ' you have 
 my sympathy." 
 
 ' Thank 'ee, sir. ' 
 
 ' But 'twill keep 'twill keep ! Mr. Candy's 
 establishment is about four miles from here 
 if I remember.' 
 
 ' Four miles as the crow flies. Only you 
 can't fly. A rough track, sir. Your carriage 
 could never make it.' 
 
 ' Which means, I suppose, that I've to hire 
 a vehicle from you ? ' 
 
 ' No, sir, I've only got an open cart, and it's 
 a chill morning and like to rain. ' 
 
 ' Still, you can drive me and my ward up 
 thither, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Jim, the hostler, can drive you, sir.' 
 
 ' Well, please give him the order. I propose 
 to be well on the way back to London by night. 
 And thanks to my lying in bed late it's nigh 
 noon now.' 
 
 The landlord, nodding and giving me another 
 of his queer looks, withdrew. My guardian, 
 pulling his chair up to the fire, sat gloomy and 
 abstracted paying no heed to me and giving 
 me not a word not seeming to hear me, when, 
 purposing to question him of his plans how 
 long I was to remain with Mr. Gandy at the 
 Black House I called him by name. While 
 so we sat in silence, there came a stir at the 
 door, and into the room there strode a gentle-
 
 The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales ' 29 
 
 man whose dress and demeanour captured my 
 attention instantly. He was, I judged, not 
 yet forty years of age, though his handsome 
 face, fresh now from the weather, was masked 
 with hard lines about the mouth ; and his fine 
 eyes were bloodshot. He had the merest 
 strip of black whisker, his black hair curled 
 under the brim of his high hat ; the cut of his 
 brown riding coat showed the lines of his 
 strong vigorous body ; his legs were cased in 
 white buckskins, and glittering black tops. 
 He carried a gold- headed hunting crop in his 
 gloved hands. And this gentleman swaggering 
 in, bold and confident, stood suddenly stock- 
 still, as his eyes fell on my guardian, and to me 
 it seemed that for a moment the colour went 
 out of his face, to return suffusing it scarlet. 
 My guardian had turned in his chair at his 
 entry, and now had started to his feet ; so the 
 pair of them stood staring the one at the other 
 neither taking pleasure at the meeting. From 
 my guardian the gentleman's look passed 
 to me, and when the fine eyes caught mine, 
 it seemed to me that he gave me a look of hatred, 
 ere they flashed from mine back to my 
 guardian. 
 
 ' So, Pounds/ said the gentleman angrily, 
 ' you're here ! ' 
 
 ' As you see, sir I and the boy. ' 
 
 ' The boy ! Whose boy ? Come, Pounds, 
 what's this trick you're playing me ? ' 
 
 ' Mr. Corbe,' said my guardian, ' I'm playing 
 you no trick, I promise you/ 
 
 ' Then what the deuce are you doing here ? '
 
 30 The Black House 
 
 My guardian cast a swift glance at me, 
 sitting staring from the settle, at the arrogant 
 angry gentleman and at him, finger to lips, 
 his fat red face revealing his trepidation. 
 
 ' Mr. Corbe,' said Pounds, ' I assure you I 
 am not neglectful of your interests in London ; 
 my clerk can do all that is needed. I am 
 here out of town with the intention of putting 
 my young ward this lad here to school 
 with my friend, Mr. Simon Gandy. With 
 whom, Mr. Corbe/ and at this it seemed to me 
 his lips curled back malevolently ' you your- 
 self may chance to have some passing acquaint- 
 ance. ' 
 
 I did believe from the false ring in his voice 
 that he lied, and that he purposed to prevent 
 further outburst from the gentleman within 
 my hearing. Mr. Corbe's laughter in answer 
 seemed to me to ring as falsely. 
 
 ' With Gandy at the Black House ! Oh, 
 you're a rare dog, Pounds, a rare dog ! 
 Do you know the gentleman with whom you're 
 placing the young dog ? ' 
 
 ' To be sure, Mr. Corbe, I know him well. 
 A disciplinarian of the old school under 
 whose charge this promising young gentleman 
 is not likely long to stray from paths of recti- 
 tude. D'you see, Mr. Corbe, this fellow was 
 getting out of hand at my house in London ? 
 We are here. And on our way to Mr. Gandy's 
 scholastic establishment for the sons of 
 gentlemen. ' 
 
 ' As you're here, Pounds,' returned the gentle- 
 man ungraciously striving it seemed to retain
 
 The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales ' 31 
 
 command over his passion, ' I'll have a word 
 with you now if you can spare me the time ' 
 with a sneer on his lips. 
 
 ' I am always at your service, Mr. Corbe, ' 
 purred Mr. Pounds, and with a wave of his 
 hand to me, ' Wait outside, boy ! ' 
 
 I went wondering not so much at the 
 behaviour of the gentleman towards my guar- 
 dian as for his knowledge of me shown 
 clearly in the look he gave me in his perturba- 
 tion at the sight of me ; most for the odd 
 sense of his familiarity to me. To my certain 
 knowledge I had never set eyes on him at my 
 guardian's house yet in his handsome insolent 
 face, in his bearing, there was something 
 strangely familiar to me. And, as I passed out, 
 hearing him mutter angrily to Pounds, I 
 wondered whether, indeed, this should be a 
 kinsman of mine. Black curling hair, and 
 mine was black and curling ; strong body 
 mine was strong for all my scanty rationing 
 under Miss Lavinia's housekeeping. I would 
 have given much I would have risked the 
 cruellest flogging to have sneaked back and 
 heard what passed between the two ; but that 
 in the stable yard the landlord and his men 
 were busied harnessing a lean horse to an open 
 cart in readiness for our journey up to the 
 Black House, which, as I assumed from the con- 
 versation between my guardian and the land- 
 lord, was situated high on the cliffs. I had not 
 been wrong in my belief that the cliffs went 
 high above the village. As I strolled forth 
 in the pale sun leaking through the sea fog
 
 32 The Black House 
 
 having no mind to stay for a word with the 
 innkeeper and out under the archway into 
 the cobbled street, I saw that the village was 
 set in a deep break between the cliffs, cut out 
 I took it, by the waters from land and sea. 
 A stream flowed seawards nigh the inn door, 
 and the few houses forming the village - 
 fishers' cots for the most were lined on the 
 terrace of rock on either side of its bed ; at 
 their backs the cliffs stood high. The road 
 by which we had come through the night 
 passed away through reed- grown marshes ; 
 seawards a little jetty extended from the 
 beach ; out on the waters, whereon the sun, 
 as the mist parted, fell with a myriad of gleaming 
 lights, I could see the sails of a few fishing- 
 boats making home before the breeze. The 
 inn itself was of brick, two stories high the 
 brick crumbling with age, the slates upon the 
 roof moss-grown ; only the sign, it was The 
 Gold Scales, with the name of ' Jonas Wall ' 
 appended, was newly painted. A daub of 
 yellow paint was purposed clearly for the fish 
 with golden scales in truth the artist's skill 
 was such that no one would have made out the 
 purpose of the brush, save for the explanation 
 in his lettering, ' The Gold Scales. ' A rough 
 settle was placed immediately under the sign ; 
 Mr. Corbe's black horse was hitched by its 
 bridle to an iron ring let into the brick. No 
 one was abroad about the inn, though on the 
 seashore below me I could see a little group of 
 fisher folk, and the shrill clatter of women 
 awaiting their men was borne up to me.
 
 The Encounter at ' The Gold Scales ' 33 
 
 Miserably I stood before the inn regarding 
 the fishing village of Corbe with a scant interest ; 
 my thoughts busied with the gentleman, his 
 manner to me, and what now passed between 
 him and my guardian. Yet when he came 
 out presently, and mounted the horse, without 
 giving me look or word he galloped away. 
 While I stared after him, my guardian's voice 
 called after me, ' James James where is the 
 boy ? Oh, you're there, my lad ! We'll be 
 on the way now for Mr. Gandy's.'
 
 Chapter IV The Black House 
 
 THE abstraction which had possessed my 
 guardian from the hour of arrival in 
 Corbe had passed from him, when we set foot 
 with my baggage in the little open cart. It 
 reeked with the smell of fish, and its planks 
 were slippery with scales. Out we clattered 
 from the inn the lean horse proving a strong 
 enough brute, and the driver, a loutish youth, 
 plying the whip so long as we passed over 
 level road. But, when we had crossed the 
 stream, we took a rough track going by a stiff 
 grade till it brought us after an hour's jolting 
 up to the level of the cliff itself. The height 
 was strewn with broken rock much as if 
 piled up by the hands of men ; where a break 
 occurred in this wall I could look out over the 
 sea, blue now, and glittering in the sun, or 
 inland over fen and rolling down. Stretches 
 of grey green reeds and coppice, with a single 
 curl of smoke as the only sign of human habita- 
 tion. The wind swept up from the sea, and 
 buffeted us. To left below us I could hear 
 the roll of the waters, and sometimes a great 
 wave breaking upon the cliffs and shooting 
 high, the spray would blow with the wind on 
 
 94
 
 The Black House 35 
 
 our cheeks, and the sea-fowl flying up before 
 the surge whirl shrieking over our heads. All 
 the while we moved along the cliffs, or dipping 
 down into some hollow crawled slowly up 
 again, my guardian's laughter and his jesting 
 rang in my ear. He had drunk a dram of 
 brandy before we set out, maybe another 
 with the gentleman and his mood was merry. 
 
 ' Happy, James ! ' cried my guardian. ' En- 
 tering into the most joyous time of youth 
 schooldays with young companions all the 
 wisdom of the ages to be unfolded to you by 
 a preceptor learned and sagacious as Rigg was 
 dull and ignorant. Here in this delightful 
 spot ' 
 
 A jolt of the cart, as the wheel struck a stone, 
 almost flung him for the moment from his seat, 
 and I was quit for a time of his mockery and 
 laughter. Our driver all this while had paid 
 us scant heed, centring his attention on his 
 horse, though from time to time, I did believe 
 that he cast sidelong glances at me, and that 
 there was in his regard of me the odd admixture 
 of curiosity and pity that I had noted in Jonas 
 Wall, landlord of 2 he Gold Scales. 
 
 We had been toiling by the road over the 
 cliffs an hour or more ere we came in sight 
 of our destination. The Black House was 
 set in a cup of the cliffs the wall of rock 
 going high above it, and the road leading to 
 its iron gates. I could not conjecture what 
 freak had induced any man to set his dwelling 
 in so lone and almost inaccessible a spot 
 later I was to conjecture that it was but the
 
 36 The Black House 
 
 shred of some old fortress so built ages before, 
 that its occupants might be immune from 
 danger from the dwellers on the lowlands or 
 raiders from the sea. The Black House- 
 in the sunlight it shaped to me as a great building 
 of black blocks of stone black pines about 
 it outbuildings, a meadow of green grass, 
 and a dark tangle of gorse and brushwood 
 fringing the edge of the broken bowl of the 
 cliffs wherein it lay. 
 
 My guardian waved his gloved hand airily 
 towards it. ' Your new home, James,' he said. 
 ' You enter its gates as an unlicked cub. I 
 promise you, you shall leave it as a grown 
 man a man with a most useful knowledge 
 of men and the ways of men. How d'ye like 
 it, James ? ' 
 
 ' More like a prison/ I muttered, ' than 
 Newgate itself.' 
 
 ' James, James, this is prejudice. I fear 
 me I must make you known to Mr. Gandy as a 
 most ungrateful dog beg him for your soul's 
 sake to flog you, until you are grateful to me 
 for all my thought and loving care to you. 
 You grieve me, James.' 
 
 I gave him not a word in answer, as we 
 climbed the last steep grade. At the iron 
 gates rich in scroll and ornate in design our 
 driver leaped down and plucked at the tongue 
 of a bronze bell, to bring some one to admit us. 
 And presently I heard the sound of some one 
 stumping over the stones, and I made out 
 peering through the iron at us a most villainous 
 eye. I say a villainous eye, for the fellow had
 
 The Black House 37 
 
 but one the other had been struck out by 
 a blow as if from a cutlass, which must have 
 bitten deeply into brow and jaw. He was an 
 old man, and clad in loose blue rig of a nautical 
 manner ; he had but one hand, for the left 
 he had an iron hook, with which he attached 
 himself to the gate as a bird to a twig. He was 
 a stout fellow, with a stubbly grey beard on 
 his chin ; his one eye was sea-green ; from 
 under his red cap like a Frenchman's a 
 mass of lank grey hair tumbled about his ears, 
 and these ears were weighted down by a big 
 pair of silver rings. The slash which had struck 
 out an eye, had lent an additional ugliness to 
 his aspect ; his nose, swollen and bulbous, was 
 slightly askew ; his mouth was wide, his lips 
 tobacco stained, and from the constant working 
 of his jaws he mouthed a quid. 
 
 ' Who's there ? ' demanded this pretty gentle- 
 man, ere he set key in the lock. 
 
 ' Gentleman to see your master, Ben,' the 
 driver told him. ' Come, don't keep us waiting 
 all day.' 
 
 ' And what may the gentleman's name 
 be? ' 
 
 ' Mr. Pounds,' my guardian told him. ' Your 
 master's expecting me, my good fellow.' 
 
 Thereat spitting out tobacco juice, the fellow 
 set his key in the lock, and, screeching, the bolts 
 shot back. And the iron gate swung on its 
 hinges, and stepping down my guardian and 
 I passed within the precincts of the Black 
 House. 
 
 Bidding the driver hand my box over to the
 
 38 The Black House 
 
 old man, and to await his return, Mr. Pounds 
 took me by the hand, and led me up towards 
 the front of the house. I noted with some 
 amaze that the place was laid out tastefully 
 enough with a trim lawn of grass, bordered with 
 flower beds, wherein a few rich blossoms yet 
 bloomed, and that the path we trod was strewn 
 with white sea-shingle and shells. None the less, 
 the house, to which a flight of worn stone steps 
 led up, was like a prison with its high frowning 
 front, its door and windows barred with iron. 
 The iron knocker of the door was fashioned 
 grimly as a death's head, and the red rust 
 which ran down from it suggested to me con- 
 gealed drippings of blood. It was rusted so 
 stiffly that when my guardian sought to raise 
 it he failed, so that he must needs rap hard 
 upon the oak with the knob of his cane. The 
 baying of a hound and a woman's shrill voice 
 sounded within ; and the clattering of clogs 
 over the stone ensued. The door, shrieking 
 upon its hinges, opened to us, and a stout, 
 personable woman of middle age looked out 
 on us. She wore a kersey gown and a mob 
 cap, but she had for shawl a swath of some stuff 
 dyed richly with crimson and blue, and this, 
 with the olive colour of her skin, her shining 
 earrings, and her black bold eyes, gave her the 
 appearance of a foreigner. She nodded merely 
 in answer to my guardian's salutation and, 
 bidding us come in, clung till we had passed 
 her to the collar of the great hound muzzled, 
 yet growling menace to us. The closing of the 
 door left us momentarily in darkness, but to
 
 The Black House 39 
 
 our right a door opening, a tall figure appeared 
 in welcome. 
 
 ' Mr. Pounds, and young sir/ said a deep, 
 rich voice, ' you are very welcome. This way, 
 if you please.'
 
 Chapter V Mr. Simon Gandy 
 
 MY guardian responding heartily, ' Ah, 
 my dear Gandy ! ' propelled me for- 
 ward into a well-lit room. I found myself face 
 to face then with my preceptor. I confess 
 that my first impression astonished me. I had 
 expected to meet some brutal fellow like the 
 one-eyed seaman at the gate. But here before 
 me was a tall, stooping gentleman clad in the 
 neatest of black- with -silken stockings, knee- 
 breeches, and shoes with silver buckles after 
 the manner of the old school. He was of a 
 fine presence ; he was, it might be, three score 
 years and ten ; his features were clearly cut, 
 and dominant, and his face lit by a commanding 
 pair of sea-blue eyes. The bronze of his skin 
 as from tropic suns and sea spray was empha- 
 sized by the silver whiteness of his hair, fall- 
 ing back from his broad forehead, and worn 
 long almost to the shoulders. His neck- 
 cloth was as white as his hair. Beyond the 
 twinkling buckles of his shoes, and a little ivory 
 pendant to his watch-chain it was shaped as a 
 skull, with green stones like emeralds set in 
 the sockets of the eyes 1 he wore no ornament. 
 But when his hand took mine on my guardian's 
 
 40
 
 Mr. Simon Gandy 41 
 
 presentation of me, I found my fingers caught 
 in a grip of steel ; and while he crushed my 
 hand, till it seemed the blood must spurt from 
 beneath the nails, he assured me in a silver 
 tone, all the while smiling on me benignly, ' I 
 am most happy most happy, my dear child, 
 to receive you as my pupil/ Releasing me 
 presently, he closed the door, and bade us be 
 seated. 
 
 If I had not been prepared for the aspect of 
 the man, I was no better prepared for the rich- 
 ness of his room. It was an octagonal cham- 
 ber, the panelled walls lined for the most with 
 cases of books, bound richly and tooled with 
 gold. Before the window looking out on the 
 level lawn was set a great desk, of some dark 
 wood veined finely, and polished till it shone 
 as a piece of tortoiseshell. Mr. Gandy had 
 been writing for papers were set out with 
 quills and sandbox, and an ink-horn this 
 ink-horn with a bronze top fashioned as some 
 sea monster, with little pearls for eyes and 
 tusks of ivory. The polished floor was strewn 
 with a variety of Persian rugs ; the chairs of 
 the dark wood were cushioned with rich stuffs, 
 so that the lights of their gold thread, their 
 rich blues and crimsons, lent a glow of colours 
 to the room. A coal fire burnt on the wide 
 hearth; above the chimney-piece was arranged 
 a collection of glistening knives and swords ; 
 four paintings with the same precious colours 
 as marked cushions and rugs hung on the walls ; 
 from the centre of the ceiling was suspended by 
 thin metal chains a great lamp of cunning work-
 
 42 The Black House 
 
 manship in some fine metal that seemed to me 
 silver, set with yellow glass. But most my 
 eyes were held by a press standing against the 
 wall directly opposite to the hearth. It was a 
 high piece of it, might be eight feet or more, and 
 of a curious blood-coloured wood. Into its sur- 
 face some cunning artisan belike of the East, 
 had wrought a variety of flowers and fruit 
 and little figures of men and monsters all 
 in lacquer, pearl-shell and silver, with a pro- 
 fusion of fanciful imagery of which I had never 
 known the like before. And in the window 
 where the sunlight fell a parrot sat upon a 
 gilded perch, having a thin chain affixed to 
 its leg a big parrot with feathers of as bright 
 a blue and as blood-red as the hues of the silken 
 cushions and the Persian rugs. 
 
 Maybe in my first sight of the room I took 
 in little of the rich furnishings ; but in 
 the days I was to pass in the Black House I 
 came to know it so well, that in my mind it is 
 pictured to the last little figure of pearl shell 
 and silver in the lacquered press For the 
 time, indeed, I recollect that my attention 
 was held by the gentleman who bore the name 
 of Simon Gandy. He bade us be seated so 
 placing us that the light through the diamond- 
 paned windows must have fallen fully on our 
 faces, while he with his back towards the sun- 
 light sat with his face shaded to us. And yet 
 from the shadow I marked his eyes glowing 
 with a curious light that a man sees in the 
 eyes of an animal through the darkness. 
 
 ' Mr. Pounds and you, lad, are very welcome.
 
 Mr. Simon Gandy 43 
 
 Your engagements, Mr. Pounds, will permit 
 of your remaining some days in the house as 
 my guest ? ' 
 
 ' My engagements, sir,' said my guardian, 
 ' call me back to London to-night. You had 
 my letter ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, aye, I had your letter. I thank you for 
 it. I esteem your confidence in me/ 
 
 ' Who should know you better ? ' purred my 
 guardian. 
 
 ' Precisely who ? ' Mr. Gandy returned, 
 with the suspicion of a sneer, I fancied.' 
 
 ' Here is a pupil standing in need of your 
 particular care, sir. A headstrong and undisci- 
 plined fellow ' 
 
 ' Would you prejudice me against my 
 pupil ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, no, the lad's well enough. A little 
 wholesome correction, and I promise you he'll 
 prove tractable. Make a scholar of him, sir 
 don't spare the birch or cane so that you make 
 a scholar of him.' \ 
 
 ' And to what end, sir ? What's your pur- 
 pose with him ? ' His question was put sim- 
 ply and in the silver tone that he had employed 
 throughout our interview with him. 
 
 My guardian seemed to suspect an inner 
 meaning in the question, if I might judge by 
 his discomposure, and by his answering testily, 
 ' You had my letter, sir ? ' 
 
 ' I repeat I had your letter. I was unable 
 to judge from it whether you had formed any 
 clear purpose regarding the lad. With what 
 object I was to have charge of him. To what
 
 44 The Black House 
 
 I was to the best of my poor ability to shape 
 his mind.' 
 
 He appeared to take a bitter amusement 
 from my guardian's embarrassment. The ghost 
 of a smile flitted across his lips. 
 
 ' A liberal education, ' pronounced Mr. Pounds, 
 ' is a qualification for any career.' 
 
 ' You honour me, sir, by your reliance in 
 my poor powers.' He bowed his head politely 
 to my guardian. ' A liberal education. An 
 education that may make him an ornament 
 to the Bar a successor to yourself, sir though 
 an unworthy one. Or, again if the lad in- 
 cline to an adventurous calling a knowledge 
 of navigation so far as a landsman may ac- 
 quire that knowledge. A year or so and the 
 lad shall qualify for ' 
 
 ' Execution Dock ! ' 
 
 My guardian and I started in our chairs. A 
 grating, rasping voice, with a devil of malice 
 in it or so it seemed to me. And on its 
 gilded perch the parrot, rocking to and fro on 
 its chained leg, shook with uncanny laughter. 
 Mr. Gandy was imperturbable. 
 
 ' Not an omen, my young friend,' he said 
 smoothly. ' I would have said a midshipmite. 
 My bird does you and me an injustice.' 
 
 And ' Execution Dock ! Execution Dock ! ' 
 shrieked the parrot. I saw that my guardian 
 had not recovered from the shock of the bird's 
 interruption. His face was pasty grey ; his 
 fingers clutching the knob of his cane, twitched 
 as they had twitched when I had questioned 
 him that night, and he had spilled his snuff.
 
 Mr. Simon Gandy 45 
 
 Mr. Gandy 's observant eye noted my guar- 
 (lian's discomposure, as I noted it. Rising 
 from his chair he was a six-foot figure of 
 a man, I saw he caught the bell-rope and 
 rang. ' You'll take refreshment, Mr. Pounds,' 
 said he, ' your drive over the stones from Corbe 
 has shaken you.' 
 
 ' Nay, I'll do well enough,' my guardian 
 muttered. 
 
 ' A glass of "wine a sup of brandy ? ' 
 
 ' As you will, sir thank you ! ' 
 
 The serving woman answering the bell, he 
 gave her instructions in a low tone all 
 the while the parrot on its perch shook with 
 demoniacal laughter. 
 
 ' Mr. Gandy,' said my guardian, as my pre- 
 ceptor resumed his seat, ' I'll have a word with 
 you alone, before I return.' 
 
 ' You'll dine with me, sir ? ' 
 
 ' As I say, I'm for London to-night thank'ee. 
 Maybe you'll make the lad known to his com- 
 panions.' 
 
 ' Surely, when you've refreshed yourself. My 
 bird, I fear, has startled you.' 
 
 ' I confess I was not expecting it. You 
 brought it back with you from a voyage ' 
 
 Mr. Gandy, sitting in his black chair, took 
 a grim pleasure, or I misjudged him, from my 
 guardian's discomfiture. ' I bought him for 
 a dollar in Vera Cruz,' he answered, ' Of a 
 Spanish seaman. He has small conversation. 
 " Execution Dock " with which he startled you, 
 I fear, is his staple remark. The fellow hath a 
 very devil. What should have been his his-
 
 46 The Black House 
 
 tory I find it amusing to conjecture from his 
 speech. I take it he frequented evil company. 
 " Execution Dock," a few oaths, and a smat- 
 tering of Spanish and the talk of English sea- 
 men ; his years I estimate them at a cen- 
 tury. What may those wicked little eyes of 
 him in their blue wrinkles have looked upon ? 
 Swamp, and forest the green forest of Yucatan, 
 maybe for I tell you but my fancy ! And 
 brought down by a shot from a fowling piece- 
 he hath a damaged wing or by an Indian's 
 arrow. And, maybe, sold to a rogue, a foul- 
 mouthed, blasphemous fellow, and on some 
 ship may it not have flown the Jolly Roger ? 
 My young friend ' (addressing me), ' have you 
 fancy enough to picture the ship's company- 
 cargo for Execution Dock, and fit to hang 
 there as cut-throats should ? I tell you, Mr. 
 Pounds, listening to this bird I do picture 
 the Main the blue of it, the gold sun of its 
 sky, and the great gold moon that lights its 
 sea by night. And I picture me a ship of evil 
 built for swiftness, as a bird of prey is fashioned. 
 And I see the decks of it I smell the reek of 
 the pitch, the very sweating bodies. I see the 
 fellow at the wheel, the rogues who dice and 
 shufHe the cards, and quarrel for the stakes. 
 The stakes gold coins and silver seeming to 
 me stained with the one blood red ! Blood- 
 that the red sunset pours into the sea ! Blood, 
 that has run upon those very decks ! And my 
 parrot with his blood-red plume shrieking 
 as he shrieked his omen " Execution Dock ! " 
 ' Execution Dock ! ' cried the parrot, and
 
 Mr. Simon Gandy 47 
 
 again my guardian, who through this long 
 harangue had sat biting his nails in bitter dis- 
 taste for the theme while I remained intent 
 and wondering started again from his seat. 
 
 Smiling that odd smile of his, Mr. Gandy pro- 
 ceeded. ' This ship those rogues this bird ! 
 A choice associate for honourable men, and an 
 ingenuous youth ! ' 
 
 ' Slit his throat ! ' shrieked the parrot. ' Ha ! 
 Ha! Ha!' 
 
 ' Here is the evidence,' said Mr. Gandy 
 smoothly, ' that this bird has frequented the 
 company of evil-doers. That his neck should 
 have been wrung with the rogues whose part- 
 ner in crime he was turned off years since, 
 I pray, at Execution Dock ! ' 
 
 Shrieked the bird instantly, ' Execution Dock ! 
 Execution Dock ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! '
 
 Chapter VI I am Enrolled a Scholar 
 
 THE foreign-looking woman returning bore 
 with her a bronze tray with a decan- 
 ter of green glass, and two goblets of yellow 
 crystal. Entering noiselessly, setting the tray 
 down noiselessly, she withdrew without word. 
 My guardian, while Mr. Gandy poured wine 
 into two of the glasses no doubt accepting it 
 that as a scholar of his I should not expect to 
 take wine with him mumbled that the woman 
 was well schooled. 
 
 ' Is this not a scholastic establishment ? ' 
 says Mr. Gandy, handing Mr. Pounds his glass. 
 
 ' I warrant that before I set eyes again on 
 my young friend here/ cries my guardian, 
 laughing, ' you'll have him as well disciplined.' 
 
 ' If he need it aye ! ' affirms Mr. Gandy, 
 lifting his glass. ' Yet I think the lad will 
 prove tractable. Mr. Pounds, your very good 
 health.' 
 
 ' Mr. Gandy, yours J ' and sips his wine with 
 a very nice appreciation of its value. ' Your 
 cellar, sir, is worthy of a gentleman of your 
 discernment. A rare wine ! The sun's in it ! ' 
 
 ' A Spanish wine ! I hesitate to tell you 
 its age, Pounds, lest you think I lie. Yet I do 
 
 48
 
 / am Enrolled a Scholar 49 
 
 assure you the grapes were crushed a hundred 
 years since ; that this precious juice went 
 overseas with a Viceroy, whose throat was 
 never to be warmed with it/ 
 
 ' And why ? ' 
 
 ' I take it, ' smiled Mr. Gandy, ' that it passed 
 from Spanish hands into the keeping of some 
 Englishman. Nay, I'll not trouble you with 
 its history. Your glass is empty. Permit me ! ' 
 And filled it till the bubbles floated from the 
 brim. 
 
 Assuredly it was a very precious, potent 
 wine for my guardian, seasoned toper as 
 was he, flushed with its magic. I perceived 
 the chill amusement on Mr. Candy's face. 
 And while plying Mr. Pounds with its vintage, he 
 himself drank no more than the one glass. And, 
 as if marking what its influence was on my 
 guardian, he says, ' You require a word with 
 me in private, Pounds, ere you take your 
 leave ? ' 
 
 ' As you will, ' replies Pounds thickly. 
 
 ' As you will/ returns Gandy smoothly. 
 ' Touching your plans for this young gentle- 
 man your inclination his for his future in 
 life. Or maybe the lad is a child of fortune, 
 and you will have him trained solely in the 
 humanities and ' 
 
 ' Fortune ! ' grunted Pounds sullenly. ' For- 
 tune ! I tell you, Gandy, the lad's a charge on 
 me/ 
 
 ' I compliment you, sir, on your benevolence. ' 
 
 ' And I care not how you shape his mind, 
 providing only you flog the devil out of him ! '
 
 50 The Black House 
 
 1 Nay, sir,' protests Gandy, smiling, ' that is 
 not my method ! ' 
 
 ' Slit his throat ! ' croaked the parrot. ' Ha ! 
 Ha! Ha!' 
 
 ' Bird,' said Gandy, ' you're not kind. I 
 assure you, Pounds, that the rod hath little 
 part in my curriculum.' 
 
 'Egad,' growls Pounds, 'you've changed, 
 Sim Gandy.' 
 
 ' I'm wiser, sir,' retorted Mr. Gandy, with 
 sudden compression of his brows and curl of 
 lip. And I saw the light burn from his eyes, 
 as he looked fixedly upon my guardian. 
 
 My guardian, though flushed with the wine, 
 seemed to realize Mr. Gandy 's displeasure. 
 For, muttering, ' I did but jest, sir,' he leaned 
 forward, and unsteadily replaced the glass upon 
 the tray. ' I waste your time,' he said then. 
 ' A word or two with you alone.' 
 
 ' Will you take your leave of your charge 
 now ? ' asked Mr. Gandy. ' If so I'll con- 
 duct him to his schoolfellows.' And rose, and 
 opening the door, stood apart from us, as if to 
 give us privacy. 
 
 My guardian looked upon me with his malevo- 
 lent little blood-shot eyes. ' Well, you dog,' 
 says he, ' well ? You'll be a good lad, if you're 
 wise. Or you'll pay for it, I promise you. 
 What, no tears no grief at parting from me ? ' 
 
 ' I'm glad,' I whispered, hating him, yet 
 apprehensive of Mr. Gandy. 
 
 Whereat my guardian scowled an instant 
 at me, then burst into a roar of laughter. ' At 
 least you're honest, you dog,' cried he. ' We're
 
 / am Enrolled a Scholar 51 
 
 well rid of you Lavinia and I, and you of us 
 hey ? ' prodding me with his cane. 
 
 ' Aye, well rid ! ' I muttered, scowling at 
 him. * 
 
 He sat eyeing me furiously awhile, Mr. 
 Gandy all this time waiting in silence. He 
 made as if to stretch out his hand, then changing 
 his mind, scowled blackly at me, and cutting 
 at my legs with his cane, muttered, ' Well, go, 
 you rogue ! Go ! Take him away, Gandy ! ' 
 
 And as I drew towards the door, Mr. Gandy 's 
 hand grasped mine, not with that steel grip 
 of his, though firmly enough, and drew me 
 from the room. As the door shut upon me 
 liking my company and the sinister nature of 
 Black House ill enough I heard the parrot's 
 laughter combining with my guardian's chuck- 
 ling. 
 
 ' This way, James, ' said Mr. Gandy, leading 
 me down a dim passage, wherein I could make 
 out only the dark shape of a press, and a clus- 
 ter of cloaks hanging like dead men from the 
 wall. Under my feet I felt a soft carpet, until 
 he led me down a flight of steps across a paved 
 court, lit by a high skylight of glass, and up 
 to a heavily- studded door. Turning the key 
 left in the lock, Mr. Gandy propelled me for- 
 ward into a great room panelled and floored 
 in black timber, and barely furnished with a 
 high desk and stool, as if for a pedagogue, a 
 long desk below it with a form for the scholars, 
 a big globe of the world on a bronze stand, many 
 books on a shelf, a settle before the hearth 
 piled with brush and logs ready for lighting.
 
 52 The Black House 
 
 Above the high desk was suspended with 
 chains from a bolt in the oaken beam a lamp of 
 similar curious workmanship to the lamp in 
 Mr. Gandy's study. The room was lit by a 
 wide window, extending for half the space of 
 the room, bars before it, a carved window-seat 
 of black oak below it. Leaning on the 
 window-sill with his back towards us, and 
 staring out over the sea for I could make 
 out that this window immediately overlooked 
 the sea was a lad of about my own years. 
 He paid us no heed on our entry, seeming deaf 
 or sullen, until Mr. Gandy, stalking forward, 
 smacked him soundly on the seat of his panta- 
 loons, whereat, shooting round, and scowl- 
 ing, he stood staring at me his hand clapped 
 to the smart. He was a fair fellow, his yellow 
 hair tumbled over his brow. He was stoutly 
 built, with a handsome face for all the scowl 
 upon it. He wore nankeen breeches, a blue 
 jacket, a cambric shirt, with a swath of blue 
 silk at his loose collar. 
 
 ' I fear,' said Mr. Gandy smoothly, ' you're 
 an idle fellow. I leave you at your books and 
 find you staring out to sea. And your thoughts 
 wandering away from conjugations to the 
 Azores. Eh, Robert ? Howbeit, here is a 
 companion for you, Robert ; you'll make him 
 very welcome, will you not, lad?' all this 
 with an urbanity that seemed to sit naturally 
 upon him. ' Your new companion's name is 
 James Thorne. James, this dear lad is Robert 
 Orme. Shake hands, young gentlemen ! ' 
 
 I gave Robert Orme my hand gladly, liking
 
 / am Enrolled a Scholar 53 
 
 the bold looks of him for all the scowl upon his 
 face. Aye, and his hand gripped mine, and for 
 the first time in my life I do avow it I felt 
 in his warm grip the sense of comradeship, by 
 which the future kindness of any kitchen 
 wench to me as a little child were, to be sure, as 
 nothing. If Robert Orme were to be the pat- 
 tern of my schoolfellows, I should be happy 
 even in the Black House for all the menace 
 that had oppressed me from my approach to 
 it. 
 
 Says Mr. Gandy, smiling upon us with appro- 
 val, ' I'll leave you together for the improve- 
 ment of your acquaintance, lads, while, James, 
 I take leave of your guardian.' 
 
 And, leaving us, locked the door upon us, 
 while, shy enough, I stared at the lad leaning 
 against the window-seat. At the clash of the 
 key in the lock, young Orme gripped me by 
 the arm with some show of excitement, and 
 says he, ' Why, are you to be kept here, too ? 
 With me.' 
 
 ' To be sure,' I answered him wondering. 
 ' My guardian has brought me here to school.' 
 
 ' To school ! ' He laughed at me. ' School ! 
 Here ! Why, is the old villain turning school- 
 master in truth and in fact ? ' 
 
 I stared at him. ' Isn't this a school ? ' 
 I asked. ' Aren't there other scholars here ? ' 
 
 ' Devil a one ! ' says he, laughing. ' I'm the 
 only other scholar at your service. And I've 
 been here these six months, and like to go mad 
 for want of company. Not accounting Gandy 
 or the woman Keziah, or the one-eyed hang-
 
 54 The Black House 
 
 dog, Ben. Oh, I warrant you, I'm glad -to 
 have your company. Here in this prison ! ' j 
 
 ' Prison ! ' faltered I. 
 
 ' What else ? I take it my saintly kinswoman 
 paid a fat fee to Gandy to have me out of her 
 way. And that fat fee out of my patrimony, 
 I promise you. But, young Jim, why are you 
 here ? Your guardian, said you ? Paying 
 for you out of his trust, while he spends the 
 remainder. Is that it ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know/ I answered dully. ' I heard 
 him say a while since to Mr. Gandy he paid 
 for me out of his own pocket.'
 
 Chapter VII Of Mr. Candy's Establishment 
 
 GANDY ! ' he said, muttering low, as if 
 for fear lest the woman Keziah should 
 be eavesdropping. ' He's an odd fellow. I take 
 it from his speech and from that macaw of 
 his he's been buccaneer, pirate, the Lord 
 knows what in his day. Turned schoolmaster 
 in his old age, gad, Jim, he's a scholar for 
 sure, but no schoolmaster, I promise you. 
 Jim,' whispering, ' I take it, from what I've 
 seen not that I've been permitted to see 
 much the fellow makes a fat living from 
 French brandies and laces and what not that 
 never paid duty. Jim, beneath this place 
 under the floor of my bed-chamber you'll 
 see it soon enough there's sure a cavern 
 maybe going out through the cliffs pinto the 
 sea. Belike, where the cliff parts on the road 
 to the Black House. I've sounded the floor 
 with my boot, and sure it rings hollow. Aye, 
 and at night I've seen flares burning out at 
 sea. And marked a light winking from the 
 cliffs down there ! ' 
 
 Leaning with me through the bars before 
 the open window, I saw then that the wing 
 of the Black House from which we stared looked 
 
 55
 
 56 The Black House 
 
 sheer down the cliff ; indeed, with the swell 
 that rolled in sullenly from the sunlit waters, 
 great rollers broke upon its base, and the fine 
 salt spray was blown up to the very ledge. 
 Orme was pointing to a break in the cliffs 
 far down to our left, where it seemed to me 
 that the sea washed as if into a cavern, for the 
 sound like a mighty drumming came thence 
 above the roll of the breakers beating on the 
 rocks below us, and above the shrilling of the 
 whirling sea- fowl. 
 
 ' A smuggler/ said I, wondering the more. 
 ' And why are you and I in this house ? ' 
 
 ' Jim, mine's a tedious story. I'll tell it 
 you later. But this at least I believe, that 
 Gandy's an odd mixture of adventurer and 
 scholar. Maybe, the fellow who brought me 
 to this pass, and maybe your guardian, have 
 some knowledge of Gandy's calling past and 
 present, and have a hold on him to correspond. 
 Did you hear that parrot of his screech " Exe- 
 cution Dock ! " and croak like a bird of ill 
 omen ? ' 
 
 ' I heard him, yes. ' 
 
 ' That's a favourite cry of his " Execu- 
 tion Dock." And there they hung pirates. 
 And Mr. Gandy, scholar and smuggler, has 
 been freebooter. Our friends have a know- 
 ledge of this, so our friends have an influence 
 over Gandy. And, further, I believe that Gandy 
 as a scholar has a fancy for playing school- 
 master. Imparting his knowledge to such as 
 you and me.' 
 
 ' And flogging ? ' asked I.
 
 Of Mr. Candy's Establishment 57 
 
 ' Nay/ he answered, laughing, ' he has no 
 fancy for the rod. He's flogged me only once 
 since I was brought to his house.' 
 
 ' What was that for ? ' asked I. 
 
 ' For no more than a conjugation/ he an- 
 swered, grinning. ' A matter of book-learn- 
 ing. As might any schoolmaster. No, Jim, 
 Gandy is tolerable enough, I promise you. 
 But its being imprisoned in this place, and 
 having no more freedom than the space of 
 these cliffs. Until you came, the loneliness ! ' 
 
 ' I've been alone all my life/ I said. ' I was 
 brought up by Pounds and his shrew sister. 
 But, Rob, what's the purpose of our being 
 brought here ? ' 
 
 ' In my case, I think, as I've told you, Jim, 
 that my kinswoman might have me out of 
 the way and spend my patrimony. My father 
 was of John Company and wealthy. And this 
 kinswoman, a cousin, was sought in mar- 
 riage by as devout and mean a fellow as she 
 was a devout and mean spinster. I warrant 
 the banns have long been called aye, and the 
 knot tied between Elizabeth Orme and John 
 Eggleston, trustee with her of my father's 
 East India stock in keeping for my father's 
 son, Robert Orme.' 
 
 ' What hold should either have over Mr. 
 Gandy ? ' asked I. 
 
 ' Eggleston had some knowledge of him. 
 Twas he that brought me here. Twas he 
 that talked with Gandy apart, and seemed 
 to bend him to his will, while I waited at 
 the door, out of hearing of what passed
 
 58 The Black House 
 
 between the pair, but understanding how the 
 fellow Eggleston wrought upon Gandy's will. 
 Jim, I've fancied sometimes that Gandy in 
 his old age would have turned virtuous- 
 become schoolmaster indeed planned as 'much, 
 but that those who knew him in his youth, 
 the lawbreakings that were to his account, 
 desertion mutiny, piracy, or what not- 
 determined otherwise for him.' 
 
 ' But what ? ' I persisted, ' is to be the end 
 for us ? 
 
 He flung his head back boldly. ' Jim, 
 does it matter ? ' he asked, and laughed at 
 me. ' Can we avert it ? I'm glad to have you 
 with me, and for the time what else matters ? '
 
 Chapter VIII The Brow of the Cliff 
 
 LYING abed that night with Rob Orme 
 asleep beside me, I found good cause for 
 cudgelling my brains. The question what was 
 the purpose of Mr. Pounds in placing me in 
 the custody of Mr. Gandy at the Black House 
 and the question supreme, who was I, and 
 how came I into the keeping of Josiah and 
 his sister Lavinia ? Rob Qrme, I believed, 
 had afforded me by his story a guidance to the 
 solution of my own mystery. He was in 
 Gandy 's keeping while the executors of his 
 father's will expended his patrimony. And 
 was I in the Black House for similar reason ? 
 And how long should he and I be held prison- 
 ers for prisoners we were, and might not pass 
 beyond the rusted iron gates, though we were 
 free to wander about the cliffs around the 
 Black House at will. 
 
 Having taken leave of my guardian, Mr. 
 Gandy returned to release us from the room 
 wherein he had locked the pair of us. What- 
 ever had passed between him and Mr. Pounds, 
 I saw as he entered, had occasioned him poor 
 pleasure. His face pallid for the most was 
 yet flushed as from a burst of passion, and his 
 
 59
 
 60 The Black House 
 
 blue eyes yet sparkled like a glittering sea. 
 Yet he smiled presently benignly upon the 
 pair of us, and his voice was smooth as he 
 addressed us. 
 
 ' So, lads, you have become acquainted/ 
 said he. ' And are like to be friends. Aye, 
 aye, that's well ! ' 
 
 And approached with that soft catlike walk 
 of his, and put his hands upon our shoulders. 
 ' You may quit your books for the day, Rob 
 Orme/ he said. ' To-morrow, James, you shall 
 start in your pursuit of learning. It cannot 
 be too soon, for the way is long, and life is all 
 too brief. So this afternoon for the open air, 
 and to-morrow for the Latin primer. And 
 maybe the rod, whereon, James, your worthy 
 guardian was so insistent, eh, James? You'll 
 be diligent accordingly, eh ? ' This with his 
 queer smile at me. 
 
 Now, had I not come to the Black House in 
 circumstances ^o strange ; had my guardian 
 not filled my mind with suspicions of Mr. Gandy 
 I must have responded to the beneficence of 
 my preceptor. But, regarding him as no more 
 than my gaoler knowing that in the past 
 he had led the life of an adventurer maybe 
 a freebooter suspecting him from Rob Orme's 
 words of being a smuggler I made him no 
 reply, but hung my head. He chuckled with 
 amusement, and patted my shoulder benevo- 
 lently. 
 
 ' I'll warrant you'll prove diligent/ he said. 
 ' And now, as 'tis well past noon, I take it your 
 stomachs are as empty as the heads of the
 
 The Brow of the Cliff 61 
 
 pair of you. Take your companion down to 
 the kitchen, Rob. Keziah should have a meal 
 prepared for you.' 
 
 Accordingly we got out of the room the 
 two of us leaving him standing at the win- 
 dow, and staring out at the sea. I followed 
 Orme across the court below the schoolrom, 
 and passing with him down a fresh flight of 
 steps, came out with him into a gallery much 
 as an open balcony. It ran the full length of 
 the wing of the house three doors admitting 
 into the dwelling. From it to the right as we 
 clattered along it, I saw that a high tier of 
 steps went down into a grassy space, shut 
 in by a low stone wall ; beyond this the rocks 
 rose terrace by terrace to the summit of the 
 cliff. In the grass cattle and sheep were feed- 
 ing. 
 
 The third door to our left was open, and led 
 into the kitchen a cheery place with just such 
 a provision of bacon and smoked fish as I had 
 seen in the kitchen of The Gold Scales ; just so 
 dazzling a display of brass and pewter ; just 
 such a hearth though, indeed, all this was 
 on a smaller scale. The woman, Keziah, ris- 
 ing from the fireside, where she had been tend- 
 ing the meat upon the spit, stood silently 
 regarding us with no special show of favour 
 on her dark face. Rob Orme, laughing at her 
 sour aspect, clapped her freely on the shoulder 
 with his hand, and said he ' The master says 
 you Ye to serve up your best, Keziah, for this 
 gentleman and myself/ 
 
 A slow smile parted her lips ; and she pointed
 
 62 The Black House 
 
 at me. ' He is to remain here, hey ? ' she 
 asked with an odd inflection. 
 
 ' Why, to be sure ! More company for me, 
 Keziah, and the like for you. What's in the 
 pot ? ' leaning over the fire, and lifting a 
 lid, whereon a most savoury steam came forth. 
 
 ' 'Twill serve, Keziah/ he assured her, sniff- 
 ing appreciatively ; and she, smiling still, 
 signed me to sit down at the kitchen table. 
 She spread a cloth, and set upon it spoons 
 and wooden bowls with a loaf of bread. Tak- 
 ing a ladle then, and rapping at Rob Orme's 
 skull, to dislodge him from the hearth, she 
 lifted off the pot, and filled the bowls with a 
 most appetizing stew. Moreover, as we bent 
 over this provision, she drew us from a barrel 
 a mug of beer apiece, and, while we ate and 
 drank, stood silently regarding us, the smile 
 seeming fixed upon her lips. Rob Orme held 
 the sinister company at the Black House in 
 no sort of awe. As he ate and drank, he rallied 
 her ' Your health, Keziah !> ' with a smack 
 of his lips at his mug of beer . . .' This olla- 
 podrida does you honour, Keziah ! ' and the 
 like. At all of which the silent woman uttered 
 never a word, only smiled immovably. 
 
 And from the very joyous raillery of his, I 
 came to understand the nature of Rob Orme, 
 who could be merry in such a place, and under 
 such custodians, while in London the trustees 
 of his father's estate he had good reason to 
 believe dissipated the fortune that should be 
 his. Sullen he had seemed, when first I clapped 
 eyes on him in the schoolroom, I call it so
 
 The Brow of the Cliff 63 
 
 for want of a better description indeed he 
 told me later that mooning there he felt like 
 going mad for sheer loneliness. Yet my coming, 
 dull companion as I must have been, had put 
 heart into him ; and with me he was hopeful 
 that his life in the mysterious house might 
 yet be tolerable. 
 
 We saw no sign of the one-eyed Ben through- 
 out our meal. He, with Keziah, Rob told me, 
 made up the staff of servants at the Black 
 House ; and for the most was quartered in a 
 little stone cottage nigh the iron gates. ' Well 
 see him soon enough, I promise you/ whispered 
 Rob, when Keziah, stirring up the fire, seemed 
 safe from hearing. Full and hearty from our 
 meal, the pair of us snatching up our caps, were 
 making from the kitchen, when Keziah, darting 
 upon us to stay us, asked shrilly, ' And where 
 would you be going you ? ' 
 
 ' Up the cliffs/ Rob told her. ' We've Mr. 
 Candy's leave. You needn't fear, Keziah/ 
 
 ' Stay here ! ' she ordered us. ' I'll ask him. 
 You stay here ! ' 
 
 ' Ask him ! ' cried Rob indignantly. ' You'll 
 but have to toil upstairs and get no thanks 
 for your pains/ 
 
 She eyed him doubtfully ; but, nodding her 
 head, stood aside, and together we scampered 
 forth. Laughing, Rob led the way across the 
 terrace and down the steps into the meadow 
 caught in the cup of stone. 
 
 ' Have we to ask her/ I queried, ' before we 
 can leave the house ? ' 
 
 ' She's watched me as a cat a mouse/ he
 
 64 The Black House 
 
 answered. ' But that she knows we have no 
 chance of escaping, Ben, and there's no other 
 way out, she'd have loosed the hound ere she'd 
 have let us out, till Gandy directed her. What 
 she's been to Gandy in his heady youth, I'll 
 not guess. The Lord give us charity. But 
 she serves him well, and has a pretty gift for 
 cookery. ' 
 
 ' And the fellow Ben ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' He's cheated the gallows yet,' Rob told 
 me. ' I vow the old dog should have swung 
 years since at Execution Dock. He has the 
 evil eye. Moreover he's threatened to flay me 
 with a rope's end, if I go near the gate. He'd 
 have done so long since but for his dread of 
 Gandy, who retains the sole right of correc- 
 tion. But Gandy 's a schoolmaster, and flogs 
 only as a schoolmaster. Well make up the 
 cliffs, Jim, that you may see what a prison 
 we're in.' 
 
 The steps had brought us down into a stony 
 track that cut the meadow grass. This led 
 us presently to the crumbling wall of loosely 
 piled stone, over which we climbed easily. 
 Thence the track took us by a steep grade up 
 to the brow of the cliff, a stiff climb that 
 breathed me, though Rob climbed it easily, 
 and for all the pounding at my heart and short- 
 ness of breath I must needs keep up with him. 
 The path climbed soon between rough boulders 
 of rock, fretted with the wear of centuries ; 
 and to retain a footing we must needs cling to 
 the stones, and by them draw ourselves higher. 
 But at last, gasping, I stood with Rob on the
 
 The Brow of the Cliff 65 
 
 very brow of the cliff a flat ledge with a pile 
 of stones upon it as if to afford a look-out, or 
 to hold a man, if the gale should strive to beat 
 him down, or daring to glance below him, he 
 should be seized with a vertigo, and pitch into 
 the surge. For before us the cliff went sheer, 
 two hundred and fifty feet if I might guess, 
 into the sea. And the great waters beat upon 
 its base, with the sound of war drums, and as 
 they smote upon it, with so mighty a force that 
 the solid rock seemed to shake, they broke high 
 into the air, and flung up their spray as snow 
 before the autumn wind. The breeze blew 
 stiffly from the sea, ice-cold upon me, sweat- 
 ing from my climb ; flying before it like a 
 monstrous white bird I saw a great ship afar 
 an Indiaman, Rob told me shrieking in my 
 ear, as I clung to the rocks, so that he might 
 be heard above the drums of the sea. The 
 October sun burnt feebly in a clouding sky ; 
 the waters magnified its light in myriad 
 white fires ; and here the sea was blue from 
 the heavens, and there grey from the clouds, 
 and all white-capped, as the breeze momentarily 
 seemed to grow in strength, and sweep up from 
 the south. Sliding down to the shelter of the 
 low wall of rocks and drawing me beside him, 
 Rob Orme pointed down to the Black House 
 immediately below us. For the first time I 
 saw it wholly. Twas a great pile, built it 
 seemed upon a jutting crag, high above the 
 sea. It had the shape of a thick cross and it 
 was fashioned solidly as the cliff itself, from 
 the dark stone piled broken on the cliffs. It 
 
 5
 
 66 The Black House 
 
 was of three stories in height, its many win- 
 dows were barred with iron ; its peaked roof 
 of a black slate. I marked the terrace and the 
 steps that led down to the meadow where the 
 cattle were feeding ; beyond it I saw a line of 
 grass, before the thick stone wall and iron 
 gates shut it in. Below the wall the rock 
 went down a hundred feet or more; up this 
 we had toiled that morning by a zigzag track 
 which scaled it ; across it rose the cliff, 
 not precipitous but steep again ; beyond this 
 occurred the break in the cliff where the sea 
 washed, and by which Rob had surmised the 
 smugglers with whom the master of the Black 
 House had dealings bore in their contraband. 
 Inland, the cliffs fell like a wall, and I saw a 
 great stretch of reedy fenland, rolling up into 
 downs. Afar, it might be four miles off, I 
 could make out the roofs of a house glittering 
 in the sun, and the smoke that blew from a 
 chimney stack. 
 
 ' Whose house is that, d'ye know, Rob ? ' 
 asked I. 
 
 ' Tis Corbe,' he answered. ' Corbe the Manor 
 House. Keziah, when she's been cheerful, has 
 told me that its mistress dwells there a 
 widow, says Keziah. And a proud madam, 
 Keziah has added with a sniff. Corbe 
 the family's lived there for centuries, says she. 
 And maybe built the Black House for a strong- 
 hold. Why, what a task for the King's revenue 
 officers, Jim, if they should ever seek to smoke 
 out Gandy. 'Twould need an army to take ; 
 it would for sure ! '
 
 The Brow of ihe Cliff 67 
 
 At his mention of Corbe I recalled the hand- 
 some gentleman who had looked so blackly on 
 me at 7 he Gold Scales that morning. 
 
 ' There was a gentleman,' said I, ' at the inn 
 this morning. A fellow dressed finely, and 
 black as the Knave of Spades. A fellow whom 
 my guardian knew and addressed as Corbe. 
 Who should he be, Rob, d'ye know ? ' 
 
 ' It should be John Corbe/ he answered. 
 ' Keziah has told me of John Corbe young 
 cousin of the Corbe that's dead. But what 
 should the fellow be doing in Ihe Gold Scales. 
 Says Keziah he games and wastes in London 
 the Regent's his patron. And that his cousin's 
 widow lives lone at Corbe. He's gamed away 
 the rest of his estate, Keziah says.'
 
 Chapter IX Dusk at the Black House 
 
 I REJOICED that by Mr. Candy's direction 
 I was to be quartered for the night with 
 Rob Orme. I promise you that this first com- 
 panionship of my youth had ripened, ere the 
 day was out, into brotherhood. Ere we climbed 
 down the cliff in the late afternoon marking, 
 indeed, Keziah summoning us with a waving 
 cloth from the terrace I had all the history of 
 his life with his sour kinswoman devout as 
 Lavinia she must have been, and as shrewish 
 and he had mine. And much wild conjec- 
 ture had been ours concerning the purpose of 
 our incarceration in Gandy's household, and 
 what the end of it should be. But this at least 
 resulted that his gay confidence in the event 
 lent courage to me, whereas timorous from my 
 life with Mr. Pounds, and from his threats to 
 me, I had imagined that a cruel fate awaited 
 me for my sins. Yet Rob assured me of Mr. 
 Gandy's easy kindness and accomplishments ; 
 and by his speech revealed a grudging liking 
 if not an admiration for him for his erudi- 
 tion, his courtliness, for the very flights of 
 fancy that took him wandering leagues over- 
 seas to the Main where he had sailed and to 
 
 68
 
 Dusk at the Black House 69 
 
 the ports he had frequented in a youth I 
 feared me unregenerate. 
 
 He stood awaiting us upon the terrace, 
 wrapped in a green mantle that fell to his 
 knees and having a black hat pressed down 
 about his ears against the chill of the wind now 
 seeming weighted with rain and blowing up 
 thunderous from the sea. As we toiled up the 
 steps he beckoned to me, and when I stood 
 before him, placed his hand upon my shoulder 
 and commenced to pace with me to and fro, 
 while Rob Orme disappeared within the house. 
 And pacing so, I was subjected by him to a 
 rigorous questioning concerning my knowledge 
 of Greek and Latin and ciphering ; and I fear 
 me in my nervous trepidation of him I made a 
 poorer showing than I need. A full half-hour 
 this inquisition proceeded he mild and grave 
 and courtly, smiling on occasion at my worst 
 flounderings. I tell you I might have been 
 with the most scholarly of masters ; he made 
 no show or sign of the curious mood that was 
 upon him, when first I sat within his presence, 
 and when his speech had conjured up for me 
 the picture of the Main and the West Indies 
 and the ports of the Buccaneers. 
 
 ' Why here,' he said at last as he released 
 me, ' is an unploughed field. Here is a scholar 
 after my own heart. Given diligence, and I 
 shall make a scholar of you, James. Such a 
 scholar as your guardian would have you.' 
 
 In awe of him I hastened to assure him that 
 I should endeavour to please him. 
 
 ' So shall we be friends, James,' he answered
 
 70 The Black House 
 
 smoothly. ' And though the Black House be 
 so lonely a place, and our society small, I feel 
 that the time will not hang heavy on our hands. 
 It is my conception of the store of knowledge 
 a gentleman should have, that he should be 
 acquainted with polite romances and with the 
 verses of our poets. Therefore, I shall place 
 in your hands the works of our English poet 
 Mat Prior. This yon may con, ere you sleep 
 to-night. And for \ .riety a romance of Le 
 Sage Gil Bias done into our own tongue. 
 Now I shall light you to the schoolroom for 
 the stairs are dark and I shall put into 
 your hands these books, when you have supped. ' 
 
 I paid him my thanks, as he led the way along 
 the terrace. In the. gathering gloom of ap- 
 proaching storm, the house was dark within, 
 but groping inside the door, he struck flint on 
 steel, and presently lit a candle, and so pre- 
 ceded me up to the schoolroom. A fire ' burnt 
 high on the hearth, for the dying day was chill, 
 and the draughts blew in by the window, 
 beaten now with the wind. Rob Orme was 
 staring out to sea, but the driving spray from 
 the surge that roared below dulled the pane, 
 and only a grey tumbling expanse seemed to 
 mingle with the lowering clouds could I make 
 out, when Mr. Gandy leaving me at the door 
 I made my way to him. He flung his arm 
 about my shoulders, and in silence the pair 
 of us stood staring out till the dusk falling 
 blotted out the tortured sea. 
 
 Meantime, the logs upon the hearth had 
 burnt up into a roaring fire, the salt in the
 
 Dusk at the Black House 71 
 
 brine-soaked ship's timbers burning blue ; and 
 the heat which the flames gave off inviting 
 us from the chill of the window. We had 
 established ourselves upon the settle, ere Mr. 
 Gandy returned with the books from his 
 library, and a taper, with which he lit the 
 lamp. I saw then how fine a piece of workman- 
 ship was the lamp it was of yellow glass, 
 whence the light from the wicks illumined the 
 dark room with a gold light. 
 
 ' Why, when ye've supped,' said Gandy, 
 benevolently, ' ye should pass a rare evening. 
 Sit ye down, lad '- for I had risen at his entry 
 ' I remark that you have the politeness that 
 Robert lacks. I warrant, too, that you have 
 a love of books that his addle-pate deprives 
 him of. Here is your Gil Bias, and here the 
 works of sweet Mat Prior. I lay them on 
 the desk for you to read them there, lest the 
 fire shrivel the covers.' 
 
 Standing, rubbing his chin, as I thanked him, 
 and regarding us, ' The fireside,' said he, ' is 
 the centre of the English home. The blazing 
 log upon the hearth, the storm without good 
 fellowship within, a glass of wine, a romance 
 of adventure Defoe, Le Sage, or Cervantes 
 and his mad gentleman what should a man 
 want more ? I can imagine the lure of such 
 a hearth as this to draw a man back from 
 wandering up and down the world. What the 
 Main the tropic seas, and the isles that are, 
 like green gems set in silver whereof I told 
 you, James, when the macaw screeched this 
 morn as against this hearth ? Hark to the
 
 72 The Black House 
 
 envious gale without, as if nature hated our 
 peace, and sought to break in on us, and sweep 
 us with the storm. . . .' 
 
 He had spoken with the curious abstraction 
 that had held his thoughts from my guardian 
 and me that morn, when his mind had crossed 
 the leagues of sea for the Spanish Main. Recall- 
 ing now Rob's estimate of him as an ad- 
 venturer grown sated, and in his age harking 
 back to peace in England, and finding none 
 from the influence of men who knew the sins 
 of his youth, and held him to law-breaking, 
 when he fain would live as schoolmaster 
 I did believe that in his words " what the Main 
 and the isles like gems, as against the English 
 hearth on a wild night ? ' he was revealing 
 to us his troubled mind. 
 
 At the window now, and peering out on the 
 troubled night. Lord, how the wind shrieked 
 at him, and the sea roared up, and the driving 
 scud splashed on the leaded panes ! And, 
 suddenly, his laughter rang out above the 
 tumult of the storm wild, maniacal, defiant 
 that brought me trembling to my feet, while 
 stolidly, Rob Orme, who, no doubt, had known 
 him in such a mood before, sat staring at the 
 fire. 
 
 As if in answer to his defiance, the wind 
 blew up with a terrific sound ; with wave and 
 wind all was tumult. As the storm was battering 
 as with mighty hands upon the walls and roofs 
 of the Black House, and rumbling down the 
 chimneys driving out ash and sparks in a 
 yellow whirl into the room, shrieking as souls
 
 Dusk at the Black House 73 
 
 in tor ment Mr. Gandy turned from the window 
 and passed by us to the door. I heard him 
 mutter, ' God, what a night ! Like as the souls 
 of dead men rode on the wind ! ' And I saw 
 that his white face was twisted tortured and 
 that his eyes were set and glassy as a sleep- 
 walker's.
 
 Chapter X Night and Dreams 
 
 ROB ORME, as the door clashed after Mr. 
 Gandy, burst into a peal of laughter. 
 ' What possesses him ? ' cried he ; and, grinning 
 at my scared look, shot out his hand and pulled 
 me down by him. ' Scared you to death, did 
 he ? I tell you, Jim, you'll grow accustomed 
 to his moods. Though, truth to tell, I've never 
 known him in a madder frame than this night 
 nor heard the wind so wild ' shivering a little 
 for all his boldness ; while the wind screamed 
 and pounded over the roofs, as if wild riders 
 swept in from the sea. 
 
 'What you said a while since,' muttered I. 
 ' Striving to live honestly and compelled against 
 his will.' 
 
 ' Quiet, Jim/ he whispered. 'I hear Keziah. 
 She'll hear.' 
 
 Keziah, opening the door quickly, came 
 silently into the room, bearing our supper 
 a steaming broth in bowls, coffee, crisp rolls of 
 bread. She set the tray down on the desk, 
 while Rob Orme, leaping up, gave her greeting. 
 ' Aye, Keziah ! And supper, I'd forgotten both, 
 -so late is she ! ' 
 
 74
 
 Night and Dreams 75 
 
 ' Late ! ' she answered, smiling. ' Then you 
 should be abed, you and he ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, aye, bed ? Does he share the four- 
 poster with me, Keziah ? Or where have you 
 quartered him ? ' 
 
 ' The four-poster, yes ! ' she answered. ' And 
 the master's order is, that you be abed by 
 nine o'clock ! No later ! 'Tis after seven now.' 
 
 ' Bed well, it's reasonable on such a night, 
 Keziah. I'm much afraid we'll not lie quiet. 
 Hark to the wind! I fear 'twill bring the 
 house down about our ears, and fling us all to 
 drown in the sea ! ' 
 
 For all his laughter, I saw her face turn 
 white, and, as involuntarily, she crossed herself. 
 
 ' That will be the end ! ' cries Bob, laughing 
 at her terror. ' If not to-night some night, 
 when we're all lying comfortably abed, with 
 never a thought of our sins.' 
 
 ' If not to-night some night/ I heard her 
 falter ; and suddenly as the wind roared 
 up again, and the voices of the storm cried 
 their menace she clapped her hands to her 
 ears, and scuttled from the room. 
 
 ' Why, they're haunted ! ' cried Rob, laughing 
 still. ' Gandy and she, Jim. 'Tis no school 
 we're in, you and I. We're locked in Bedlam. 
 Bedlam, Jim ! We're madmen, you and I, 
 Jim. We hadn't thought it. That's why 
 we're here. But, Jim, the broth grows cold ; 
 and we need food and drink if we're for hell 
 to-night. Pray, heaven, Keziah wears more 
 than her shift ! ' catching up bowl and spoon 
 and thrusting them into my hands.
 
 76 The Black House 
 
 I confess that I was unable to enter into his 
 mood. The terror of the storm without, which 
 had flung its spell alike over Gandy and Keziah, 
 was on me, too. Yet the rich, hot broth, the 
 bread and the coffee, which we shared, lent 
 me a certain heart again ; aye, and Rob Orme, 
 understanding my mood, quitted his wild 
 raillery, and, sitting by me nigh the fire, assured 
 me that I need have no dread of the storm. 
 For the house, I saw, was built solidly on rock, 
 and had stood secure through the storms of 
 centuries such a storm as now was terrible 
 without. And he told me that his days in the 
 Black House save for his loneliness had 
 passed tolerably enough ; that Mr. Gandy was 
 by no means an ill fellow ; that if he had 
 trounced him on one occasion, he took it that 
 the fault was, after all, his own no less than 
 an incorrigible distaste for the Latin tongue. 
 With our conversation, I had time only to 
 glance at the books which Mr. Gandy had set 
 upon the desk for me, ere the door was pushed 
 open, and the evil face of the one-eyed Ben 
 appeared. He was in an ill mood, for when 
 Rob greeted him cautiously enough, I noted- 
 he muttered, savagely, ' You're to get to bed. 
 An' no palaver ! ' 
 
 Nodding to me, Rob followed, with me after 
 him ; Ben stumping on before us, a lantern 
 swinging from his hook, keys jingling in his 
 hand. He led us across the flagged court- 
 it was chill as a grave and up a flight of 
 steps corresponding to the flight which led into 
 the schoolroom. Unlocking the door, and
 
 Night and Dreams 77 
 
 having much ado to close it for the force of 
 the draught whereat he cursed foully he 
 brought us up a black and creaking stairway 
 to the highest floor. At the head of the stairs, 
 I made out in the light of his lantern a landing, 
 deep with dust, whence an intersecting passage 
 led to the doors of the rooms, four in number, 
 I took it, corresponding to the cross of the 
 house. He brought us into a low chamber 
 towards the sea above the schoolroom 
 wherein the light of the lantern revealed to 
 me a high four-poster, with curtains, as cere- 
 ments, moving in the draught like wings. This, 
 with a press, a table with basin, ewer of 
 water, towels, a chair, completed the furnish- 
 ings. Rob's garments hung from a line of pegs 
 on the wall ; my own chest lay opened by 
 the bed. Lighting a candle on the table 
 the draught blew it out thrice Ben left us 
 without a word, dragging the door to with a 
 crash, and turning the key upon us. The 
 chamber was chill as a vault, a musty smell 
 penetrated it. As Rob, lifting the candle out 
 of the draught, held it up, I saw that the beams 
 of the ceiling above were cob webbed and black 
 with dust ; mildewed in great patches from 
 the damp leaking in from the roof. I saw, in 
 the centre, a trap-door was cut, and that from 
 the iron ring set in it, a shred of broken rope, 
 strung with cobwebs, moved in the wind eerily 
 to and fro. 
 
 'I've a notion/ said Rob, setting the candle 
 down, and perching on the bed to pull off his 
 shoes, ' some rascal hanged himself there long
 
 78 The Black House 
 
 since. And that if I wake in the night I shall 
 see his body swing to and fro. Therefore, I 
 always draw the curtains of the bed. ' Stripping, 
 then, for all the cold, he poured water into 
 the basin and scrubbed himself with a towel, 
 ere he drew on his shirt. 
 
 Twill warm you, Jim,' said he, as I sat 
 shivering and melancholy on my chest. So, 
 though shaking as with ague, I followed him, 
 and presently tumbled into the bed the sheets 
 were as ice beside him. . 
 
 Awhile, after he had blown out the candle, 
 we lay chattering in the dark, but soon he 
 dropped off to sleep ; yet I, though snug and 
 warm, lay wakeful, pondering over all that 
 had passed since first I was brought down by 
 my guardian to Corbe. And, though the figure 
 of Mr. Gandy was stamped most clearly on my 
 mind and I pictured him in all the moods he 
 had revealed to me that day ; and though, in 
 my prayer to God, I was most thankful that 
 he had given me a friend, who now lay sleeping 
 easily by my side I found my mind returning 
 constantly to the dark, handsome gentleman, 
 John Corbe ; my sense of his familiarity to 
 me ; his evident distaste for me ; and his 
 perturbation at the sight of me. Aye, and I 
 thought of Rob Orme's story of the lonely 
 lady dwelling in the Manor, that had been her 
 husband's, and, for all I knew to the contrary, 
 dependent for her livelihood on the charity of 
 the very wastrel who was the intimate of the 
 Prince Regent. Found myself wondering madly, 
 whether there could be aught of kinship between
 
 Night and Dreams 79 
 
 me and the gentleman, black as I was black, 
 coloured freshly as I was coloured. Kinship 
 that should give me kinship to the widowed 
 lady in the Manor House across the fens. And 
 all the while my thoughts were running riot, 
 the storm was terrible without ; and the walls 
 shook with its forces ; and whirl of wind and 
 beat of sea sounded as cannonades ! The 
 curtains shook and waved, and their rings 
 rattled ; I did believe that grisly fingers sought 
 to pluck them back ; I did believe that unless 
 I held my eyes shut fast, I should behold the 
 face of the man who, surmised Rob in his mad 
 fancy, had hanged himself from the rope still 
 held by the iron ring. 
 
 Yet, at last, for all my whirling thoughts 
 and terrors, I fell asleep, to dream dreams of 
 John Corbe, and of a woman whose face I 
 might not see. All through my dreams I did 
 believe a voice called to her her voice and 
 that it was very sweet and gentle, as my mother's 
 might have been.
 
 Chapter XI Guns from the Sea 
 
 I AWOKE to find Rob clutching me and 
 for the moment I thought in panic that 
 some phantom the suicide's had me, and 
 I screamed out lustily. 
 
 ' Nay, Jim nay, Jim,' cried he, ' I'm sorry 
 that I scared you. But I heard the sound 
 just now like the gun of a ship at sea and saw 
 a flare through a rift in the curtain there. Come 
 to the window, Jim ! ' 
 
 He had dragged back the curtain and sprung 
 out of bed in wild excitement so shaking 
 yet I tumbled after him ; and stood shivering 
 by his side. The storm was mighty still, 
 but the rain had ceased, and through the racing 
 clouds the pale moon looked down on a scene of 
 terror. I could make out the cliffs below us, 
 and the spray that broke high from the rollers ; 
 I could make out the ocean in a wild whirl of 
 waters ; ere the clouds veiled the moon's 
 face and all was blackness. Blackness not 
 all, for suddenly Rob gripping at my arm cried 
 in my ear, ' The light, mark the light ! ' 
 
 Before us the cliffs shot out jutting arms in 
 the form of a half moon, going high at either 
 extremity above us. And on the height to 
 
 80
 
 Guns from the Sea 81 
 
 the right, where we had climbed the afternoon 
 before, I marked a flare of light as in a cresset, 
 that burning an instant was dimmed, to swing 
 out again presently and once more to be blotted. 
 And to the left on the cliff fronting the cliff 
 whereon the Black House was built, I saw three 
 dancing lights that bobbed up and down 
 and swept to right and left, and sometimes 
 were submerged utterly. 
 
 ' So/ breathed Rob Orme into my ear. ' Ben's 
 lanterns and the cattle. Wreckers ! They 
 lure a ship into the reefs that run Corbe way.' 
 
 ' Wreckers ! ' And as he spoke there came a 
 spurt of flame from the sea and a gun boomed 
 out above the tumult of the wind and wave. 
 And while we clung to the window-sill, in terror, 
 from the blackness burnt a blue light that 
 showed us the shape of a great ship ; masts 
 and spar and rigging in that blue flare ere 
 it died out, and all was dark once more, but 
 for the evil eye of light that winked from the 
 cliff above us, and the lights that danced on 
 the cliff afar. 
 
 Rob Orme turned back to snatch a blanket 
 from the bed, and wrap it about us both. He 
 was shaking with excitement, while I was sick 
 with horror, understanding that here played 
 out before me was one of those grim tales of 
 ships lured to their doom by wreckers' lanterns 
 such tales as I had read in the news-sheets 
 in London. 
 
 ' Can we do nothing, Rob ? ' gasped I. 
 ' Nothing to save her and those on board.' 
 
 ' What can we do ? ' he answered vengefully. 
 
 6
 
 82 The Black House 
 
 ' She's nigh inshore. She'll strike. And what 
 should we do locked in this prison, while 
 Gandy and his company 
 
 His vengeful mutter ended suddenly for 
 the key had turned in the lock, and the door was 
 open. And looking in upon us, a lamp held high 
 above us, stood Mr. Gandy, gaunt and cadaver- 
 ous, his body wrapped in a quilted crimson 
 gown, a tasselled night-cap on his head. Sternly 
 he regarded us an instant, ere he cried angrily. 
 ' What's this ? Not abed, you dogs ? Why, 
 I'll flog the pair of you.' 
 
 And advanced upon us, his lamp swinging, 
 the Malacca cane he had borne on pacing with 
 me on the terrace raised vengefully. Staring 
 at him in terror, I saw that his eyes were aflame 
 with wrath, and that his lips were cruelly 
 curved. Another instant and the cane had 
 whistled about our bare legs, when Rob Orme, 
 darting forward, caught at his arm, crying 
 excitedly, ' Mr. Gandy, sit there's devil's 
 work about the cliffs to-night. See ! ' pointing 
 excitedly out to where the lanterns burned 
 on the cliffs, though the cresset on the height 
 was not perceptible. ' See, sir 1 wreckers- 
 wreckers ! There's a ship nigh ashore ! They've 
 le,d her in to destruction.' 
 
 Mr. Gandy in the lantern light seemed to 
 control his savage wrath ' by a supreme effort. 
 ' Lanterns upon the clift's ! ' he said, contemptu- 
 ously. 
 
 ' And on the cliff above us, sir.' 
 
 ' Nay, Rob, Rob who save my servants 
 should have access there ? '
 
 Guns from the Sea 83 
 
 ' I tell you, sir/ gasped Rob, ' we saw a 
 light upon the cliffs. You saw it, Jim you 
 saw it.' 
 
 ' I saw it, sir,' I affirmed. ' Like a flaring 
 cresset/ 
 
 Mr. Gandy stood but a moment staring up 
 at the cliffs, but no lights showed. All the 
 while Rob and I were crying in excitement 
 that there was a ship driving ashore ; clutching 
 at his robe, begging him to make some effort 
 to save her and her crew. 
 
 ' The men of Corbe/ cried Mr. Gandy, to be 
 heard above the storm, now at its height, 
 ' are smugglers and wreckers from one generation 
 to another. A ship say you, lad a ship 
 
 Suddenly through the night came a great 
 crash louder than the storm. Aye, and ter- 
 rible the cry that went up to heaven in long- 
 drawn agony. 
 
 ' A ship ! ' cried Gandy. ' She's struck ! 
 She's struck ! Out on the Dragon Rock. God 
 save their souls ! ' And turning upon us fiercely, 
 gripped us, and flung us easily upon the bed. 
 ' Be quiet, the pair of you/ snarled he, 
 ' or I flog you both in the morn till the blood 
 runs ! There's work for me and my fellow 
 abroad to-night ! To bed with ye, to bed ! ' 
 
 And snatching his lantern up sped from the 
 room, with all the vigour of a man in the 
 prime of strength, while in the day he had 
 seemed to be burdened down with his years. 
 The door clashed on us once again ; the key 
 turned in the lock ; once more we were prisoners. 
 We were back at the window ere the door was
 
 84 The Black House 
 
 shut. But the moon was lost in the clouds ; 
 but the blackness of the night enshrouded all 
 things, the cliffs and sea ; and the lanterns 
 burned no more. We durst not open the case- 
 ment window for the terrific wind and for the 
 scud that beat upon it if we believed that we 
 heard aught, wild cries upon the night, it 
 might as well have been the shrieking of the 
 wind as the scream of wretches drowning from 
 the wreck. 
 
 ' He's gone/ shrieked I in Rob Orme's ear, 
 ' to bear them aid he and Ben ! ' 
 
 He cried back Mr. Gandy's words, ' God 
 save their souls ! For some one from the 
 Black House Ben maybe aided the men of 
 Corbe to lure them ! The light up there ! 
 God save their souls ! '
 
 Chapter XII Wrath of Mr. Gandy 
 
 KEZIAH released us soon after sunrise. A 
 sleepy pair she found us. yet washed 
 and dressed and eager for release. We had 
 slept little till towards dawn, when the 
 wind was dropping, but for all our vigil 
 by the window we had seen the lights no more, 
 or heard aught from the sea but the roar of 
 waters. Nor did the sunlight on this morning 
 after storm reveal much to us of the nigh,t's 
 dread event, for though the wind was fallen, 
 and only a sweet breeze blew, the waves yet 
 broke so high and flung up such showers of 
 spray that we could scarce catch a glimpse 
 of the sea itself below the cliffs. But when at 
 intervals we saw the rolling waters momentarily, 
 we believed that we could make out barrels 
 and spars afloat as from the broken wreck. 
 
 ' You'll come to your breakfast in the kitchen 
 now/ commanded Keziah. ' And 'tis the 
 master's orders that, as you value your skins, 
 you'll not quit the house till his return.' 
 
 ' And where's the master this morn, Keziah ? ' 
 queried Rob Orme, as we stumbled down the 
 stairway in her wake. 
 
 ' He's ridden to Corbe/ she answered glibly, 
 
 85
 
 86 The Black House 
 
 as if repeating a lesson. ' A ship went ashore 
 in the night on the Dragon Rock. The master 
 thinks from lights he saw on the cliffs it was the 
 work of wreckers. He has ridden to Corbe 
 to tell the King's officers what he saw. Or, 
 if not too late, to help the poor men from the 
 ship. You are not to go out ! ' 
 
 ' And Ben has he gone with him ? ' asked 
 Rob. 
 
 ' The gate/ snapped Keziah, ' is locked, and 
 I I have the key/ 
 
 Rob winked at me, as we followed Keziah 
 along the rain wet terrace, and into her cheerful 
 kitchen, where porridge and bread and coffee 
 awaited us. So close were we at her heels 
 that she had not time to snatch down and bear 
 away a lantern hanging on the wall ere we 
 had noted, the pair of us, that it was rusted with 
 the weather, and that sea-salt was crusted on 
 it, aye, that caught in it was a tuft of hair 
 as torn from a cow's poll. 
 
 Trolling a song, as if he had not noticed the 
 woman's sudden dart at the lantern, Rob sat 
 down at table facing me, and saying nothing 
 till she returned to wait upon us. She looked 
 at us, as she handed us bowls of porridge and 
 a jug of milk, and her aspect was lowering and 
 suspicious ; but Rob falling on his breakfast, 
 and rallying her that there were lumps in the 
 gruel, she wore soon her smile ; and waited 
 on us with the silence that was habitual to her. 
 And to his questions when our meal was over, 
 and we were lounging by the fire, she answered 
 only in monosyllables. Did she know what
 
 Wrath of Mr. Gandy 87 
 
 ship it was ? No ! Had any one got ashore 
 did she know ? No ! Had Mr. Gandy said 
 when he expected to return ? No ! 
 
 He snatched up his cap at last, and growling 
 ' Come along, Jim ! ' ran out of the kitchen with 
 me at his heels. She fluttered after us, crying 
 shrilly, ' You're not to leave the house ! D'ye 
 hear ? Not to leave the house ! The master 
 ordered ! He'll flog you ! He will ! ' 
 
 Rob Orme and I raced down the steps into 
 the wet meadow, now all agleam in the sunlight. 
 The cattle fed in the shelter of the wall over 
 which we had climbed on the previous day. But 
 though he made towards them, he pulled up 
 presently and said to me, ' We'll pay for this, 
 Jim ; he'll baste us black and blue ! D'ye 
 want to make back ? ' 
 
 ' Not I,' I answered. ' I'll risk the rod. 
 I'm not thin-skinned. Let's go down to the 
 cliffs.' 
 
 ' Not that way, Jim. We could see nought 
 for the surf ; and we'd risk being washed off. 
 This way ! ' 
 
 He raced up the hill from the sea, and skirting 
 the frowning Black House, brought me presently 
 out on the green turf before Mr. Gandy's 
 window where the parrot rocked on its gilded 
 perch. Keziah was at the door before us, 
 and screeched after us, ' I'll loose the hound 
 on you, if you will not come back.' 
 
 The hound bayed from the hall ; but laughing 
 back in answer Rob flew like a hare across the 
 grass I panting after and dashed up to the 
 gate. It was locked, doubly secured by an
 
 The Black House 
 
 iron chain. But the years had eaten away 
 the mortar of the stone wall, and gripping the 
 gatepost Orme swung himself up, and digging 
 his toes into the crevices was presently astride 
 the wall and hauling me up after him. Letting 
 ourselves drop on the turf ten feet or so below 
 us on the other side, we landed safely and were 
 off scampering down the narrow space between 
 the wall and the cliff. This, widening out, 
 presently brought us up to a bluff of broken 
 rock above the sea. I do not think Rob Orme 
 had any clear purpose save that he was eager 
 as I to have a view of the wreck, if it should be 
 left still on the reef. Indeed, when clambering 
 up after him through the broken rocks, I 
 muttered to him, ' Rob, d'ye purpose escaping 
 from the Black House and making for London ? ' 
 he called back, ' No, what's the use ? They'd 
 only haul us back. Have you any friends 
 who'd help us? ' 
 
 I answered sadly, ' No ! ' 
 
 ' Well have a look for the wreck, then/ he 
 cried, ' and make back ! Gandy will flay us 
 for this I promise you.' 
 
 We were out of sight of the house at our back, 
 and the valley where the road went down. 
 All about us towered the great rocks ; before 
 us we could hear the beat of the waves upon 
 the cliffs. The sea-fowl sheltering against the 
 storm paid us scant heed, but before us pres- 
 ently, as we were approaching the brow of the 
 cliff, they wheeled above in clouds screaming 
 shrilly. And suddenly Rob, climbing before 
 me, slid back, and putting his fingers to his
 
 Wrath of Mr. Gandy 89 
 
 lips whispered, ' Hush ! Lie quiet ! Some one 
 Gandy 's above us on the rocks I heard his 
 voice. Keziah lied. Oh, Lord, he'll skin us ! ' 
 
 We lay together sheltered under a jutting 
 rock, immediately below the brow of the cliff, 
 I thought from the roar of the sea. And sud- 
 denly I, too, heard Gandy speaking above us, 
 clearly, angrily. 
 
 ' How d'ye come here ? From some ship 
 you say ? What ship ? ' 
 
 ' The Virginian, from New York ... to- 
 bacco . . . cottons,' some one was answering, 
 some survivor from the wreck, I did believe, as 
 we lay listening intently. 
 
 ' How did you get here ? ' 
 
 ' God knows ! Climbed up the cliff.' The 
 voice was hoarse and broken. 
 
 ' How came she piled up there ? ' 
 
 ' Wreckers ! I'll swear 'twas wreckers ! 
 Stranger, 'twas wreckers. . . . Whose house ? ' 
 
 ' Why d'ye ask ? ' 
 
 ' Because the lights that brought us in shone 
 from that place . . . higher. . . / 
 
 ' Lights from the windows ? ' 
 
 ' Lights from the windows don't swing and 
 drift as those lights. . . . Wreckers ! ' 
 
 ' Are any saved but you ? ' 
 
 And there was menace in his tone, such 
 menace as when he had come upon us suddenly 
 peering forth from the window watching the 
 lights. 
 
 ' How should I know ? ' faltered the voice, 
 and the surf thundering up we lost the sound 
 of all that passed between them. Save that
 
 go The Black House 
 
 presently I heard a cry a dreadful cry as 
 that which had sounded from the sea only 
 very faint, when the cry in the night had rung to 
 heaven through the storm. Clutching the rocks 
 in terror Orme and I lay silent, staring at one 
 another with wild eyes. 
 
 And down the rocks came clambering nimbly 
 our preceptor. He was passing us by, when 
 his eyes fell upon us, and he started back, and 
 for a moment stood regarding us with flaming 
 eyes. His right hand clutched at his breast, 
 as if some weapon were concealed there ; 
 then recovering himself and stooping over us 
 he snarled, ' What do ye here, you dogs ? 
 How long have you been here ? ' 
 
 ' Only this instant,' lied Orme, white and 
 shaken as I. ' As you came down the cliffs . . .' 
 
 ' You had my orders from Keziah ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, sir . . .' faltering. 
 
 ' And disobeyed 
 
 ' Sir, we were mad to catch a glimpse of the 
 wreck . . .' 
 
 ' Are ye not lying to me ? . . . How long ?' 
 
 ' I tell you, sir, this instant . . .' 
 
 He laughed savagely, his hand now swinging 
 his supple cane. ' 111 have discipline/ he said. 
 ' I vow I'll be obeyed by my scholars. Come 
 ye here ! '
 
 Chapter XIII Beneath the Four-Poster 
 
 WE passed the remainder of the morning, 
 Rob and I, locked in our bedchamber. 
 Lord, how Mr. Gandy had basted the pair of 
 us, and how my body ached ! Never had 
 chastisement from Mr. Pounds fallen so heavily 
 upon me ! Till wearying, as his cane snapped 
 across Rob's breech, he flung the fragments 
 down, and grabbing the pair of us by the col- 
 lars of our jackets he propelled us before him 
 down the rocky way vowing, ' I'll have disci- 
 pline in my house egad, I'll have discipline ' 
 with bitter reiteration. 
 
 Unlocking the gate he drove the two of us 
 into the house before him the hound cower- 
 ing at his feet. And how Keziah leered per- 
 ceiving us rumpled and bedraggled, under- 
 standing the fate which had befallen us. But 
 savagely he bade her begone to her kitchen, 
 and like a fluttering hen she fled before him. 
 He marshalled us then in his study before him, 
 and now, composed, read us a pretty lecture on 
 the necessity of obedience to our parents and pre- 
 ceptors quoted to us Holy Writ, construed a 
 tag of Latin, and warned us of the fate which 
 must be ours, if we should stray afresh from 
 
 91
 
 92 The Black House 
 
 the paths of rectitude. And ' Execution Dock ! 
 Execution Dock ! ' interjected the screeching 
 parrot, rocking on its perch. So he ordered us 
 to our room for the remainder of the day, and 
 driving us helter-skelter before Jiim, locked the 
 door upon us. 
 
 Awhile we groaned and rubbed our hurts, 
 forgetful of all else, till with the recollection of 
 the adventure on the cliffs the questions, 
 the strange voice, the threat, the cry I stag- 
 gered over to Rob Orme leaning sullenly 
 against the sill, and whispered, ' Rob Rob 
 d'ye think he did murder on the cliffs ? Flung 
 some poor wretch down ! ' 
 
 He nodded blackly. ' Hist ! ' he whispered 
 back. ' No more, it's not safe. Not in this 
 place ! The walls seem hollow . . . like the 
 floors ! . . . Jim ' (lips to my ears), 'we mustn't 
 stay here ! He'll do us to death, if he should 
 think ... we heard ! We must escape ! . . . 
 When we can I >-..' 
 
 ' Whither ? ' I whispered drearily. ' Who'll 
 protect us ? Who'll believe ? ' 
 
 ' There's sure some one ! Be still ! ' clutch- 
 ing at my arm. And indeed I fancied that I 
 could hear Gandy breathing nigh the door. 
 
 Orme, rubbing his wounds, groaned natur- 
 ally well might he groan, if he ached and 
 burned as I. And ' Lord,' says he aloud, ' I'm 
 black and blue ! Were you ever flogged so, 
 Jim?' 
 
 ' I've not a shred of skin upon my back,' I 
 answered, following his cue. ' I tell you, Rob, 
 I'll try no more to leave the house ! '
 
 Beneath the Four-Poster 93 
 
 At that it seemed the breathing ceased, and 
 presently the stair creaked as if he stole away. 
 
 ' Jim/ whispered Rob, ' I said the walls are 
 hollow ! Lord knows who built this place ! 
 But whosoever he was, he planned to have the 
 way of escape by sea, as by land. The floor 
 rings under your feet, as if there were a hollow 
 space below it ... You've marked it ? ' 
 
 ' Yes as you told me ! ' 
 
 ' Jim, when I was locked here a month since 
 like this I took to searching in the room. 
 There's something that the four-poster hides. 
 Wait while I am at the door look beneath it ! 
 Quick ! Don't ctay ! ' And stealing to the 
 door, leant against it, listening intently. Nod- 
 ding presently and whispering ' Now ! ' 
 
 At once I stooped forward, and pulling up 
 the dusty hangings, so that the light from the 
 window was upon the floor, I peered beneath 
 the bed. Awhile I could see nothing save the 
 flooring boards they were stained black with 
 age but presently I made out, cut in a square, 
 though filled with dust, the outline it seemed 
 to me of a trap- door. Orme whispering ' Don't 
 stay ! ' I let the covering drop, and drew back 
 to the window, where he rejoined me. 
 
 ' A door going down whither ? ' I asked. 
 ' D'ye guess ? ' 
 
 ' No ! I'd planned to prise it up and see ! 
 Gandy and Keziah have never noticed it 
 under the bed. It must have stood there for 
 years ! If there's no other way, Jim, and 
 they're like to watch us night and day, we'll 
 have the boards up some night and look for
 
 94 The Black House 
 
 ourselves. We can raise it with a chisel. 
 What d'ye think, Jim ? ' 
 
 I nodded, sick still for the thought of what 
 must have passed on the cliff above us, and of 
 the crime that had brought the crew of The 
 Virginian from America to their death under 
 the cliffs. And understanding that Rob and 
 I were at the mercy of such men. And savagely 
 resentful for the cruel flogging Gandy had be- 
 stowed upon the pair of us. 
 
 ' If we can get away/ whispered Orme, 
 ' we'll make for Corbe the Manor. In the 
 village Gandy will have friends. They're surely 
 battening, the men of Corbe, on plunder from 
 the wreck this morn. Aye, and they shared in 
 the plot that wrecked the ship. Smugglers 
 one and all wreckers ! ' 
 
 'To the Manor,' I muttered. 'Yes, I'd 
 like to get there. And see the widowed lady ! 
 Though, Rob, I fear the fellow John Corbe 
 would prove no friend of mine. From his 
 demeanour the morning at The Gold Scales ! ' 
 
 ' Anywhere ! So we're out of this house ! 
 But, Jim, for God's sake while we're here, 
 show nothing ! Don't let Gandy suspect 
 what we know ! Remembering' i 
 
 So, whispering secretly by the window, or if 
 we fancied Gandy or his creatures might be 
 listening without our door, loudly bemoaning 
 our stripes, the pair of us passed the morning. 
 At noon Keziah, grimly triumphant, released us 
 to our dinner. And thence we were directed 
 by her to the schoolroom, where suave and 
 smiling Mr. Gandy awaited us. And I do as-
 
 Beneath the Four-Poster 95 
 
 sure you that no ordinary preceptor could have 
 held us more to our tasks the weary afternoon 
 through, or laboured more with us in stumbling 
 through the Commentaries of Caesar. I mar- 
 velled at the man this power of concentrat- 
 ing his mind, assuredly troubled with the grim 
 doings of the wreck, for the time upon our 
 tuition ; nor could I determine whether in 
 his long life of sinfulness he had grown callous, 
 so that it accounted nothing to him men should 
 die, or whether with the dual nature that was 
 his, he took a lively pleasure in the task of 
 schoolmaster. Certainly none could have 
 seemed more kindly, and none could have ex- 
 pounded with such clarity even to my dull 
 senses on that day the obscurities of Caesar's 
 Commentaries.
 
 Chapter XIV Voices by Night 
 
 FOR a week thence Mr. Gandy scarcely 
 suffered us out of his sight. From morn 
 till eve we were at our tasks, labouring under 
 his surveillance in the schoolroom, or if we 
 were free to walk abroad, we were compelled 
 under pain of his displeasure' and our backs 
 yet sore we durst not risk a fresh flogging to 
 remain within the stone wall that cut off the 
 pastures about the Black House from the 
 approach to the cliffs. And strolling aim- 
 lessly about the meadow, or sitting on the rocks 
 in the autumn sunshine, we had a sense always 
 that we were watched either by Gandy him- 
 self from the terrace, or by the sullen, taciturn 
 Ben, smoking his pipe on the steps leading down 
 from the Black House. Keziah, who had seemed 
 tolerant of us till our escapade, was now openly 
 confessed our enemy. At our meals in the 
 kitchen she presided with an aspect like to 
 sour the milk in our porridge. Once when 
 Rob Orme plucked up heart to rally her, round- 
 ing upon him, she told him that if he harried 
 her, she'd go to Mr. Gandy himself, and that 
 he'd suffer for it. Not alone the bruises of 
 
 96
 
 Voices by Night 97 
 
 our flogging weighed us down. I was tor- 
 mented by the recollection of that dread night 
 of tempest, of the evil lights that had done 
 their murderous work from the cliffs most 
 of the encounter between Mr. Gandy and 
 the stranger on the following morning I 
 scarce dared picture what had passed between 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Gandy, from the moment of his dis- 
 covery of us under the rock, viewed us, I saw, 
 with black suspicion. Lifting my eyes from 
 my book in the schoolroom, I chanced many 
 times to catch his eyes, regarding us furtively 
 and cruelly. I tell you the very devil looked 
 from those blue eyes of his evil blue eyes 
 like jewels, lighting his dark, sinister face. 
 And, sitting by the fire of a night, we dared 
 not speak our thoughts of the work on the 
 cliff that morn having a dread always lest 
 he should hear. We spoke only of our ter- 
 rors of what should chance to us when 
 we were in the open pastures, or whispering 
 abed in the great black four-poster of a night. 
 Often I would hear the stairs creak, and I 
 would clutch Rob Orme to hush even the whis- 
 per, and together we would lie, purporting to 
 be sound asleep while the door would open 
 stealthily, and candlelight flash upon our faces, 
 and Gandy, grim and evil, stand peering down 
 upon us. Once, indeed, for my terror I could 
 not endure, and opening my eyes sat up with 
 a start, only to find him smiling benignly 
 upon me, and to hear him in that silver tone 
 of his say, ' Sleep, lad, sleep. I did but 
 
 7
 
 98 The Black House 
 
 come in, ere I sought my bed, to be assured 
 you were asleep, and not wasting the night 
 in mischief/ And that cruel hand of his rested 
 lightly upon my head, whereat I could scarcely 
 repress a shudder. On the Sunday came the 
 supreme mockery of prayers, a chapter, and 
 a most pious exposition and exhortation by 
 our preceptor, the pair of us ranged miserably 
 before him in the study, and the bird, to 
 preserve the solemnity of the service 1 moved 
 out on its perch into the sunshine near the door. 
 We passed the remainder of the morn in the 
 schoolroom, having exchanged our Greek and 
 Latin books for tomes in which the writings 
 of some dull old divine lay entombed' and 
 might well have laid entombed till judgment 
 day. So for the afternoon with an hour's 
 pacing of the meadow and for the night 
 locked early in our bedchamber. 
 
 Now all these days we saw no sign nor heard 
 aught of the wreck and its hapless company. 
 On the second Sabbath from my coming to 
 the Black House Mr. Gandy rode abroad on 
 his black mare. But though he was out of 
 the house, so dire had been his threats before 
 he set off, wrapped in his black cloak, and 
 so close the watch the seaman Ben kept 
 upon us, that we dared not seek the cliffs. 
 And from our windows we saw naught, save 
 the white-winged ships going out to sea in 
 the pale sunlight, and a little schooner which 
 in the fair weather succeeding the storm 
 seemed to hover about Corbe the day 
 through.
 
 Voices by Night 99 
 
 Whispering in our bed that Sabbath night, 
 we feigned sleep, when Gandy came stealing 
 up the stairs, and when the door was locked 
 once more upon us composed ourselves to 
 slumber. But I slept ill, and I woke repeat- 
 edly to lie listening to the drums of the sea 
 that beat through the dark, and a little wind 
 moaning about the Black House. And once 
 I started up, and clutching at Rob Orme 
 roused him, believing that I caught the sound 
 of voices muttering it seemed below us. And 
 when he grunted sleepily, ' What's the matter, 
 Jim ? ' I whispered to him, ' Rob, d'ye hear 
 aught ? I fancied Listen ! ' 
 
 Voices ! Assuredly I heard voices, seeming 
 to come up through the floor. And recalling 
 the old trap-door that lay beneath the bed, 
 whispered to him, ' Rob, d'ye hear ? D'ye 
 hear ! Below us.' 
 
 Awhile he sat silent as if he strained his 
 ears to hear. He whispered at last, ' I hear- 
 something. Voices. Or the sea ! Below 
 under the floor ! Yes ! ' 
 
 ' Rob, is it Gandy ? Ben ? ' 
 
 ' Many voices. And a sound like the sea 
 or thunder. ' Then suddenly, ' Jim I believe, 
 they're rolling something over stone. Like 
 casks. That's it, Jim casks brandy from 
 France, or hogsheads from the wreck. Jim, 
 there's a cellar below us, or a cave. That's 
 it ! Smugglers ! ' 
 
 And straining my ears while excitedly we 
 clung together, I heard the rolling of barrels 
 as in a great echoing cave. And I understood
 
 ioo The Black House 
 
 that beneath the Black House the smugglers 
 of Corbe, at whom my guardian had hinted 
 to the landlord of The Gold Scales, had their 
 storehouse. For it might have been a half- 
 hour the sounds continued to my terror, and 
 then died away, till only the moaning of the 
 wind and the beating of the sea drums reached 
 my ears. Rob, slipping suddenly from my 
 side, stole to the window, and peered out into 
 the blackness. Diving back as suddenly, and 
 pulling me down beside him in the bed, for I 
 knew well what cause. And while we lay feign- 
 ing sleep, the pair of us, I had a sense that the 
 door opened stealthily ; that some one stole 
 to the bed, plucked back the curtains, and 
 playing the candlelight over our faces, peered 
 down upon us. Gandy ! And with the thought 
 of the sounds below, I understood why he re- 
 mained longer than was his wont, scrutinizing 
 us to be assured that we slept. But at last 
 he let the curtain fall, and stole away as silently 
 as he had come. And presently Rob Orme 
 was whispering in my ears. 
 
 ' Jim, I caught the flash of a light at sea. 
 Maybe the schooner that's been off the coast 
 these days ? Maybe ! ' And again, ' Jim, I'm 
 going to find out what's under that trap-door. 
 I am/ 
 
 ' Gandy will kill us for it flog the hide off 
 us,' muttered I. ' Let's leave it alone.' 
 
 ' Not I ! I'll have that door up to-morrow 
 night. I will ! Smugglers maybe, they're 
 no friends of Gandy's. And, Jim, if they'll 
 help us away from him no matter what
 
 Voices by Night 101 
 
 they do, won't it be better than lying here, 
 at his will ! Fearing what hell do to us. 
 After what he did to that poor fellow on 
 the cliff ! '
 
 Chapter XV The Trap- Door 
 
 NOW ere this Rob Orme had shown no 
 sign to me that his spirit faltered be- 
 neath the burden of our life at the Black House, 
 and our dread of Gandy. I had faltered many 
 times, believing that one who had destroyed 
 a hapless fellow creature, by stabbing him or 
 by flinging him back from the cliffs, would not 
 spare us, if he believed that we knew what had 
 passed, and that our knowledge meant danger 
 to him. I do not know from the loneliness 
 and suffering of my boyhood I set so great a 
 price on life. I only know that life is more 
 precious to me at this time, having so much 
 more love and fellowship, which account more 
 to a man than great possessions. But the 
 thought of the unhappy company upon The 
 Virginian perishing in the waters, so that the 
 wreckers might possess themselves of the 
 ship's freight ; the cry that had gone up to 
 heaven through the storm ; the murder done 
 upon the cliffs that morn, the evil eyes that 
 watched us day and night, turned all my 
 thoughts my purpose to be away from the 
 Black House, it mattered not whither else 
 in the world. 
 
 102
 
 The Trap-Door 103 
 
 Now all the day after we had heard the voices 
 and the sounds like the rolling of hogsheads 
 over the stones Rob Orme made no further 
 mention of his intent to prise up the old 
 trap-door that seemed to be beneath our bed. 
 Monotonously as any other day of our gaoling 
 in the Black House the day dragged through 
 our studies in the schoolroom, our meals served 
 by the taciturn Keziah the evil-eyed Ben 
 watching us, as we sat in the feeble sunlight 
 down in the meadow. But looking seawards 
 I perceived and muttered Rob to look the 
 sails of a schooner making out to sea from 
 Corbe maybe the smugglers' schooner the 
 smugglers whose voices we had heard coming 
 up from beneath the Black House. By a 
 singular piece of fortune Mr. Gandy elected 
 that afternoon to ride again to Corbe. Booted 
 and spurred and cased in a dark riding coat, 
 he came into the schoolroom, finding time, 
 ere he left us, to set us tasks that should keep 
 us at our books, till we were ordered abed, 
 and fingering his lean riding switch sugges- 
 tively as he bade us set ourselves to our studies, 
 or we'd pay our reckoning so sure as the sun 
 rose on the morrow's morn. And patting us 
 benevolently upon the heads I shuddered 
 under his fingers he left us. 
 
 Darkness brought Keziah with our supper 
 the pair of us sitting glumly over the fire 
 and scarce had we emptied the platters when 
 she was back, briefly ordering us to bed. Sub- 
 missively we made our way up to our room, 
 where instantly she turned the key upon us,
 
 104 The Black House 
 
 and scurried downstairs glad, no doubt, to 
 be quit of the ward of us for the night. And 
 Rob Orme was muttering instantly into my 
 ears, ' Jim, now for the trap- door ! I've a 
 knife, I stole it from the kitchen this morn- 
 ing. Listen at the door, Jim, while I try 
 to raise the trap.' 
 
 From the door I saw him toss up the hang- 
 ings from the be"d, and crawl beneath it, 
 groping for the crack in the boards ; and pres- 
 ently heard his scraping with the blade to test 
 it. Suddenly he wriggled out, and whisper- 
 ing, ' I believe it's easy, Jim ! Help me move 
 the bed, quiet, lad quiet ! ' 
 
 I think the knowledge that Gandy was 
 abroad that Keziah had scarcely returned 
 to her kitchen had made us more daring 
 than at any time since our misadventure on 
 the cliffs. I left the doorway Rob was al- 
 ready striving with all his force to shift the 
 great oaken bed from the spot whence it had 
 stood Lord knows how many years, ere Gandy 
 had been master of the Black House and 
 setting my shoulder against a post, I strove 
 with him. f i| But for all our efforts the bed was 
 set firm, and would not move an inch ; later 
 I understood that it was well, for assuredly 
 had we pushed it across the floor it must have 
 revealed the movement to Gandy and his ser- 
 vants. 
 
 ' No use ! ' cries |Rob at last, gasping for his 
 efforts. ' No use trying. Hold up the hangings, 
 Jim, and show the light.' 
 
 Diving beneath the bed again while I snatched
 
 The Trap-Door 105 
 
 up the candle, he prised at the cracks about 
 the boards with the long carving knife he had 
 purloined. And suddenly there came a cracking 
 sound, and a blast of foul air nigh put out the 
 light. Gasping, he drew out from beneath the 
 bed, and making for the window, flung it open, 
 so that the sea air might blow in upon us. 
 
 ' What is it, Rob ? ' cried I. ' What's hap- 
 pened ? ' 
 
 ' I touched a spring, I think,' gasped he. 
 ' Foul air nigh poisoned me ! Faugh ! The 
 door's lifted. Stay here awhile till the air's 
 sweet. Wait, Jim ! ' 
 
 Trembling with excitement we leaned against 
 the open window. The candlelight revealed 
 a grey dust coming up. A musty smell a 
 reek like rotting weed awhile the candle 
 flickered, and burnt blue, till at its clearing 
 we understood that it was safe for us to look 
 again beneath the bed. 
 
 Now Rob Orme's knife assuredly had touched 
 a secret spring, and the trap had risen from the 
 floor, until it met the bed. And we looked 
 into a black depth, which we dared presently 
 approach, and crawling on our bellies I bear- 
 ing the candle to peer down. The chill 
 draught coming from the vault nigh put the 
 candle out, so that I must needs protect its light 
 with my fingers. Had Gandy come upon us 
 then he must have found the pair of us in a fit 
 and proper position for condign punishment, 
 our heads beneath the bed, and peering down 
 into the pit. Ay, and marking going down 
 into the darkness, whither the candlelight
 
 io6 The Black House 
 
 might not penetrate, an iron ladder, rung by 
 rung. But the foul air came up in a draught, 
 sickened us, and put out the candlelight. Shud- 
 dering I drew back with Rob Orme in the dark- 
 ness. And even as Rob's knife had touched 
 some secret spring, so that the trap- door had 
 risen, in our movements back we touched the 
 spring once more, for as we rose to our feet, 
 and staggered to the window, now lit by the 
 white moon, we heard the trap-door drop slowly 
 to its fitting in the floor.
 
 Chapter XVI Our Venture by Night 
 
 WE dared no further follow our adventure 
 for the night. We had neither flint 
 nor steel to relight our candle. By happy 
 chance the moon riding full in the heavens, was 
 a lamp for us, and enabled us to readjust the 
 hangings, sweep under the bed the dust which 
 had risen with the trap, and, stripping, don our 
 nightshirts and get to bed. The knife Rob 
 secreted beneath the mattress. Whispering lest 
 Gandy or his servants should have crept up 
 the stairs to spy upon us, we fell to wild conjec- 
 turing whither the iron stair should bring 
 us resolved further to pursue the adventure, 
 and going down the ladder on the next night, 
 learn whither it should bring us. 
 
 ' And if it breaks our necks' thus Rob 
 Orme ' what matter, Jim ? What's to be 
 the end of us at Gandy 's hands ? ' 
 
 ' Why not to-night, then ? ' 
 
 ' Nay, lad not to-night. We must have 
 light and 'twill be well to have food. To- 
 morrow, I'll have both. To-morrow night, 
 Jim.' 
 
 And clutching at my arm broke off for the 
 stairs creaked dismally. Yet, while we feigned 
 
 107
 
 io 8 The Black House 
 
 sleep, no one came. Our excitement at the 
 discovery, our apprehension lest Gandy should 
 hit upon the trap- door through the dust that 
 it had raised, our conjecturing whither the 
 stair should lead, by whom and how long since 
 the ladder had been set there, kept us awake 
 whispering for hours. All this while we heard 
 no sound of Gandy's return no one crept up 
 the stairs, though once when Rob Orme had 
 dropped off to sleep I thought that I heard 
 mutterings at the foot of the stairs, from the 
 house, as if Keziah and old Ben held .conclave 
 there. But even this I doubted, it might 
 well have been some draught come leaking in ; 
 for the sea wind blew without in fitful gusts, 
 and moaned about the Black House as if the 
 spirits of the seamen drowned from The Vir- 
 ginian menaced ks master and his man. At 
 last I slept slept till the day was clear 
 and Keziah, sour and shivering from the morn- 
 ing's chill stood glowering down on us. 
 
 ' Would ye sleep all day ? ' snaps she. ' Your 
 porridge will go cold, if you're not down- 
 stairs this minute. Up with ye ! Lazy dogs ! ' 
 
 Whisking out of the room and muttering 
 sourly to herself, as she climbed down the stairs, 
 ' Lazy dogs ! ' and yet ' Lazy dogs ! ' 
 
 ' She's in a sweet temper this morn, Jim, 'says 
 Rob, tumbling out of bed, and slipping off his 
 nightshirt, to wash his body for all the cold. 
 
 ' I wonder can she have seen aught ? ' said 
 I. ' Her eyes are as keen as needles.' 
 
 ' Except when it's a matter of sweeping under 
 our bed/ he answered, laughing through the
 
 Our Venture by Night 109 
 
 splash of soapy water. ' She's a sad slut 
 is our Keziah. But, after all, it's for our own 
 good. I'm not complaining ! ' 
 
 ' Rob, when d'ye think we can try ? ' 
 
 'To-night,' he answered. 'Maybe to-night. 
 It depends on Gandy.' 
 
 It was our fortune that Mr. Gandy, return- 
 ing towards midday, brought with him a guest 
 for the Black House. They came upon us, 
 Gandy and his friend, as Rob and I had left 
 the kitchen from our dinner, and were making 
 down into the meadow. They were yet in 
 riding dress the pair of them Gandy in 
 his black coat and boots, the gentleman in as 
 fine a dress as on the morning when he had 
 come suddenly upon my guardian and me in 
 the kitchen of The Gold Scales. 'Twas John 
 Corbe, handsome and black, but when his eyes 
 fell on me, as I would have slipped by him, he 
 waved his riding switch, and ordered, ' Come 
 here, boy ! Your pardon, Gandy/ 
 
 I stood before the pair of them, while Rob 
 went slowly down into the meadow. My pre- 
 ceptor's smile was beneficent and bland as 
 he regarded me. Mr. Corbe's face 1 while I 
 believed that in his eyes was the same expres- 
 sion of hate for me, as I had noted at The 
 Gold Scales was impassive. A handsome face 
 a young face still, and wholesome of colour- 
 ing, save for the flush of wine upon it, save for 
 the weary lines about the mouth, and the 
 dull marks below his fine eyes. His hand, 
 clutching his whip, was delicate as a woman's 
 and beringed ; he had a jewel in his cravat,
 
 no The Black House 
 
 else his modishness was expressed in the cut 
 of his riding-coat, and his creaseless riding- 
 breeches showing off his legs. 
 
 ' My beloved pupil/ said Mr. Gandy placidly, 
 ' young James Thorne/ 
 
 ' I saw the fellow with the attorney, Pounds, 
 at The Gold Scales,' said the gentleman indiff- 
 erently. ' Pounds declared him a rogue d'ye 
 find him so ? ' 
 
 ' A most docile scholar/ purred Gandy. 
 ' Having the ardent spirit of youth, though 
 a whit intractable/ 
 
 ' In other words, he's already felt your cane/ 
 John Corbe took him up, laughing. 
 
 ' I have found occasion to correct him/ 
 admitted Mr. Gandy. ' The lesson was not 
 lost on him. He'll not so offend again. It 
 pained me ; it pained him. Did it not, 
 James ? ' 
 
 ' I can answer for myself, sir/ I muttered 
 whereat Gandy 's laughter showed his pleasure. 
 
 This while John Corbe was watching me, as 
 if he studied my look and bearing; and as I 
 met his eyes, I saw the malevolent light in 
 them, the hate which grew upon his face- 
 darkening it, as a cloud darkens the surface 
 of the sea. His expression, as silently he re- 
 garded me, was not lost on Mr.' Gandy. It 
 seemed to breed in him malicious pleasure, for 
 in that silver voice of his, he said, as if he 
 chanced on a discovery, ' Had I not received 
 from my worthy friend Mr. Pounds particu- 
 lars of this lad's parentage, Mr. Corbe I'd 
 be conjecturing his relationship to you/
 
 Our Venture by Night in 
 
 ' To me ! ' cried John Corbe angrily. ' I 
 thank you, Gandy.' 
 
 ' Nay, not in any particular spirit of com- 
 pliment. The lad's a fine lad, Corbe ; he's 
 such a lad as you may well have been twenty 
 and odd years since. Of a like build of a 
 similar countenance. His hair's black as yours ; 
 he has your colouring, your eyes 1 ! 
 
 ' Cease this folly,' snarled the gentleman, 
 turning abruptly from me, and moving apart 
 to the balustrade, where he stood angrily tap- 
 ping the stone with his whip. 
 
 ' Folly, aye, 'tis folly ! ' says Gandy, as if 
 sobered. ' This lad's lot in life is not the 
 happy lot of Mr. Corbe. Forgive me, John 
 forgive me. I did but jest. My pupil, sir, 
 appreciates your kindly interest in him. That 
 will do, James, you may go ! ' 
 
 And glad enough to be away from the pair 
 of them, I bowed clumsily, and scurried off to 
 Rob, waiting me in the meadow. As we walked 
 away, Gandy and his companion passed into 
 the house. 
 
 ' What did the fellow want with you, Jim ? ' 
 cries Rob. 
 
 ' Want ! I don't know ! He only asked of 
 Gandy whether he'd yet flogged me, since he'd 
 seen me with Pounds in The Gold Scales. That 
 was all.' 
 
 ' Jim, what's between him and Pounds ? 
 D'ye know you're as like him as two peas. 
 Hair and colour 
 
 ' Gandy was saying so,' I answered. ' Corbe 
 seemed to take it ill. What's he doing here ?
 
 H2 The Black House 
 
 Have you ever set eyes on him before, Rob ? ' 
 For I had in my mind the thought of the 
 malevolent look in John Corbe's eyes, and a 
 certain uneasy feeling that his visit to the 
 Black House boded me no good. 
 
 ' Oh, yes ! I've seen him here maybe thrice 
 before. Most like he turns a penny from 
 Gandy's trade smuggling. Most like the 
 French brandy and laces mean guineas in his 
 pocket and that fine coat on his back. And, 
 maybe, Jim ' casting a look about him and 
 lowering his voice, lest Ben be hovering near 
 ' he's not above taking his share of the cargo 
 from The Virginian. An ill-looking fowl, Jim, 
 for all his fine feathers.' 
 
 ' Aye ill-looking. ' Feeling, indeed, a hate of 
 the gentleman with his arrogance and the 
 cruelty of his lips and eyes, and some instinct 
 that seemed to warn me against him that 
 spoke to mind and thought. And I knew that 
 I hated John Corbe as he hated me. 
 
 We saw no more of the gentlemen that after- 
 noon. We spent the few hours, ere the November 
 darkness fell, in the schoolroom, shivering 
 for the cold of the fireless room and for the 
 excitement that yet possessed us at the recol- 
 lection of our discovery of the trap- door, and 
 the ladder going down into blackness. Little 
 we took from our books that afternoon it 
 was well that Gandy, mellow from wine and 
 beneficent, looked in upon us once only, and 
 finding us to all appearance studious, muttered 
 a platitude, and left us. No fire was lit for us 
 in the schoolroom that eve ; from our supper
 
 Our Venture by Night 113 
 
 served to us in the kitchen sullen old Ben 
 piloted us straightway to bed, locking the 
 door upon us, and stumping down the stairs. 
 It suited our purpose well, for we proposed 
 that night to risk the chance of Candy's dis- 
 covering us, and to examine further the mys- 
 tery below the trap- door. Now it chanced 
 that Keziah had set a fresh candle in the 
 stick that day ; and furthermore Rob had 
 succeeded in secreting flint and steel about 
 himself, with the knife which he had not dared 
 leave hidden in the bed, so that we should 
 have light enough for our purpose. And, scarce 
 had the sound of Ben's footsteps died away, 
 than Rob had stuck the chair-back beneath the 
 handle of the door, to hold it, and was probing 
 with the knife for the secret spring. Again 
 the blade found it, again the door shot up, 
 and the reek as of bilge water stank in our 
 nostrils. And as the air cleared, we were 
 peering, the pair of us, down into the depths 
 whither the ladder descended. From the gulf 
 sounded up a hollow bellowing as if the sea 
 broke into the mouth of a cave, but we heard 
 no sound of voices, or rolling as if barrels were 
 shifted. 
 
 And ' Jim,' whispers Rob, ' I'm going to 
 find out what's down there. Hold the light 
 for me, I'm going down ! ' 
 
 ' Not alone ! I'm coming after.' 
 
 ' No, you'll stay here ! ' 
 
 ' And meet Gandy alone ! Not I. If you 
 go, I come after. I'll not stay here ' 
 
 ' But the light ! The draught will blow the
 
 ii4 The Black House 
 
 candle out. Well never find our way back 
 in the dark. Hold the light ! ' 
 
 Slipping from me while my heart was in my 
 mouth for what might chance to him down in 
 that black, foul pit, he caught the edge of the 
 floor, and lowered himself cautiously on to the 
 ladder. Slowly rung by rung he descended 
 the darkness swallowed him up, and I was 
 left alone shaking for terror lest he go to his 
 death careless of aught that might chance if 
 Gandy should come upon us and for all my 
 terror drawn by my curiosity to follow him 
 down into the depths. None the less, shadow- 
 ing the candle with my hand, I held the light 
 out over the pit, to illumine for him his des- 
 cent by the rusted ladder. And presently his 
 voice, choked and muffled, mounted up to me. 
 ' Jim if you can come down- with the light ! '
 
 Chapter XVII The Iron Stair 
 
 I NEEDED no further invitation to essay 
 the stair. I drew from beneath the bed 
 to load my pockets with flint and steel and tin- 
 der-box. An instant I listened at the door, 
 but heard no stir from Gandy or his folks. 
 With the candlestick then clenched in my left 
 hand, I struggled under the bed, and gripping the 
 edge of the floor with my right hand, I com- 
 menced slowly to descend. Rung by rung I 
 went down by some chance saving the light 
 from extinction rung by rung, there must 
 have been a hundred of the steps or more. 
 The red rust rasped my hand. The chill air 
 was as the chill of a tomb. A reek of salt was 
 in my nostrils ; and the blackness of the pit 
 was about me and the flickering candle flame. 
 At length I felt Rob's hand grip my jacket, 
 and my feet trod upon stone. Whispering 
 ' There's another ladder going down, I think, 
 and the sea's below us/ he took the candle 
 from me, and guarding its feeble light with his 
 fingers, sought to reveal where we stood. So 
 far as the palely burning flame revealed, we 
 stood in a stone chamber on a level it should 
 be with the ground floor of the Black House. 
 
 115
 
 n6 The Black House 
 
 Sand and dust were beneath our feet as Rob 
 lowered the candle I could make out the mummi- 
 fied bodies of sea-fowl scattered on the floor. 
 The floor through the litter showed that it 
 was the original rock cut roughly with pick 
 and chisel, ere the Black House was built ; 
 at about six feet from the foot of the iron 
 stair, which was set in masonry, a second pit 
 yawned black and, when we drew nigh it fear- 
 fully, we saw indeed a second ladder going 
 down even as the first descended from the room 
 above us. At brief intervals there arose from 
 this pit a rumbling sound as of the water beat- 
 ing into the mouth of a cave the sound that 
 we had heard dully when we lay abed. From 
 the platform of rock whereon we stood a gal- 
 lery, we found presently, led away almost at 
 right angles to the gulf, and along this we 
 commenced presently to trace our way, possessed 
 now solely by the spirit of adventure and heed- 
 less of Mr. Gandy's vengeance, if he or his ser- 
 vants should find our room untenanted. In- 
 deed, I did suggest to Rob that it might be 
 well to quit our search for the night and get 
 back to bed, but he answered only, ' I'm 
 going to find whither this way will bring us, 
 Jim ; it may be a way out of the Black House. 
 We may be free this night, ere Gandy knows. 
 Come on, lad.' 
 
 And at that hope surging in my heart I 
 followed him without further protest. So step 
 by step going cautiously lest we pitch down 
 into some pit with the candlelight giving us 
 but the merest glimmer wherewith to trace
 
 The Iron Stair 117 
 
 our way, we stole along the gallery. It was 
 black and damp and chill as the grave ; cut 
 through the natural rock, but arched over 
 with masonry, this much we could make out, 
 when Rob, lifting the candle high, revealed the 
 low roof. Advancing slowly we came at last 
 to a narrow flight of stone stairs leading up. 
 And now, so far as I might conjecture, we were 
 beneath the floors of the wing of the Black 
 House wherein Gandy dwelt ; for as we climbed 
 the stairway it was thick with dust I made 
 out above our heads great beams of timber 
 flooring black, cobwebbed, dusty. Aye, and 
 the rats were around us, scurrying, squeaking, 
 leaping from before us, as we climbed the stair 
 it had twelve steps and I marked with a shud- 
 der the pin-point lights of their eyes. Lord, 
 how they scurried, and squeaked, and fled 
 from us ! 
 
 Muttering ' Go quiet now, Gandy may hear, 
 Rob paused upon the topmost step. 'Twas 
 nigh on a level with the floor ; the space, . 
 narrowing, formed as it were a cupboard 
 stone for the wall of the house, oak for the 
 panelling of the room. Gandy' s room, we 
 were behind the panels in Gandy's room 
 aye, and the sudden sound of voices his voice, 
 John Corbe's made me grip Rob's arm, and 
 whisper ' Quiet ! Put out the light. We're 
 in his room.' 
 
 Rob, sheltering the light with his jacket, 
 stood silent with me, both leaning forward, 
 straining our ears nigh the panels to hear, 
 if we might, what passed between our master
 
 n8 The Black House 
 
 and the precious gentleman, John Corbe. 
 
 And the voices came to us clearly so nigh 
 were we behind the oak panelling. And fur- 
 thermore, though we had stepped quietly on 
 our stocking d feet, through a layer of soft dust, 
 it seemed the gentlemen had heard us stirring. 
 For, said he, ' It's time you set your traps for 
 rats, Gandy. The place is haunted with them. 
 Hear them behind the panels there ! ' 
 
 ' They trouble me no more than ghosts, ' 
 came our preceptor's silver tone. ' You're ner- 
 vous, Corbe/ 
 
 ' If I didn't know you so well, Gandy/ snapped 
 the gentleman, ' I'd wonder how you, of all 
 men, could endure this house. You should 
 hear a ghost in every wind in the chimney, and 
 picture a gibbet from every creaking shutter. ' 
 
 ' I'm not plagued with superstitious terrors, 
 Mr. Corbe,' Gandy assured him. ' I'm not 
 imaginative. I have nothing upon my con- 
 science/ 
 
 ' Or conscience to have anything upon/ 
 
 ' Put it so, if you will. Superstition is merely 
 a sign of age. Were I you, Mr. Corbe, I should 
 consult my physician. The pleasures of the 
 Town are breaking you before your time. 
 I mark it in your haggard eye and shaking 
 hand. It would be well for you, John Corbe, 
 were you wedded to to a very charming kins- 
 woman not so many miles off, and settled 
 securely in Corbe/ 
 
 Whereat Mr. Corbe cursed very savagely. 
 
 ' Now I/ said Mr. Gandy, ' am advanced 
 in years. I am turned three score and ten, and
 
 The Iron Stair 119 
 
 still a very infant to my macaw there upon his 
 perch. Yet I anticipate having from my youth 
 up been master of my mind another ten 
 years of life. I live peaceably ; I sleep soundly. 
 I shall sleep as soundly under the sod or under 
 the sea, as destiny will.' 
 
 ' Would you turn seaman again ? ' 
 
 ' Why d'ye ask that ? ' 
 
 ' " Under the sea ! " 
 
 ' Who knows ? I tell you, Corbe, at times 
 I sicken of my life ashore. I am not old enough 
 yet in mind to wish to spend my days always 
 in this place. The sea calls to me ; adventure 
 calls, fortune calls. ' 
 
 ' Fortune ! ' 
 
 ' Corbe, were I as you, having so much yet not 
 
 enough Aye, aye, ' breaking off suddenly 
 
 from his theme, ' Let me fill your glass ! ' 
 Bottle and glass clinked ere he spoke again. 
 ' Corbe, ye need guineas, having spent your 
 patrimony, and being debarred from setting 
 your fingers on the guineas in the coffers of 
 Mistress Anne Corbe. Guineas that came from 
 gold and ivory and spices silks trade of John 
 Company ! And as the Indies enriched John 
 Corbe your grandsire, so might the Indies 
 enrich John Corbe his grandson.' 
 
 ' You'd have me turn merchant oh, the 
 devil,' and the gentleman's voice was thick 
 with the fine wine of the Black House cellars. 
 
 ' I'd have you turn treasure-seeker.' 
 
 ' Lord, I seek it night on night at Watier's. 
 And lose and lose. I seek it of Anne Corbe, 
 my kinswoman. I seek and never find ! '
 
 120 The Black House 
 
 ' Ere the Englishman, ere the French, ere 
 the Dutch, the Spaniard, sought the riches 
 of Ind I tell you, Corbe, that even from 
 Peru in those years when Spain fattened on 
 the gold of the Americas -- the galleons 
 went sailing the Pacific seeking ever their 
 Eldorado. De Quiros De Torres others ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, curse it, Gandy, if you're leading up 
 to aught out with it, man ! ' 
 
 ' Have patience, Corbe ! Fill your glass with 
 that golden wine. I'd fill your mind with a 
 like golden wine.' 
 
 ' You'd have me drunken '- but the bottle 
 clinked on glass for all his growling protest. 
 
 ' Corbe, the Portugee and Dutchmen touched 
 the isles north of New Holland New South 
 Wales whither His Majesty's undutiful sub- 
 jects go at the King's bounty. In these isles 
 north aye, and down the great reefs that 
 line the Eastern coast in these isles 
 
 ' Curse the isles ! ' muttered Mr. Corbe 
 thickly. 
 
 ' Argosies were lost ! Argosies of Peru. Ar- 
 gosies of Ind. And these argcsies of Ind 
 Dutchmen bore a precious freight of gold 
 and ivory and gems, spices and silks. Aye, 
 and with these eyes I picture what another 
 saw twenty odd years ago just such an argosy, 
 gold and gems that the Spaniards or the 
 Dutchmen had stolen, or maybe, traded from 
 the treasure house of some Indian king.' 
 
 No word from Mr. Corbe now ; I took it 
 he listened intent as we. 
 
 ' Corbe, you talk of your kinswoman's East
 
 The Iron Stair 121 
 
 India stock, wasting while she mourns her 
 man and her child. I'd picture to you, Corbe, 
 this argosy, broken upon a reef, and this reef 
 now high and dry in the sand dunes ? And in 
 her holds yet a treasure of gold and jewels, 
 though spices and silks be long since blown to 
 dust, dust with the dust of the dead who trod 
 her deck. And all this treasure, Corbe, there 
 waiting for some ship, for men who live 
 and may yet enjoy all that the gold and the 
 gems dross in themselves may buy. What 
 of it, Corbe, what of it ? ' 
 
 ' Gandy, either you're most damnably 
 drunk 
 
 ' Corbe I'll tell the tale as it was told me. 
 A fellow escaping north in a little boat escaping 
 from the harsh rule of his taskmasters at 
 Botany Bay and driving north. Living after 
 his two companions die of thirst and this 
 fellow striking the isle of the argosy, land- 
 ing there for water. D'ye mark your man, 
 Corbe ? a starveling wretch burned black with 
 the sun, eyes thick with salt, lips raw and the 
 fever of thirst consuming him. Landing in 
 a little bay beaching his boat there, and 
 straying inland through the sand dunes. . . . 
 
 ' I tell you, Corbe, the sand dunes were about 
 him yellow as glass, smeared with the green 
 of rushes ... no trees, no shade. Wander- 
 ing miles up and down the coast and the sun 
 above him, a white fiery sun in a sky of blue 
 glass . . . And this argosy looming up before 
 him going high to a turret masts and 
 spars tumbled over the side, deep into the sand.
 
 122 The Black House 
 
 The ship broken on an ironstone fang, red 
 as blood. A red reef sand all about it where 
 once the sea had washed. Shade the fellow, 
 as he narrated this to me in Limehouse, 
 had no care save for shade and water. Shade 
 shade only under the hull of the ship broken 
 on the ironstone fang. As he came under the 
 hull, the shade seemed to flow out to him like 
 cool water like green water, blue water on 
 yellow sand. 
 
 ' He lay prone in the shade. Thirst burned 
 him. Fever shaped fantastic images in his 
 brain. A rope, he said, seemed to hang down 
 from the wreck astern he saw it clear sway- 
 ing in the wind. Figures slid down the rope 
 like apes, dropped noiseless in the sand be- 
 side him, hemmed him in a circle of fantas- 
 tic shapes, rigged in fantastic clothes. All 
 flickered away. New shapes raced with the 
 fever through his brain. Thus his story, 
 Corbe ! 
 
 ' When he awoke the sun had dropped to 
 the west. The smart of his lids as he rubbed 
 them with briny hands blinded him. Vision 
 clearing, he lay in the sand staring up at the 
 stern of the broken ship, rotting timbers, a 
 dulling scroll of beaten metal, no rope, no'shapes 
 stirring. His thirst burned him as a draught 
 of corrosive acid ; yet for the cool from the 
 salt wind and the shade his brain was clearer. 
 Water only water. The broken galleon con- 
 cerned him in no way. Thought of recapture 
 troubled him not at all. He pulled himself 
 up painfully by a broken spar, and staggered
 
 The Iron Stair 123 
 
 about the base of the wreck. Moaning afar 
 sea and wind rolling clouds, illumined sud- 
 denly by a shaft of white fire. Thunder above 
 .the roar of surf and scream of winds, white 
 sea-fowl beating up shrilling. The storm broke. 
 His waiting had seemed an eternity. Fat drops 
 of rain he sought to catch them in his hands, 
 his tongue stuck out for them. He tore the rag 
 of shirt from his flesh ; loosed the buckle of 
 his belt, and stripped to the waist caught the 
 wash of rain upon his body. Stark then, his 
 breeches falling from his legs the hailstones 
 beating on him his hands cupping to catch 
 the rain sucking the liquid up cupping his 
 hands again, and again sucking the water. 
 Brain clearing, blood cooling having the 
 thought to catch the streams of water down from 
 the broken galleon. Drinking and drinking, 
 his thirst yet unquenched ; and the chill of 
 the storm upon his body. Shaking suddenly 
 as with an ague sheltering under the galleon 
 side thinking him of his rags drenched on 
 the sand. 
 
 ' So the storm passed. The blackness left the 
 heavens. And the sun lay rose-coloured on a pur- 
 ple cloud. The great hull above him purple the 
 brass scroll burning dully as gold. Only a sweet 
 breeze blowing up from the sea and the air of 
 the evening beneficent. The ague was upon 
 him. His rags were drenched, and stiff from 
 wet salt. His chafed flesh could not endure 
 them. He scooped a sodden handful of bis- 
 cuit from his breeches pocket, and slinging 
 the garments over the fallen mast, swallowed
 
 24 The Black House 
 
 the biscuit down. For all the chill upon him, 
 his strength flowed back into his body. He had 
 a notion now to climb up into the wreck- 
 piled up how long since in this desert of sand, 
 all this way from the sea ? From the shattered 
 turret he might look out over the sands ; - 
 to what lay about him on the mainland bush 
 where there should be water ; seawards lest 
 they come after. North lay China ; south 
 Hell. Many miles south he had sailed ; 
 how many days in the stolen boat beached at 
 dawn ? Before he started his tramp into the 
 sand hills, miles into the sand hills, though 
 he had had a sense of circling about and about, 
 seeking water ? 
 
 ' Naked he climbed up by the fallen mast. 
 A splinter tore his breast, as he climbed. 
 Easily he climbed, dropping soon over the side 
 on to the rotten deck. A bed of sand had 
 blown up to case the deck ; it was splashed 
 with the sea-fowl, gummed with scales, and 
 reeking with the dead fish the birds had borne 
 there. Where the deck was bare from sand, 
 the planking parted ; great cavities appeared. 
 He stared ahead ; he saw that he was upon an 
 island the red fang, the sand dunes, man- 
 groves, dull green scrub ; turning he saw the 
 sea it might be a half mile back purple sea 
 from blood-red ! 
 
 ' Corbe, this fellow stepped upon the deck. 
 On the instant the rotten planks cracked under 
 him, and he fell into the ship's hold. He told 
 me that he lay stunned all night ; and the next 
 morn his blood was like a mask upon his face.
 
 The Iron Stair 125 
 
 He lay propped upon a brass-bound chest ; 
 and the litter of fallen wood formed a pit 
 wherein he was held. Now on this chest lay 
 a skeleton the bones rotted into the wood, 
 the teeth and the skull seeming to bite into the 
 very chest the shred of a skeleton with the 
 garments long since blown away. 
 
 ' And, Corbe, this fellow, smashing in the 
 chest with a broken beam, looked on a great 
 and glittering treasure. There was a rosary, 
 and every bead was a pink pearl. And the cross 
 was of yellow gold, and the Christ upon it was 
 carven in fine ivory, and the blood of the 
 wounds were red gems rubies. There were 
 great dishes of gold and silver chased with the 
 figures of men and girls and strange monsters 
 and wonderful flowers. There were goblets of 
 fine glass or crystal rose-red, green glass and 
 blue ; the stems of the goblets were of gold 
 and shaped as fishes or as scaly serpents and 
 dragons ; a rusty dagger with the haft made 
 precious by its crust of sea-green emeralds. 
 There was much else, and all this rare stuff 
 was packed in with thin shrivelled leather 
 little bags one bursting as he lifted it and the 
 gold coins all jingling as they fell. 
 
 ' Corbe, the fellow took no more from this 
 treasure chest on the treasure ship than the 
 rosary and a handful of gems and a pocket of 
 gold. And finding water near he sailed again, 
 dreading to stay to take more, or to burden 
 his boat, lest the King's men capture him, and 
 he swing for it. He was picked up on the high 
 seas by a Dutch ship when he was nigh dying
 
 126 The Black House 
 
 of thirst and mad with fever. Yet reaching 
 Amsterdam he sneaked to London, finding me 
 there, who had known him ere he fell into dis- 
 solute ways.' 
 
 And suddenly, with a compelling voice, strident 
 and clear, ' Corbe, I tell you I am sick to 
 death of the monkish life I lead. I am not 
 old enough to be virtuous. I cannot sit me 
 down to die. I cannot make my peace with 
 heaven yet. I have not profited enough from 
 sinning to make my bargain with God for my 
 sins. ... I tell you that in my possession, 
 ready to hand, I have this fellow's chart, 
 mapped on a shred of rag a fish bone for pen ' 
 and his blood for ink. Corbe, if you'd be rich, 
 you shall share your fill. Dig into Mistress 
 Anne's coffers find the money as you will- 
 charter our ship and we'll be sailing. Corbe, 
 the sea calls to me again. I go, ere I sin ashore 
 beyond redemption. Or die without a sin 
 worth the sinning. Think of this treasure, 
 Corbe ! ' 
 
 ' Are you lying, Gandy ? ' 
 
 ' Why should I lie to you ? What have I 
 to gain ? Put it so. But I am poor, and must 
 take the pay of such as Pounds to play school- 
 master, gaoler what you will. A ship, Corbe, 
 and a search for this isle and its argosy, wrecked 
 centuries since. 
 
 ' And this, Corbe this precious gewgaw in my 
 hand is the rosary, with its rose-pink pearls, 
 and its ivory Christ, and its red gems to mark 
 His wounds ! '
 
 Chapter XVIII Malice of Mr. Corbe 
 
 NOW, all this while we had listened intently 
 behind the panel, Rob Orme and I, 
 attentive of every word of our preceptor ; yet, 
 if Rob were indeed of a like mind with me, 
 imagining that Mr. Gandy was very drunk. 
 About us the rats squeaked and scurried, 
 their fierce little eyes peering out of the black- 
 ness. The candle, shaded by Rob's jacket, 
 fluttering in the draught that came up from 
 the cavern, was burning low. But, though I 
 whispered in Rob's ear, ' Let's go back ! We'll 
 be lost in the dark ! ' I was ready enough to 
 linger and hear our pair of gentlemen out, 
 when Rob showed no sign of stirring. 
 
 ' The chart ; where's this chart ? ' Corbe was 
 muttering, thickly. 
 
 ' The chart is in my keeping. I am not so 
 foolish, Mr. Corbe, as to let it pass into your 
 hands without some surety. Find your ship 
 your crew Corbe men for choice, and myself 
 for your master ; and the chart is yours 
 as mine.' 
 
 ' You're not seeking to bargain with me, 
 Gandy ? ' Mr. Corbe 's voice was drunken and 
 menacing ' Let's have this chart ! ' 
 
 127
 
 128 The Black House 
 
 ' In good time, Corbe.' 
 
 ' I ask to see it now ! Where have you hid 
 it ? In that press there, with the Eastern 
 work ? In that chest ? ' 
 
 I believed that Mr. Gandy had slid between 
 him and the black press with the lacquered 
 work, as Mr. Corbe lurched to his feet. 
 
 ' So you have it there ? Show it to me ! ' 
 
 ' Mr. Corbe, pray sit down ! The wine's 
 by your hand.' 
 
 ' Not till I see the chart, or what you have 
 hid in that mystery-box. Not till I see/ 
 
 ' Mr. Corbe, pray sit down ! ' 
 
 ' Damn it, Gandy, it's for me to dictate ! ' 
 
 ' Not yet, Mr. Corbe, not yet ! ' 
 
 ' No ? When a word of mine Gandy, you're 
 forgettirg, you're surely forgetting what you 
 are ! And a word of mine 
 
 ' And a word of yours, Mr. Corbe, might 
 land me in Newgate.' 
 
 ' What's it your accursed bird's always shriek- 
 ing ? " Execution Dock ! " A man who's 
 played pirate on the high seas ! Who's burnt 
 the English ships that he's looted 
 
 ' Mr. Simon Gandy, Master of Arts pre- 
 ceptor whom Mr. Corbe . Finish my 
 
 sentence ! ' with sudden, strident wrath 
 ' Finish it for me ! And what you've said this 
 night what you've asked me to do offered 
 me gold for ! ' 
 
 ' And what you'll do for the price I'll 
 pay? ' 
 
 ' What I may or may not do. I tell you, 
 Mr. Corbe, that looking on you now, hearing
 
 Malice of Mr. Corbe 129 
 
 you threaten me, remembering what the vulgar 
 fellow Pounds said in this room what he 
 offered me I'm minded tempt me not too 
 far to set you and him by the heels ! A 
 gibbet in the shriek of the wind, said you ! 
 The wind shrieks, and the shutters creak, 
 hear ! Avert the omen. Fill your glass, Mr. 
 Corbe, fill your glass ! ' 
 
 With black and drunken rage, John Corbe 
 made answer. ' Gandy, don't threaten me ! 
 Who'd believe your word against mine ? A 
 word from Pounds who you are and Pounds 
 will speak the word when I'd have him speak 
 and the rope's twined for your neck ! ' 
 
 ' And the rope's twined for your neck and 
 his ! And Mistress Anne Corbe has her wish ! 
 And Roger Corbe's son comes to his own. All 
 this all this and only a word from me ! 
 Corbe, for what I was, for what I yet may 
 be again, I offer no defence to man. Such 
 as I am, such as I was, my Maker made me. 
 But I tell you, Corbe, that I am weary to 
 death of Pound's claim of a hold on me 
 claim of a hold from such as Pounds, claim 
 of a hold from such as you ! I tell you, Corbe, 
 that I am weary to death. Pounds knows 
 me, Pounds has the past of me, recorded in 
 that evil head of his. Pounds holds me from 
 the confession death-bed confession of the 
 rogue for whose defence I paid money spent 
 to no end. Pounds has my story from that 
 rogue turned off by Newgate ! I said to you 
 this night that the sea calls to me, that I'd 
 turn gentleman of fortune once again ! Aye, 
 
 9
 
 130 The Black House 
 
 the sea calls, as the land calls and my books, 
 and the thought of a quiet fireside and the 
 teaching 'of youth. There are two men in me 
 the scholar I was ; scholar I would have been 
 scholar I would be, save that the sea calls to 
 the other man in me, save that my youth 
 claws at me, draws me back 
 
 ' Gandy, what a palavering old dog you are ! ' 
 
 ' Have it so ! Pounds, when I would have 
 turned schoolmaster in very truth ; been happy 
 with my books and scholars, and put out of 
 my mind what's been. Pounds, your creature, 
 Pounds, it is compels me ' 
 
 ' My creature, Pounds ! ' spluttered John 
 Corbe. ' Egad ! Gandy, the old rogue would 
 play a double game with me. This boy to 
 find him with this boy at Corbe so near 
 
 when I had paid year in, year out, I'd paid , 
 
 Gandy, are you in league with him ? ' 
 
 ' Folly, John Corbe mere folly ! ' 
 
 ' The boy once gone Oh, God ! had I 
 
 but had the courage 
 
 ' The boy once dead, and you reigning at 
 Corbe ' 
 
 ' The boy once dead, Gandy ! ' 
 
 ' Not I/ said my preceptor. ' I'll have no 
 part in it.' 
 
 ' And yet and yet a ship goes to wreck, 
 The Virginian Gandy. And you and your 
 folks those lights upon the cliffs ! ' 
 
 ' I am no wrecker ! ' 
 
 ' Yet you wrecked ! ' 
 
 ' I am no wrecker ! Mark me, John Corbe 
 whatever I have been '
 
 Malice of Mr. Corbe 131 
 
 ' You He ! ' 
 
 ' I am a schoolmaster/ sneered Mr. Gandy, 
 smoothly ; ' and may teach you manners. John 
 Corbe, you're drunken ! Tis a very potent 
 wine ! I waste my time with you to-night. 
 To bed, man, to bed ! You'll have a sore 
 head in the morning.' His laughter mocked 
 and menaced. 
 
 ' Gandy your argosy ! And the ship you'd 
 have me charter ? How shall the ship be 
 chartered while Anne Corbe J 
 
 I know not how it chanced, but the candle 
 light, spluttering suddenly, scorched Rob Orme's 
 fingers. Ay?, and his curse a man's curse 
 rapped suddenly out on the air. And at John 
 Corbe's sudden exclamation, ' What's that ? ' 
 the pair of us, as stricken with sudden panic, 
 were scuttling through the dust and down the 
 stair. Swiftly we fled, swiftly we reached the 
 iron ladder to our room. And as we shot the 
 trap back to its rest, the candle, dipping in 
 the stick, burned out. Mr. Gandy, stepping 
 stealthily up the stairs, and drawing the curtains 
 to look down upon us, found the pair of us 
 sleeping placidly. But though it seemed his 
 fingers played nigh my face my throat I 
 had no terror of him, recalling what had passed 
 between him and my kinsman, John Corbe.
 
 Chapter XIX The Blue Tattoo Marks 
 
 ON the following morning Mr. Corbe rode 
 away from the Black House. As we 
 made our way down to the kitchen for our 
 breakfast, he stood booted and spurred upon 
 the terrace, communing with our preceptor. 
 Now, with the thought of the conversation of 
 the night before fresh in my mind, I could 
 not resist staring at him, as Rob and I were 
 passing by at Keziah's heels and though I 
 sought to set my look so that it should reveal 
 nothing of my thought of this new-found 
 kinsman of mine now I knew him my face 
 must have revealed something to him, or 
 perchance his thoughts centred on me as mine 
 on him. His face was leaden from his wining 
 of the night before ; but his eyes flared suddenly 
 at the sight of me, and his lips curled back. 
 Mr. Gandy, wrapped in his green cloak, and 
 looking grey and old in the morning chill, no 
 doubt noted the expression of his face, and 
 turned to regard us benevolently. 
 
 ' What would you not give, Mr. Corbe, as 
 I,' said he, ' to have the youth of these two 
 fellows ? ' 
 
 His laughter was thin and piping, as an old 
 
 132
 
 The Blue Tattoo Marks 133 
 
 man's. Whereat Mr. Corbe 's smile was bitter ; 
 and he tapped his riding boots impatiently 
 with his hunting crop. His eyes met mine, 
 fully blue eyes they were, as mine are blue 
 and out of them his hate for me looked forth. 
 Aye, I understood then his purpose of coming 
 to the Black House, me, who stood for peril 
 to him ; that, whatever part Mr. Pounds might 
 have played in separating me from my kin, 
 Corbe was consumed with terror lest the 
 attorney tricked him, lest, indeed, his hireling 
 for so I took the fellow Pounds to be had 
 purposed his coming with me to Corbe to hand 
 me over for a higher price to to maybe, to 
 the Mistress of Corbe. And I conjectured, as 
 I passed, on whether my guardian had, in truth 
 and fact, contemplated my restoration ; and 
 the bargain he had struck with John Corbe 
 that morning at The Gold Scales to stay his 
 hand. To Corbe I stood a menace, as he a 
 menace to me. And with his hold on Mr. 
 Gandy his knowledge of his past, and all the 
 law-breaking of his youth, when he played 
 freebooter, slaver, murderer had he, indeed, 
 broken down my preceptor's resistance of him, 
 and his refusal of the night before to do his bid- 
 ding ? His bidding and Gandy had murdered 
 on the cliff that morn ! His bidding and 
 night on night, since that day, Gandy had 
 drawn the curtains of our bed, and had stood 
 staring down on us contemplating what ? For 
 this thought for the thought of the mistress 
 of Corbe and what our meeting should reveal 
 to us, I was resolved that little time should
 
 134 The Black House 
 
 pass ere Rob and I were free from the Black 
 House, and seeking refuge in the Manor House 
 across the fenland. Out of the Black House- 
 how ? Watched morning, noon, and night- 
 prisoners in the ward of Gandy, one-eyed Ben, 
 Keziah and the blood hound, baying now within 
 the house. Should the secret stairway from 
 beneath the floor of our bed-chamber lead us 
 out ? Whither away did the gallery go- 
 through a secret panel into Candy's room ? 
 Out only by the cave wherein we had heard 
 the sea sounding, and whence the waves . and 
 the rolling of barrels had awakened us ? 
 
 Now all this while my mind was filled with 
 a g'eat happiness, from the realization born 
 of the conversation we had heard the night 
 before, while we lay hid. Surely I was Corbe 's 
 kinsman ; surely I was the son of the Corbe 
 of the Manor who was dead, and of his wife, 
 who yet dwelt in the house over the fens. Surely 
 I had but to come to her surely ! Yet how 
 came I in the ward of Pounds, fat, little, villainous 
 Pounds, attorney of Bow Street and the Old 
 Bailey ? Stolen away from my home, to 
 serve the ends of young John Corbe, next 
 of kin ? Lying awake in the night, I had 
 sought to force my memory back to the time 
 before I came into my guardian's keeping. I 
 could remember nothing. Dreams, only dreams, 
 and the dim recollection of a fair face seen 
 in my dreaming. Such a face as had looked 
 down upon me that night when first I lay 
 asleep in the Black House. Such a face and 
 yet I could recall . , , nothing , . , nothing !
 
 The Blue Tattoo Marks 135 
 
 I ate so little at breakfast that morn, that 
 Mistress Keziah talked of a proud stomach, 
 and a draught and pills had she the physick- 
 ing of me ! Rob Orme had a prodigious appe- 
 tite to make amends, it seemed, though I 
 noticed once his hand filch a roll from the table 
 and slide it down into his pocket, and I under- 
 stood that he laid in provisions for our essay to 
 escape from the Black House. And rejoiced 
 at the thought escape escape and an end to 
 the terrors of night and day, and our coming 
 to Corbe Manor and the lady who should give 
 us greeting. 
 
 I have written little of the seaman Ben. 
 Truth to tell, my association with the cross- 
 grained fellow till that day had been so slight 
 that he merited no further description from 
 me. He was quartered for the most in the 
 little lodge nigh the gate whereof he kept the 
 keys. This morn, when we were making from 
 the kitchen into the meadow, old Ben came 
 stumping round to the terrace leading Mr. 
 Corbe 's black horse. And with my knowledge 
 of my guardian in his cups, I perceived in- 
 stantly that the fellow was ripe with liquor. 
 Aye, ripe for he trolled a song, 'twas a shred 
 of a chanty, I took it ripe, for his nose was 
 very red, his lips slobbering, and his one eye 
 wild as with storm. And he rolled in his gait 
 as a ship on a stormy sea. Mr. Gandy yet stood 
 upon the terrace with Mr. Corbe, as Ben 
 approached, and we were making our way down. 
 And, instantly perceiving that Ben was very 
 drunk, our preceptor stepped forward, his fac
 
 136 The Black House 
 
 indicative of the liveliest indignation with his 
 retainer. Motioning us away with his cane, 
 Mr. Gandy pounced upon Ben, now propped 
 against the pillar at the foot of the steps. 
 
 Said Mr. Gandy, ' You drunken dog ! Give 
 me the rein, and be off with you to the gate ! ' 
 
 Thereupon hiccoughs Ben, ' Who's drunk ?- 
 Who's ' and added an anathema to my 
 ears it sounded much as ' swab.' 
 
 Mr. Gandy brushing past us hastily descended 
 the steps to snatch the bridle rein from him, 
 when the horse, a big mettlesome black 
 brute, pulled back, tore the rein from Ben's 
 limp grasp, and galloped off down the meadow. 
 Ben, stumbling from his support, sank down 
 heavily upon the step, cursing very foully 
 as he struck the stone. 
 
 ' Off with you ! ' snarled Mr. Gandy. ' Swill- 
 ing you've been till you're drunk ! you dog ! 
 Off with you ! ' standing over him and menacing 
 him with his cane, while the pair of us stood 
 on the steps staring at master and man. 
 
 ' Ay, drunk,' croaked Ben, ' drunk as a 
 fish ! Drunk with the rum from The Virgin- 
 ian ! That's why I'm drunk, that's why ! 
 And drunk 'cause of those who drowned 
 and cried out as they drowned And 
 'cause of all who's drowned aye, Cap'n 
 and burned an' bled when they've put into 
 this port. It's a port o' ghosts. It's a port 
 o' ' 
 
 With a bound Mr. Gandy was upon him 
 showing an agility and force remarkable in a 
 man of his years. His fine hands were grip-
 
 The Blue Tattoo Marks 137 
 
 ping Ben's throat to silence from us, and from 
 John Corbe now at the head of the steps 
 his servant's words, and their sinister im- 
 port. Old Ben let out a yell ere Mr. Gandy 
 gripped his throat, and his great hairy hand 
 and the hook shot up, and caught at his master's 
 wrists. Rob Orme and I had darted forward in 
 our excitement. So nigh were we that as Mr. 
 Gandy 's green sleeves fell back from his wrists, 
 as old Ben's hairy forearm was revealed, I 
 saw plainly on the right arm of each the same 
 blue shape tattooed. Across Mr. Gandy 's arm 
 a piece of steel it seemed for the strength of 
 it across Ben's fat, brown arm the one 
 shape, as some strange beast or reptile. Mr. 
 Gandy 's strength bore the seaman from his 
 feet, lifted him in air, and the blue tattoo mark 
 upon my preceptor's arm was plain to me. 
 And then I saw that it was formed as a tor- 
 toise, head and shell worked plate by plate 
 in blue. Suddenly the seaman crashed heavily 
 on the earth, and lay there senseless. 
 
 Mr. Gandy turned instantly upon us. His 
 face was flushed with his exertion, his steel 
 blue eyes shot fire, his lips were malevolent. 
 But, as if instantly controlling himself, he 
 smiled blandly upon us. 
 
 ' It's well,' says he smoothly, ' that you 
 should have witnessed this. After all, it's 
 well ! Strong drink excess, and an honest 
 fellow is no more than a fool.' And changing 
 his tone from preceptor to martinet, he barked 
 at us savagely, ' I'm not overlooking that you've 
 disobeyed me. I bade you begone and you're
 
 138 The Black House 
 
 here. You're yet undisciplined/ and he cuffed 
 my ears. ' The pair of you/ and he cuffed 
 Rob's. Now after Mr. Corbe's horse and lead 
 it here, while I look to this drunken fellow/ 
 
 We shot instantly from the steps into the 
 meadow, leaping over old Ben's recumbent 
 figure. I saw that his face was congested with 
 drink and his fall, and that the blood was 
 running from a cut over his left lug. But his 
 eye was already open, and he was staring up 
 to heaven, dazed, as well he might be, from 
 Mr. Gandy 's handling of him. And lord, 
 what a dance did John Corbe's horse lead the 
 pair of us round the meadow that morn. 
 
 Allowing us to sneak up nigh to him, 
 almost to catch his bridle, and then snorting 
 and plunging away. 'Twas a half-hour thence, 
 ere catching his foot in the hanging bridle, he 
 pulled up short and we took him captive. 
 And even so he reared, and almost broke away 
 from the pair of us would have broken away, 
 had not John Corbe come up, and catching his 
 head, mastered him. Leaping to saddle then, 
 without a word of thanks, and galloping round 
 the house and away. 
 
 Mr. Gandy had led off his disciplined retainer 
 ere we returned to the steps, though the blood 
 from Ben's ear lay in a little puddle on the 
 ground. We made our way up to the school- 
 room cheerlessly enough, anticipating that the 
 very deuce's own birching awaited the pair of 
 us. Howbeit, when Mr. Gandy made his ap- 
 pearance in the schoolroom placid of face, 
 spotless of linen, and neat of dress, he made
 
 The Blue Tattoo Marks 139 
 
 no further mention of the affair, and set him- 
 self easily to the expounding of the Commentar- 
 ies. But once when he rapped Rob's head with 
 his book, the laces slipped down from his wrist, 
 and I saw again the blue tortoise on his arm. 
 His keen eyes perceived my stare, and were 
 evil as he glared at me. Yet his tone was 
 silver still as he expounded the passage wherein 
 Rob Orme had floundered. Only over the 
 black letters of my book that morn I saw the 
 shape of the blue tortoise tattooed ; and I 
 had no thought of Gallic wars for wondering 
 what were the past associations of Mr. Gandy 
 and old Ben, and as a symbol of membership 
 of what old gang of rogues the sign of the 
 Blue Tortoise stained the flesh of both.
 
 Chapter XX Contents of the Lacquered Press 
 
 WE found no opportunity for a week thence 
 to explore further the vaults of the 
 Black House. Mr. Gandy watched us as a 
 cat might watch a pair of mice. His visits to 
 our bedside were repeated, his listening on 
 the stairs constant, unless the stairs creaked 
 under no human footsteps. We went, Rob and 
 I, in constant terror lest Keziah's broom, dis- 
 lodging the dust beneath the four-poster, 
 should reveal the existence of the trap- door, 
 and our hopes that the vaults would show us 
 the way from the Black House come to nothing. 
 Mr. Gandy was in his blandest most evil of 
 moods. His voice was silver ; his exposition 
 was never so clear ; our heads rang with his 
 rappings. But on no occasion did we so far 
 excite his wrath that he flogged us. Old Ben 
 was going groaning about with his head swathed 
 in a dirty clout ; his look when we passed him 
 was black, and his cursing under his breath 
 shook him as with coughing. Keziah's watch- 
 ful eye seemed never off us. When we dared 
 speak apart only in the meadow or furtively 
 as we lay abed we were all conjecture of the 
 meaning of the blue tortoise, and how it came 
 
 140
 
 Contents of the Lacquered Press 141 
 
 stamped on the arms of master and man, 
 and all hope that Gandy's caution would relax 
 and we be free to make a dash from the Black 
 House. 
 
 If we were dull as scholars, our apprehension 
 of Mr. Candy's prowess with his cane at least 
 kept us passively attentive. And though he 
 watched us for a week, so that we dare not 
 store up more scraps of food and candle ends 
 in anticipation of our escape, I saw that gradu- 
 ally his suspicions were lessening; he stole 
 less often to our bedside in the night and 
 listened less upon the stair. And at length 
 after a weary age it seemed he rode off from 
 the Black House on the Friday night for Corbe. 
 He would be absent till midnight, I heard him 
 tell Keziah, as I climbed the steps suddenly 
 from the meadow in the afternoon. Keziah 's 
 key was scarcely turned in the lock of our room, 
 ere Rob was probing with the knife he had 
 hid it perilously in the corner behind my box 
 for the spring of the trap- door. And, agreed 
 now to make our bid for fortune, we dragged 
 the box against the door of the room, and set 
 the chair against it, so that it might hold 
 out Keziah, if she sneaked up, ere we were 
 burrowing deep below the Black House. But 
 when we came to the foot of the iron ladder 
 and stood above the vault that seemed to go 
 down into the sea cave, we were put into the 
 very deuce of a panic by the sound of a voice 
 echoing up through the roll of the waters. 
 
 Tis Ben,' muttered Rob Orme, as we drew 
 back. ' Ben down in the cave. He's troll-
 
 142 The Black House 
 
 ing that chanty he sang the other day. Tis 
 there he gets the rum.' 
 
 ' Let's get away,' I whispered fearfully. 
 ' He'd murder us, I believe, if he found us here.' 
 
 In our stockinged feet we bore our shoes 
 strung by their laces about our necks we 
 scuttled off, across the platform, and by the 
 rat-haunted galleries, whither we had made 
 our first descent into the vaults. Rob had 
 succeeded in secreting away one of the lan- 
 terns which had shone from the cattle's horns 
 on the night of the wrecking ; thus our light 
 burned steadily and clearly and we made our 
 way with ease. Rats squeaked, scurried, 
 watched us with evil-glittering eyes ; but we 
 went on fearlessly through the bitter chill of 
 the vaults, until we stood [once more behind 
 the panels of Mr. Gandy's study. And now, 
 indeed, by the lantern light we perceived that 
 the panels were so set in as to slide apart, and 
 that the old mysterious owner of the Black 
 House had purposed to escape as easily from 
 the room as by the trap-door in the floor above. 
 Ere I knew, Rob had stuck the lantern into 
 my hands, and was striving to slide the panel 
 back. 
 
 ' What would you do ? ' cried I in terror. 
 ' D'ye want to be caught here ? ' 
 
 1 No, but I'm going to know what's in the 
 press ! That chart Gandy spoke of, if I can 
 move this panel,' all the while driving his 
 nails into the wood. 
 
 ' Rob, how do you know we can find a 
 way out yet ? We'll be taken ! Let's go
 
 Contents of the Lacquered Press 143 
 
 on/ for swinging the lantern I could make 
 out through the darkness that the gallery, 
 though narrowing, was not closed ahead. Even 
 as I spoke the panels cracked and parted easily, 
 and through the opening Mr. Gandy's study 
 was revealed. The lamp was lit, and the room 
 bright with light. The parrot stared at us from 
 its perch. No one was in the room. Rob 
 Orme, gliding in, slipped to the door, to turn 
 the key in the lock, but no key was there. 
 In the hall the hound growled uneasily. 
 
 ' Rob, let's away ! ' groaned I. 
 
 ' Not yet ! ' And he set a heavy chair 
 against the door. ' Not yet. I'll find out 
 what's in that chest I will though Gandy 
 kill me for it.' 
 
 So while I shuddered at the opening in the 
 panels, his knife was playing at the lock of the 
 lacquered chest. With age 'twas a rotten piece 
 of metal work swiftly he had prised it off, 
 and pulled open the door of the press. It 
 seemed that on the instant the room was rich 
 with spices, and bright with colours. Daring 
 in my curiosity to slip into the room at his 
 exclamation, I stood staring. I tell you that 
 from the silver hooks in the press hung a gor- 
 geous robe, of some rich Indian prince, I 
 did believe, and that it burned with golden 
 thread, and tiny gems green gems and blood- 
 red gems brocaded in patterns like flowers. 
 And that the perfume of it was as of flowers 
 or spices. But in the press with this golden 
 robe there was nought else, save a little box of 
 black wood, bound in silver and inlaid I saw,
 
 144 The Black House 
 
 when Rob snatched it up, with the shape of a 
 tortoise in blue sea-shell, having each plate 
 in a separate shred of sea-shell legs shaped 
 in silver, head shaped in silver, with two minute 
 blue gems for eyes. 
 
 ' The blue tortoise, ' whispered Rob, ' the 
 blue tortoise always that sign ! ' 
 
 ' Come away ! ' in an agony of terror I whis- 
 pered. ' Come away ! ' 
 
 And suddenly the parrot screeched from its 
 perch like a fiend. And the great hound set 
 up its baying. And as we rushed for the panel, 
 Rob bearing off the box and the lantern, the 
 handle of the door turned, and Mr. Gandy's 
 voice demanded angrily, ' Who's there ? ' 
 
 We were inside the panel, we were striving 
 to force it back, but it stuck fast and we could 
 not shift it. Instantly at the sound Mr. 
 Gandy propelled himself against the door. I 
 saw him cloaked and black I saw the flame 
 of his eyes, I saw the gleam of the pistol in 
 his hand while yet the accursed macaw 
 screeched from its perch and the hound bayed. 
 
 ' What's this ! Stand or I fire. You ! ' 
 
 And suddenly, as he saw us, the thick oak 
 panel shot from our fingers, back to its place. 
 And the room and Gandy were shut from my 
 sight ; and Rob and I were scurrying like two 
 rats down the steps that our lantern light 
 revealed to us. Down ! Down ! Into a great 
 pit ! Above us we heard the pistol bark, and 
 the roar of Gandy's great voice like the angry 
 sea, and the crash of his body against the 
 panels that shut him from us.
 
 Chapter XXI Flight 
 
 IN our panic we had no thought of our peril 
 of falling headlong into the pit. The lamp 
 swinging in my hands gave us scant light. 
 We were passing down a great tunnel, a 
 natural cave, I take it, hollowed out ages 
 since by the sea, and lending itself readily to 
 the purposes of the builder of the Black House 
 an additional way of escape. Sand gritted 
 under our feet, the chill about us was the chill 
 of the grave. And no sound reached us, when 
 an instant we paused to hear if Gandy had 
 broken in the panels and was after us. - ; 
 
 ' What are we to do,' gasped I, ' unless this 
 brings us out ? Rob, we're going deep down 
 into the earth. We'll never get out.' 
 
 ' Belike it leads to the bottomless pit,' he 
 answered, laughing in his excitement. ' Or 
 belike it makes to the Manor House. So far 
 as it goes we'll follow, Jim, we must ! We 
 can't go back now ! Come on, or Gandy will 
 be after us ! ' 
 
 Indeed, far above us I heard a crash as of 
 splintered wood, and believing that our pre- 
 ceptor had smashed down the panel that had 
 
 145 10
 
 146 The Black House 
 
 shut him from us, I had no thought save only 
 to be away. 
 
 ' Give me your hand,' cried Rob. ' We must 
 hold together, lest we fall.' 
 
 On we went, our pace impeded now by 
 deep sand piled up loosely, as if the winds blow- 
 ing through the secret caverns from the sea, 
 played over it at will. Swinging the lantern 
 high I saw that the gallery was growing narrower, 
 for the rocks lowered from the roof above us. 
 And dreading lest still our way should be cut 
 off, I sped on with Bob. We were walking 
 soon over a level floor of sand ; and the gallery 
 narrowed still. For the time we might walk 
 erect for the time but soon we were com- 
 pelled to bend low, I going ahead now with 
 the lantern, Rob clinging to the tail of my 
 jacket, so that we might not lose sight of one 
 another. Though we bumped our heads, and 
 though we struck against the rocks, rasping 
 the skin from knuckles and knees, we made 
 all the speed we might, believing that Gandy 
 would be hard upon our heels. 
 
 Aye, hard upon our heels ! For now afar 
 echoed through the galleries the baying of 
 the hound. Gandy had broken down the 
 panels and had loosed the hound upon us. 
 On now we scuttled, on, and all the while 
 the sound was growing nearer, nearer still, 
 nigh us. 
 
 ' I've the knife yet/ cried Rob. ' I can use 
 it on him. Come on, Jim ! ' 
 
 On now in so narrow a burrow that we were 
 bent nigh double. The hound was upon us.
 
 Flight 147 
 
 I heard his rush like the sweep of the wind. 
 ' Show the light/ gasped Rob, ' show the light 
 back/ 
 
 Even as I turned I saw the savage brute 
 bear him down. I uttered a cry that would 
 have done Gandy's heart good to hear, to 
 see the brute shaking him like a rat ; but even 
 as I dropped the lantern to fling myself upon 
 him, the hound gave a sudden howl of pain ; 
 and the blood from its throat splashed over my 
 hand. And it was struggling wildly in the 
 sand, and Rob Orme, staggering towards me, 
 caught my coat tail once more as on we went. 
 Happily the burrow opened out almost imme- 
 diately, and with the lantern yet burning 
 clearly, thanks to Ben's wrecking, with a very 
 clear and penetrating light, we made out that 
 we were in a vast and vaulted chamber. Breath- 
 less and shaken in our flight and the terror of 
 the hound, still howling in agony from Rob's 
 knife we paused an instant, and to make 
 out our way thence I held the lantern high. I 
 saw then the wall, it was black and glittering 
 as with veins of ore, going up in rough black 
 pillars to the roof. Above us a shape was 
 wheeling like a ghost wheeling, dipping on 
 noiseless wing a great bat, I saw, and I re- 
 joiced, for assuredly an outlet lay ahead. Yet 
 for a moment my heart was in my mouth for 
 terror of this flitting phantom so it seemed 
 to me. 
 
 ' Keep to the wall/ ' I muttered to Rob. 
 ' Come on, man, don't stay. Gandy will surely 
 slit our throats if he takes us here ! Rob ! '
 
 148 The Black House 
 
 For he was sick and shaken from his encounter 
 with the great hound, his body quivering 
 yet, when I threw my arm about him, and so 
 forced him on with me. Under the wall then 
 we stole, the lantern light reflected from 
 the glittering veins in the stone. Glittering 
 il.umined and, oh God, a shape in a niche 
 in the wall. Human it had been human 
 the thing's soul had fled long since yet it 
 was propped in the niche in the rocks only 
 the skull of it, and the ribs and the backbone 
 the arm bones and the legs fallen away. Lord, 
 how the skeleton grinned upon us, as stifling 
 a cry of terror, I forced Rob past it and sped 
 on ! How came it there ? What was the 
 death of it ? And my heart was beating with 
 terror for the thought that it came as we 
 came into the vaults, and it died as we must 
 die. Rob said no word, nor I, but the bat 
 flitted on ahead of us as a ghost, wheeling, 
 flew back into the light, recoiling, still went on. 
 
 The way was narrowing again into a tunnel. 
 And behind us far behind us the flicker of 
 light. Gandy was nigh Ben with him. I 
 heard their voices, I heard Mr. Gandy cursing 
 as foully as ever he could have cursed on the 
 deck of his ship, when he sailed on an evil 
 cruise. Therefore, the pair of us sped down 
 the gallery a winding gallery, in and out 
 now narrow, now open once with a green 
 glimmer of light above us, a break in the cliffs, 
 that gave us hope an instant, till the lamp 
 showed us that the wall went sheer, and we 
 might not climb. But the moonlit heaven
 
 Flight 149 
 
 was shown above us, and the racing clouds, 
 through the fern and grass blown by the wild sea 
 wind. The water dripped down from the peat 
 like rain. The bat flew up into the night. 
 Round we went and round, finding no foothold 
 still ; at last taking the tunnel again and pass- 
 ing on. Now the stone walls were wet and 
 slimy ; and the water ran beneath our feet, 
 and the water dripping from the rocks above 
 us in that black burrow drenched us to the 
 skin. Gandy's voice still Gandy's cursing 
 risking all, on we plunged ! 
 
 Nigh us aye, nigh us ; splashing, splutter- 
 ing, struggling, cursing nigh us, and gaining 
 on us. Only the narrowness of the gallery 
 saved us. Aye, so nigh as we sped in wild panic, 
 that each instant I did believe Gandy's claw 
 would shoot out and drag us back. 
 
 ' Come back ! Halt, the pair of you. D'ye 
 hear me, halt ! ' 
 
 Suddenly the night opened before us. We had 
 darted out into a wide and sandy cavern. I 
 saw the white moon fly through the clouded 
 night, the lashing boughs about the mouth 
 of the cavern, the fens below us. Aye, and 
 across the fens nigh at hand the Manor House, 
 cut black against the night, and a golden star 
 of light shining from one high window. All 
 this all this while Rob Orme and I dashed 
 out from the cave, and Gandy's voice came 
 bellowing after. Through the furze that tore 
 our flesh, and on the very face of the cliff above 
 the fens. And finding no way down halting 
 trapped. The lantern smashed from my
 
 150 The Black House 
 
 hand. I saw Mr. Gandy's black figure plunge 
 from the tunnel his lamp swinging high, his 
 pistol agleam I saw his face, and the devil of 
 passion on it, and the flame of his eyes ! 
 
 ' At last ! At last my gentlemen ! ' rush- 
 ing upon us. 
 
 Rob screaming in my ear, ' Jump, Jim, 
 jump. For God's sake, jump ! ' 
 
 So caring nothing now save only to keep 
 from those cruel hands, I leaped down the 
 face of the cliff. Down through the furze 
 and brush that tore my shirt from my back 
 down with a rush of rubble, Rob and I.
 
 Chapter XXII The Manor House 
 
 I LANDED on my back in a bed of furze. 
 I lay staring up, dazed for the while. I 
 had a sense of the cold sky above me, silver- 
 blue lit by the moon and a myriad stars. I 
 believed even that I was lying on the four- 
 poster . and that I waited only for Mr. Gandy 
 to draw the curtains and look down upon me. 
 It was the dread of Gandy, I think, that roused 
 me from my half stupor. I staggered to my 
 feet, tearing my hands painfully on the furze. 
 And giddy from my slide down the face of the 
 cliff I saw it go black above me I stumbled 
 out of the furze bush, and stood shakily look- 
 ing about me dully for Rob. To my joy I saw 
 him leaning againsjt the base of the cliff, the 
 box under his arm, though we had lost the 
 lantern. 
 
 ' Rob, are you hurt ? ' gasped I. 
 
 ' Jim ! No ! Not hurt. I was stunned a 
 minute, I think ! Come away ! ' gripping my 
 hand and dragging me off. ' Gandy 11 have us 
 
 yet.' 
 
 ' Why didn't he jump after us ! ' 
 
 ' Afraid ! He's climbing down. I heard the 
 
 151
 
 152 The Black House 
 
 brushwood crash above me ! And a stone fell 
 just as you called. He's climbing down/ Rac- 
 ing on, arm linked in mine. 
 
 Peering back as we drew out from the shadow 
 of the cliff, I saw the cave black against the 
 grey face of the cliff, and the furze dull green 
 against it, and a shape dark and sinister against 
 it Gandy's climbing slowly down. No glim- 
 mer of Gandy's lantern no sign that Ben was 
 with him. But the sight of his black shape 
 against the cliff descending slowly in the 
 thought, no doubt, to find our bodies lying 
 broken on the rocks, lent sudden strength to 
 me and speed. Silently we ran then down the 
 slope. 
 
 From the white moon our way was clear. 
 We were racing down a grassy incline into a 
 little wood beyond it still, I marked, ere we 
 shot down into the gloom of the trees, the line 
 of the fens, the reeds, the gleam of silent 
 waters beyond, the tower of Corbe with its 
 beacon of gold light. And at the thought of 
 her who should await me there Mistress 
 Anne Corbe my heart leaped, and my mind 
 was filled with joy. 
 
 Now the woodland had us ; now the moon- 
 light was broken by interlacing boughs, though 
 the leaves were falling for winter. Under our 
 feet rustled the leaves pattering they fell 
 upon us ; easily we went on down a glade that 
 with interplay of silver light and dark, as the 
 wind rustled through the boughs above, seemed 
 enchanted. Silently we ran on, hearing no 
 sound yet of Gandy, going so swiftly that I
 
 The Manor House 153 
 
 was nigh out of breath, and my legs weakened 
 beneath me. 
 
 We leaped across a little stream, we landed 
 in a bed of reeds, scaring the wild duck that 
 flew up flapping blindly into the night. And 
 their infernal clamour, I knew, must bring Gandy 
 in our direction. We scurried on at times 
 plashing in icy water at times racing high 
 and dry, and for the heat of our flight taking 
 no injury from the chill. So at last we came 
 out on the open marshes whence the stream 
 ran down to the village. I saw before us, 
 as we stood on that last bank, silver waters 
 and grey reeds, beyond the walls of the 
 Manor House, and high over a dark cloud of 
 trees the gold star shining in the turret. And 
 the moon was out on the marshes, all was 
 silver- white and silver-grey and mystical ; 
 afar an owl screeched through the night like a 
 ghost. But nigh a quarter mile of fenland lay 
 between us and our haven, and we must yet 
 cross the waters, ere we came into the domain 
 of Mistress Anne Corbe. 
 
 Gandy ! His black, sinister figure seemed to 
 loom up through the darkness of the wood 
 whence we had come. Gandy the thought of 
 him lent to us a daring we had not else possessed. 
 And ' Jim/ cries Rob, ' can you swim, if 
 need be ? Those pools deep they may be. ' 
 
 I was nigh sobbing as I answered. ' I can't 
 swim, but I'd sooner drown than let Gandy 
 take me now.' 
 
 ' I '11 help you across, ' Rob muttered. ' There' s 
 no other way. Wait/ and pointed ahead of us
 
 154 The Black House 
 
 to a black line across the waters. Stepping 
 stones going through the fens toward Corbe 
 Manor. 
 
 Darting forward then and crying over his 
 shoulder, ' Be careful lest you slip from the 
 stones and be drowned/ he leaped lightly 
 through the reeds and reached the first stone. 
 And so from stone to stone we stepped, going 
 securely through the moonlight, the water 
 silver on either side shallow water, I was to 
 learn, though treacherous with bog and deep 
 holes at intervals crossed by the line of stones 
 set there years since by some old Master of 
 Corbe. 
 
 On went Rob, leaping from slippery stone to 
 stone after him went I. We were midway 
 in the open space of silver water ere Gandy 
 espied us. I heard his voice sound across the 
 water, and for the terror of it nigh pitched head 
 over heels into the water. And casting one 
 look back saw him clear upon the bank, a 
 tall, gaunt figure, hatless, white hair stream- 
 ing in the wind, white face the gleam of the 
 pistol in his hand. 
 
 ' Come back ! D'ye hear me ! Come back ! ' 
 the voice went echoing across the meres. On 
 now we 'sped ; and sudden through the night 
 his pistol barked after us, and it seemed the 
 ball whizzed nigh my ears. On hearing 
 him following, aye, and as we neared 
 the shore, and bending low burst through the 
 reeds, we heard suddenly a loud splash and yell 
 of rage as he lost his footing and fell. We were 
 on firm ground once more, on the bank, ere
 
 The Manor House 155 
 
 pausing to look back we saw our preceptor 
 rise, streaming with water, and draw himself 
 up on to the stepping stones. I tell you his 
 curses were worthy of the quarter-deck. And 
 that our derisive laughter echoing across the 
 meres was most unseemly. Hand in hand 
 then the pair of us raced forward to the wall 
 of Corbe, now facing us black and high in 
 the night. 
 
 Under the wall we raced, until we came 
 before a great iron-studded gate. In the old 
 time Corbe assuredly had been a fortress. And 
 with the terror of Gandy pressing hard on us, 
 we raised a most infernal clamour at the gate, 
 pounding it with our fists, and shouting for 
 admission. Thereat arose the baying of dogs, 
 and presently heavy boots clattered over flags, 
 and a gruff voice demanded, ' Who's there ? 
 Who's there ? ' 
 
 ' Open,' cried Rob. ' Open the gate for 
 God's sake, open the gate ! Unless you'd have 
 murder done.' 
 
 The fellow came shambling down to the gate ; 
 the gleam of his lantern shone through. 
 And says he, ' Who's there ? I'll put a ball 
 into your head, if you try any tricks with me. 
 What's your name ? ' 
 
 ' Please please open,' piped Rob. 
 
 Taking courage from a boy's voice the fellow 
 drew back the bars, slowly opened the gate on 
 the chain. 
 
 I saw that he was a big fellow round and 
 rubicund and grey and that the bell-mouth 
 of his ancient blunderbuss covered us, though
 
 156 The Black House 
 
 he lacked caution, for his lantern placed him 
 fully in the light for us, whereas the pair of 
 us were hid to him in the shadow of the gate. 
 
 ' Who are ye ? ' demanded he. ' Who's with 
 ye ? What mischief are ye after ? Corbe folk, 
 hey ? ' 
 
 'No, sir,' cried I. 'We've got away from 
 the Black House. Gandy will murder us if 
 he takes us. We seek Mistress Corbe.' 
 
 ' And who may ye be ? ' 
 
 ' Sir, don't keep us here. I tell you I must 
 have speech with the mistress. My name is 
 Corbe ! ' I ventured. Then, believing that I 
 heard the reeds crackle under Candy's feet, 
 ' I think I think she seeks me ! ' 
 
 ' Hey hey what ? Name's Corbe ? What ? 
 Well, in you come, the pair of you. In you 
 come ! And, mark me, any tricks and off goes 
 this ! ' fingering the blunderbuss. ' And your 
 heads with it. Come in,' letting down the 
 chain, and admitting Rob and me. The gate 
 clashed after us and if Mr. Gandy heard the 
 sound, shutting him off from us, I could well 
 imagine the fervency of his curses. My one 
 dread now was lest he should have the hardi- 
 hood to demand admission, and insist upon 
 his claim to us, ere I had speech with the Mis- 
 tress of Corbe. 
 
 Round and rubicund clad in a greatcoat, 
 breeches, tops was the fellow who had admitted 
 us, his blunderbuss in his right hand, his lan- 
 tern and his keys swinging in his left. And 
 looking down upon us with a humorous eye, 
 says he, ' You're a precious pair of rogues, I
 
 The Manor House 157 
 
 promise ! From the Black House hey ? Run 
 away have ye ? From the schoolmaster ? The 
 schoolmaster ho ho ho ! ' 
 
 ' We went in terror of our lives from him, ' 
 answered Rob. 
 
 ' Flogged you hey ? Is that why you come 
 here hey ? ' 
 
 ' Sir,' said I, ' I tell you I must have speech 
 with your mistress. Is she within ? ' 
 
 ' Corbe ! ' muttered he, flashing the lantern 
 in my face. ' You say your name's Corbe ? 
 What Corbe ? There's none of the name your 
 age ? ' scanning my features. And muttering 
 to himself suddenly, ' Corbe why it can't 
 be ? ' and pointing the blunderbuss at us. 
 ' Go ahead. I'll take you to the mistress. 
 Down oh, damme, down ! ' to the hounds 
 straining at their chains and baying savagely. 
 
 We were in a low-lying court that went 
 about the house, and the lights from the door- 
 way showed a flight of steps going up to its 
 front. The flood of light streamed out as in 
 welcome to me. I had no thought now of 
 Gandy. Only for this great grey pile illumined 
 by the moon, its ivy covered front, the high 
 tower with the lamp shining like a star of gold. 
 Out of the blackness of the court the pair of 
 us climbed the steps to meet in the porch- 
 way a stout woman, in mob cap and profusely 
 flowered gown, who, looking on us with bright 
 and curious eyes, demanded of our custodian 
 
 ' Where are these lads from ? What do 
 they want ? ' 
 
 ' They've run away from the Black House,'
 
 158 The Black House 
 
 he answered. ' One of them says they want 
 to see the mistress. Says he's a Corbe.' 
 
 I saw the woman throw her hands up into the 
 air, and heard her gasp of astonishment, as she 
 made way before us. And murmur excitedly 
 to our guard, ' It can't be, surely. Oh, it 
 can't be ! '
 
 Chapter XXIII Mistress Anne Corbe 
 
 I HAD the sense on me as I stood ragged 
 and mud-bespattered with Rob in a like 
 case staring into the lighted hall of Corbe 
 that all this I had known long since the very 
 glow of the yellow lamp, the open doors cased 
 with iron in patterns of fantastic beauty. And 
 when the serving-woman standing aside allowed 
 our custodian to usher us into the hall a 
 draggle-tailed pair I had still the same sense 
 of familiarity on me the great oaken floor 
 with its Turkey carpet, the oaken panelling, 
 the portraits of dead and gone Corbes peering 
 down from the walls, the oaken stairway to 
 the right, the hearth whereon the logs were 
 blazing, the mantel of white marble, the 
 portrait of the lady in a sky-blue gown and the 
 high collar sewn with pearls, who looked out of 
 her golden frame with the blue eyes of the 
 Corbes. A lovely lady of the days when the 
 second Charles was King of England, lips 
 like a rose, laughing eyed and full bosomed. 
 On either side of the fire was placed a cushioned 
 settle ; before the doors old tapestried cur- 
 tains hung, a precious strip of tapestry wrought 
 in old gold and blue and crimson covering 
 
 159
 
 160 The Black House 
 
 the spaces of the walls between every portrait. 
 And these men and women of the house of Corbe 
 peered down from the walls on me I had 
 this fancy as if they welcomed me. 
 
 None the less abashed and having a pretty 
 realization that my jacket was ripped from 
 collar to tail, and that my pantaloons were in 
 tatters from my leap down the cliff, I stood 
 with Rob faltering on the threshold till the 
 serving-man propelled us forward, and the good 
 woman motioned us to the fire, watching me, I 
 saw, with curious eyes. 
 
 ' I'll tell the mistress/ she said. ' Keep 
 them here, John, by the fire/ And murmur- 
 ing then, ' Dear heart dear heart alive/ 
 rustled away and climbed the stair. 
 
 Old John, yet goggling at me, mounted guard 
 over us, though bidding us heartily enough, 
 ' Warm ye, lads warm ye by the fire. The 
 mistress will be here in a trice/ 
 
 Rob and I, chilled to the bone from splashing 
 through the mire, and our dank sweat-soaked 
 clothes, stood silently by the fire. And my 
 heart was pounding in my breast, my head 
 was swimming. If it should be and if it 
 should be ? But what proof had I more than 
 the conversation that had passed between 
 Gandy and John Corbe ? Every instant antici- 
 pating a clamour at the gate, and our pre- 
 ceptor's demand that we be handed over to 
 him. 
 
 But presently down the stairs there came 
 skimming lightly as a girl a little lady. Her 
 silken gown was black no touch of colour
 
 Mistress Anne Corbe 161 
 
 only with delicate ivory laces at throat and 
 wrists, a silver-white scarf about her hair 
 and passing beneath her chin. She was fair 
 as a girl, though her cheek was wan, and her 
 lips piteous ; her eyes I saw when she flitted 
 forward, and stood facing us, were violet 
 coloured ; her hair straying in rebellious curls 
 beneath her scarf was gold coloured. Her 
 hands were clasped at her bosom, as she spoke 
 to us, and she shook as with excitement, her 
 voice tremulous. 
 
 ' You asked to see me. I am Mrs. Corbe. 
 Who are you ? Why have you come ? 
 
 I could not answer. I would have said, ' I 
 think you are my mother/ Having no proof 
 than the word of the wastrel John Corbe, 
 not knowing what had chanced in the past, 
 what tragedy had crossed her life, and see- 
 ing this little lovely lady in her rich gown 
 mistress of the great house I stood abashed, 
 cheeks burning, eyes cast down. 
 
 She said again, ' Who are you ? One of 
 you they tell me says his name is Corbe.' 
 And leaning forward, looking into my face, 
 ' Was it you ? Is your name Corbe ? Whose 
 son are you ? ' 
 
 I could say nothing for the lump in my 
 throat. Rob Orme, standing boldly forward, 
 said quietly, ' Mrs. Corbe, we have run away 
 from the Black House. Mr. John Corbe, your 
 kinsman, came to this house some nights ago. 
 And we heard what he said to Mr. Gandy, from 
 whom we have run away. That is why Jim 
 here said his name was Corbe.' 
 
 ii
 
 162 The Black House 
 
 ' I do not understand/ she faltered, drawing 
 back. 
 
 ' Madam, John Corbe your kinsman said 
 not dreaming that we heard he said to Gandy 
 that he had paid for years to keep Jim here 
 away from Corbe.' 
 
 ' Paid whom ? ' 
 
 ' An attorney in London one Pounds, Jim's 
 guardian/ 
 
 ' I do not know the name/ 
 
 ' Madam, this fellow Gandy spoke of a 
 treasure overseas and John Corbe 's charter- 
 ing of a ship. And that for the chartering your 
 guineas should pay. And they quarrelled, these 
 two, Corbe pressing Gandy to to make away 
 with Jim here, threatening him with some know- 
 ledge of Gandy 's past. Says Gandy if Corbe 
 speak denounce him Mistress Ann Corbe 
 should have her wish, and Roger Corbe's son 
 come to his own/ 
 
 She uttered a sharp and sudden cry. An 
 instant she stood staring hands stretched out 
 before her, then leaning forward once again, 
 took my hands eyes searching into mine. 
 
 And, ' Child/ cries she, ' child who are 
 you ? What do you know of John Corbe ? 
 Answer me ! You name yourself Corbe who 
 are you ? ' 
 
 ' My guardian Pounds in London named 
 me James Thorne/ I faltered. ' He brought 
 me here, and at The Gold Scales we met Mr. 
 Corbe. And he seemed angry, as if he knew 
 me. And then we heard what he said to 
 Gandy. That is all/
 
 Mistress Anne Corbe 163 
 
 Her hands dropped mine clasped at her 
 breast. ' No more ! You know no more ? 
 Nothing ? When did you come into your 
 guardian's keeping ? ' 
 
 ' When I was a little child.' 
 
 ' A little child ! You can remember when 
 you were taken to his house ? You must 
 remember something before that time.' 
 
 Choking I answered, ' I can't remember any- 
 thing anything. I seem always to have been 
 in his house. Nothing ! Nothing ! Only 
 only I seem to know this place. And 
 you ' 
 
 She gasped for breath and the serving- 
 woman put her arm about her. Pointing at 
 me with shaking hand Mistress Corbe whis- 
 pered to her, ' Martha for God's sake ! 
 Look at the child ! Tell me can it be is it 
 possible ? ' 
 
 Old Martha's kindly eyes looked into mine. 
 And slowly she said, ' He has the Corbe eyes, 
 ma'am ! And the Corbe look. As like as 
 like Mr. Roger when he was a boy ! And 
 when he spoke just now, it seemed as Mr. 
 Roger was speakin' years ago ! And some- 
 where he's livin'. Your boy's livin'. Just 
 his years just as he'd be ! Only only 
 ma'am John Corbe can speak. John Corbe 
 knows. And he comes to-morrow . . . ' 
 
 ' To-morrow how can I wait till to-morrow ? 
 Not to know looking on him, Martha how 
 can I wait ? ' And suddenly stretching out her 
 hands to me, 'Child child isn't there aught 
 you can remember ? Me ? This house ?
 
 164 The Black flouse 
 
 Where you were, where my son was. Can't 
 you remember ? ' 
 
 As I bent my head and stood dully before 
 her, she turned from me and her sobbing tore 
 at the very heart of me.
 
 Chapter XXIV The Bag of Yellow Silk 
 
 I KNOW not whether or not 'twas the sound 
 of her piteous sobbing that now brought 
 into the hall from some inner room a gentle- 
 man. To the left of the stairway hung a 
 tapestried curtain, this being drawn suddenly 
 aside revealed this gentleman, whom for the 
 moment I took to be John Corbe, for he was 
 of like height and figure. But eyeing him hope- 
 lessly, while Mrs. Corbe clung to her serving- 
 woman, I saw that he was a stranger to me 
 that whereas John Corbe 's face was wine- 
 flushed ever, this gentleman's face was bronzed 
 with the sun and the sea nigh to the richness 
 of Mr. Candy's complexion. His red hair 
 tumbled in a wild profusion over his brow ; 
 he was shaven cleanly ; mouth, high nose and 
 steel grey eyes marking his disposition for 
 imperiousncss. His fine body was clad in an old 
 and ill-fitting scarlet hunting coat ; his linen 
 was frilled ; he wore buckskins and top-boots 
 in a villainous state of disrepair. An instant 
 he faltered by the curtain, then says he, ' For- 
 give me, Mrs. Corbe, I had no idea. I am 
 intruding ' with the accompaniment of a very 
 polite bow. 
 
 As he would have withdrawn, Mrs. Corbe 
 
 165
 
 i66 The Black House 
 
 removed from the support of Martha's arm, 
 and lifting up her tear-stained face beckoned 
 to him to approach. He came stepping to- 
 wards us, a very handsome figure of a gen- 
 tleman for all the clear fact that he was wear- 
 ing another man's clothes. 
 
 ' Mr. Erskine,' murmured Mrs. Corbe, ' I 
 beg that you '11 spare a moment. These lads 
 are from the Black House, the house on the 
 cliffs. Whence you tell me that the night of 
 the storm you saw the lanterns burn.' 
 
 Whereat I felt Rob clutch my arm. 
 
 ' I ask you to forgive my tears. Something 
 something that this child has said to me 
 has torn open an old, a very deep wound.' 
 
 ' If there be aught in which I can repay a 
 
 little of my debt to you ' he began, as he 
 
 stood by her side. 
 
 She drew away to the settle facing us, and 
 sitting there, whispered as she dried her eyes; 
 ' Alas, there is nothing, sir nothing that you 
 can do in this. Only one man can help me 
 one man living. But, Mr. Erskine, these 
 lads have run away from the Black House. It 
 has an ill-repute its master is one Gandy, 
 who has been living there these few years. 
 And passes as a schoolmaster. The lads are 
 his pupils. But, sir, ' the lights you tell of 
 that wrecked your ship that night 
 
 Instantly Rob blurted out. ' There were 
 lights from the cliff the night The Virginian 
 went on the rocks. Lights on the high cliff, 
 and lanterns on the heads of Candy's cattle. 
 And his man, Ben, I'll vow, driving them.
 
 The Bag of Yellow Silk 167 
 
 They're wreckers in the Black House, smug- 
 glers. Aye, and there was murder done on the 
 cliffs next morn, and we have gone since in 
 terror of our lives.' 
 
 Mrs. Corbe gasped ; the servants' eyes gog- 
 gled at us ; the gentleman regarded us with 
 intent and piercing gaze. ' Is this the truth, 
 boy ? ' demanded he. 
 
 ' It's the truth, yes/ answered Rob. ' Jim 
 here and I saw the lights, didn't we, Jim ? ' 
 I nodded. ' And next day, getting outside the 
 wall about the Black House, we heard Gandy 
 speaking to some poor fellow from the wreck. 
 Only, when we saw Gandy there was none save 
 he upon the cliffs. Gandy flogged us nigh to 
 death. That's why we escaped from the Black 
 House, by a secret stair. Taking this box 
 from Gandy 's study,' holding out suddenly the 
 black casket with the imprint of the blue tor- 
 toise. ' See, the blue tortoise on it. The blue 
 tortoise is tattooed on Gandy's right arm, and on 
 his man Ben's. What it means we don't know.' 
 
 Staring, the gentleman took the box from his 
 hands, examining curiously the little silver and 
 pearl-shell figure of the blue tortoise with the 
 gems for eyes. 
 
 ' Always that sign,' cries Rob. ' What Gandy 
 has been 'tis easy to guess from his speech 
 from what passed between him and John Corbe 
 the other night. Slaver pirate he's been. 
 Wrecker we think him murderer ! ' 
 
 ' What is your name, child ? ' faltered Mrs. 
 Corbe. 
 
 ' Robert Orme, madam, at your service. My
 
 1 68 The Black House 
 
 father was of the Honourable East India Com- 
 pany. My kinswoman placed me with Gandy 
 I think for the sake of the stock that is my 
 heritage. Madam sir you, maybe, think me 
 lying. I tell you I have said nothing that is 
 more than the truth. Will you listen to us 
 patiently hear what has been our lot in the 
 Black House ? For God's sake hear us ! And 
 believe us ! For in truth Gandy and his folk 
 were our gaolers, and 'twas never meant that 
 we should come out of the Black House alive. 
 Mrs. Corbe, whatever Jim here proves to be 
 kin of yours or no kin I ask you to stand his 
 friend and mine. And never to give us up to 
 Gandy ; but be our friend/ 
 
 ' Child/ she answered steadily, ' you speak of 
 strange things terrible things. At least I 
 have known long since of lawless doings on the 
 coast of Corbe. I know that the men of Corbe 
 live by smuggling. But this man Gandy 
 murder wrecking ! ' 
 
 ' Mrs. Corbe/ cries Erskine, breaking in, ' the 
 lights burned from the cliff that night. With 
 my own eyes I saw them, ere my ship made in, 
 thinking to find port from the storm. Pray 
 let us hear the lads' story.' 
 
 ' Only, Mrs. Corbe/ said Rob, looking towards 
 the open door, ' Gandy followed us nigh here. 
 Hark to the dogs. He is about this place, and 
 he spells danger to us maybe to you and your 
 folk. He will not let us lie quiet here, knowing 
 that we will speak, and that we have this box. 
 He has a pistol, and he's in league with the men 
 of Corbe/
 
 The Bag of Yellow Silk 169 
 
 She rose instantly from her seat. ' John/ 
 cries she, ' see that the gates are barred and 
 the dogs loosed. And call Robert from the 
 stables to keep watch. You, Martha, go to 
 the kitchen, and bid the maid close the shutters. 
 Bring food and wine for these lads into the 
 library. Mr. Erskine, if you please, well go with 
 them, and hear their story.' 
 
 He gave her his arm, and holding aside the 
 curtain led the way from the hall, through a 
 door to the left, and into a great and noble 
 room. It had the smell of leather in it, the 
 bindings of the books that tooled and gilded 
 went high up the walls. Above them old paint- 
 ings of Italian masters hung in gold ornate 
 frames, the chimney-piece was of white marble, 
 as the chimney-piece in the hall, the furnish- 
 ings of old black oak, the chairs covered with 
 worn leather. A dull blue curtain hung half 
 back from the high window, and through it 
 I caught a gleam of the moon upon the terrace, 
 and the black green of the trees in the garden. 
 
 The Mistress of Corbe, moving to the hearth, 
 motioned us to chairs on either side, all the 
 while watching me with eyes that burnt into 
 mine. I had a sense that she was striving by 
 scrutiny of my look and feature to be sure; 
 I had a sense that whatever John Corbe might 
 or might not tell she knew the kinship be- 
 tween us, even as I knew it, while it drew the 
 heart out of me. This little lady, delicate and 
 fine, was assuredly my mother ; this much 
 we knew aye, knew though proofs for her I 
 had none, save John Corbe 's words, and the
 
 170 The Black House 
 
 sense of familiarity which had shone upon my 
 mind illumined nothing clearly for me. Strive 
 as I might I could not turn my mind back, 
 beyond my first recollection of the house of 
 Pounds, the kitchen, Miss Lavinia and the 
 serving-woman. 
 
 Rob Orme and I sat stiff and straight upon 
 our chairs before the fire. Erskine, pushing 
 forward a little table, set on it the casket, and 
 drawing up his chair fell to examining it. It 
 was locked, and Gandy alone could have the key. 
 I watched the gentleman's fine white fingers 
 play over the box ; presently, failing to un- 
 clasp it, he was prising at the fastening with 
 his knife, until suddenly the lock snapped and 
 the lid shot open. Within lay a bag of yellow 
 silk. 
 
 Pulling this open, Erskine tumbled the con- 
 tents upon the board. Instantly it seemed 
 that the dark oak was illumined with magical 
 fires, for on the table lay the precious crucifix 
 and the rosary that Gandy had shown John 
 Corbe. 
 
 'The crucifix/ cried Rob. 'The crucifix 
 from the wreck! Gandy didn't lie.' 
 
 Now every bead of the rosary was a splendid 
 pearl, and the light of the moon was on them 
 and the rose of dawn. And the cross was 
 fashioned in gold, and the figure of the Christ was 
 carven in ivory, and the blood of His wounds 
 was represented in blood-red gems. When 
 Erskine held up the precious thing it burned 
 in many-coloured fires, so for the time I did 
 believe that the thoughts of all of us centred
 
 The Bag of Yellow Silk 171 
 
 wholly on its beauty, and the allurement of the 
 sea pearls. Beyond the rosary there were 
 three rings in the silken bag, all of gold; one 
 set with a dark opal with the colours of the 
 rainbow in it, one with a diamond like a star 
 of white fire, and one with a dull red stone, 
 cornelian or uncut ruby. The silken bag itself 
 was a very rare piece of art yellow silk worked 
 delicately in gold with flowers and fruits 
 beside the rings and the crucifix it held no other 
 jewels. Nor for the moment did it seem to 
 contain aught else, till Erskine's fingers probing 
 it drew forth a little roll of yellow linen or can- 
 vas, thin, and marked with red stains like 
 blood or rust. And then, indeed, I cried out, 
 ' The chart ! It's sure the chart of the sands 
 where the old wreck lies ! ' 
 
 But my cry died on my lips. For as I sprang 
 forward from my chair, I saw against the pane 
 of the high window a bronzed malevolent face 
 peer Gandy ! His eyes met mine fully. And 
 a very devil looked from his eyes to mine. 
 Instantly the face was gone, and the window 
 clear once more, and I could make out the 
 white terrace ghostly in the moonlight, the 
 dull green trees, the sky with the clouds trail- 
 ing like pale ghosts across it.
 
 Chapter XXV Assurance of Sanctuary 
 
 MY startled cry, my pointing fingers, sent 
 Erskine at a bound towards the win- 
 dow. ' Gandy ! ' squealed I. ' Gandy 's there 
 looking in ! ' 
 
 ' For God's sake, sir/ cried Rob, following at 
 Erskine' s heels, ' be careful. He has his pistols 
 with him/ 
 
 Mrs. Corbe had caught the bell rope, and the 
 wild clamour of the bell was sounding the 
 alarm through the house ; and the dogs were 
 barking madly. And blunderbuss in hand- 
 to the actual peril of us all old John was hurry- 
 ing in, and a young fellow in the livery of a groom 
 with a bludgeon in his hand following after; 
 beyond him I saw Martha, and a scared kitchen 
 wench clinging to her. 
 
 And ' W what's the matter, 'ma'am ? ' old 
 John was stammering, as Erskine flung wide 
 the window and rushed out upon the terrace. 
 Lord, how the dogs were barking ! 
 
 ' Some one was looking in/ the mistress 
 answered. ' The boy here saw him/ 
 
 ' Gandy ! ' cried I, ' looking fit for murder/ 
 whereat the maid shrieked shrilly. 
 
 ' But how should he get past the dogs ? ' 
 
 172
 
 Assurance of Sanctuary 173 
 
 growled John. ' The dogs were quiet till the 
 bell rang. And the gate is barred.' 
 
 ' Go after Mr. Erskine, 'ordered she. ' Martha 
 and you, girl, go back to the kitchen, pray ! 
 Robert ' to the young groom ' you and 
 John search the grounds. Your ashplant may 
 be of more service than the blunderbuss/ and 
 her laughter sounded bravely, yet hysterically. 
 
 Waving the serving- women from the rcom 
 impatiently, she returned to the table, and 
 gathering up the gems and the silken bag, thrust 
 them into the casket. And, while Erskine 
 and the two fellows ran down from the terrace 
 into the garden, leaving Rob and me with her, 
 she went silently to a tall oaken desk, unlocked 
 a drawer, and lifted from it a pair of pistols. 
 Turning to laugh upon us, then, and cry, 
 ' Why, what company have you been keeping 
 at the Black House ? I never dreamt of aught 
 amiss save for the smugglers down in Corbe. 
 And to hear you we must be watchful, it seems, 
 if we'd not be murdered in our beds.' For all 
 her laughter handling the pistols deftly, look- 
 ing to priming and loading, and setting the 
 weapons on the table by her. 
 
 ' Mrs. Corbe,' said Rob, ' we've told you 
 only the truth. And the rosary Gandy spoke 
 of, and the chart here,' pointing to the limp 
 red-lettered rag lying spread out by the casket. 
 
 ' I'm not questioning it, child,' she answered. 
 ' Pray set your mind at rest.' 
 
 ' And will you be our friend not send us 
 back ? ' 
 
 ' Send you back ! You'll remain here to-
 
 174 The Black House 
 
 night I promise you.' Then leaning forward 
 to me, and looking at me with swimming eyes, 
 ' Child, child,' cries she, ' it may be that 
 you're to bring great happiness to me. It 
 may be that you're only going to tear open 
 old, old wounds. But, child, you're so like- 
 so like one I loved long since so like what 
 my own boy must have been must be, if 
 he's alive that, whatever John Corbe will 
 tell oh, and he must speak, he must speak 
 I'll be your friend. Though though you're 
 not my son, for the thought of him who 
 should be here by my side and for the 
 thought that he, like you, may need a friend,' 
 and suddenly casting her arms about my 
 neck ; and kissing me fully on the lips ; and as 
 suddenly drawing back, and hiding her face 
 from me. Gliding then to the open window, 
 and peering out into the garden, whence above 
 the wild clamour of the dogs the voices of the 
 searchers sounded in. 
 
 They returned presently - - Erskine to 
 announce that they had found no one. But 
 Mistress Corbe would have the great shutters 
 drawn and barred before the window, and 
 ordered old John that the groom and he should 
 watch in turn the night through, armed. Giv- 
 ing the pistols into Erskine J s hands and tell- 
 ing him that there were powder and ball in 
 the desk, ' They were my husband's pistols, ' 
 she said quietly, running her hand over the 
 beautiful silver chasing of them. Aye, and 
 'twas his sword hung from the wall, hilt 
 wrought in silver, blade of fine Spanish steel.
 
 Assurance of Sanctuary 175 
 
 Erskine lifting it down and plucking it from the 
 scabbard confessed a preference for the weapon 
 handing over a pistol to the groom. 
 
 ' Though,' laughed the gentleman, ' it seems 
 that we're making a pretty pother over a 
 schoolmaster. I'm not anticipating that I'll 
 need to display my swordsmanship, Mrs. Corbe.' 
 Yet leaving the sword and pistol ready to his 
 hand by the chimney-piece, as we settled down 
 to examination of the chart. 
 
 The yellow shred was unintelligible enough 
 to me. Twas drawn by the roughest of carto- 
 graphers. Erskine pronounced it the mapping 
 of some isle to the north of New Holland. 
 Assuming so much, I did believe from Gandy's 
 story than from the blood marks on the linen. 
 So far as I might make out, having, indeed, 
 scant interest in the thing for the whirling of 
 my thoughts at the night's adventures, and 
 conjecturing at what John Corbe should re- 
 veal, the marks on the shred of about a half- 
 yard mapped roughly an island, set far north 
 of the penal settlement at Botany Bay an 
 island like a half moon, a red arrow pointing 
 inshore to the outline of a ship, the fugitive 
 had pictured it under sail. But 'twas the 
 merest, crudest thing valueless, Erskine pro- 
 nounced it for the purposes of any expedition 
 that Gandy or Corbe might ever have chanced 
 to plan overseas for the treasure whereof the 
 rosary might stand in evidence. Dismissing 
 the matter lightly enough, he thrust the shred 
 of canvas into the silken bag with the jewels, 
 and handed the casket to Mrs. Corbe at the
 
 176 The Black House 
 
 very moment when Martha's tapping at the 
 door told of her arrival with our supper a 
 larded chicken, bread and butter, a jug of ale. 
 Mrs. Corbe serving us with her own hands, we 
 fell to heartily, for the hands of the clock 
 pointed towards midnight, and we had made a 
 poor supper at the Black House. But the ale 
 of Corbe was rich and heady too heady for 
 the weary pair of us and the end of our meal, 
 partaken while Mrs. Corbe and Erskine by the 
 fire conversed in undertones, found us dull and 
 yawning, and stupid with sleepiness. Still, as 
 the weight of weariness descended on my over- 
 wrought mind, I found myself conjecturing wildly 
 how the gentleman should have come into her 
 house, recollecting then that he had spoken of 
 being aboard The Virginian ere the American 
 ship went to destruction. And how Gandy and 
 his men should fare at the hands of the Ameri- 
 can gentleman standing tall and fine against 
 the chimney-piece, and looking down at the 
 little Mistress of Corbe with an admiration so 
 obvious as roused a feeling of jealousy and 
 resentment in my heart.
 
 Chapter XXVI Examination of Mr. Corbe 
 
 MRS. CORBE herself lit us to our bed. 
 Martha and the maid, it seemed, had 
 busied themselves in the preparation of a room 
 for Rob and me, while we sat with Mrs. Corbe 
 and Mr. Erskine in the library. For all their 
 haste never had I thought to be housed in such 
 comfort. I have to tell that Corbe Manor was 
 built in the form of a square, only two stories 
 in height, though topped at the eastern end by 
 a tower going up to a high, pointed roof. The 
 Manor was of no great extent ten rooms only 
 on the second floor a passage-way extending 
 right and left from the head of the stairway, 
 a second stairway at the eastern end of the pass- 
 age leading up into the tower, whereon the 
 third floor I write from my subsequent under- 
 standing the Mistress of Corbe was housed. 
 Smiling at our yawning, as we finished our 
 supper, Mrs. Corbe rang for candles, and bid- 
 ding us follow her, led us up the stairs, and by 
 the softly carpeted gallery to the room left of 
 the second stair. The light of the fire upon the 
 hearth glowed out to welcome us, as she flung 
 wide the door, and smiling upon us bade us 
 enter. It was a blue room pale blue hang- 
 
 177 12
 
 178 The Black House 
 
 ings to the four-poster blue rugs upon the 
 polished floor, the oaken chairs padded with 
 dark blue leather, basin and ewer of white china 
 laced with blue. The mirrors reflecting the 
 flames of the logs ablaze upon the hearth 
 seemed to lend new warmth and light and colour 
 to the room ; the linen on the bed was of the 
 whitest ; lavender and roses hung like the 
 memory of summer in the air. A shepherdess 
 with powdered hair and a laced blue gown 
 smiled down from above the chimney-piece ; 
 there was no other portrait, and the old oak 
 of the panels was bare of adornment, save for 
 the four mirrors. Before the window the dark 
 blue curtains were drawn closely two cushioned 
 chairs were set before the hearth ; and for our 
 greater comfort Martha had hung upon them 
 two vast night-shirts by the capacity of them, 
 from the wardrobe of old John. For all the 
 delicacy of the room, moreover, Martha had 
 set nigh the fire two wooden tubs, into which 
 the kitchen-maid was pouring steaming water 
 from a pail ; while Martha herself stood super- 
 intendent with towels over her arm. I had a 
 fear lest the good woman should herself insist 
 upon superintending the washing of us ; but 
 as we followed Mrs. Corbe into the room the 
 preparations were completed ; and Martha 
 bustling forward announced, ' The shutters is 
 barred, ma'am, and here's the key. If you 
 think they should be locked in for the night/ 
 going out then with the maid following at 
 her heels. 
 Setting down the candle on a press, Mrs.
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 179 
 
 Corbe held out the key to me. ' You may lock 
 your door, child/ she said, ' if you fear that 
 man. Though he's not likely to trouble us 
 any more to-night, I think. To-morrow Mr. 
 Corbe should be here, and we should know some- 
 thing.' Stooping suddenly to kiss me on the 
 brow, and with a sob going out hurriedly. 
 
 I promise you Rob and I congratulated our- 
 selves upon this change in our fortunes tem- 
 porary though it might prove all the while 
 we stripped by the warmth of the fire, and 
 bathed and robed us in the capacious night- 
 shirts. But with the warmth and comfort 
 that were ours, sleep bore down our lids and 
 soon we had made to bed I extinguishing the 
 candle ere I crept in after Rob. Now for all 
 Mrs. Corbe 's assurance of our safety, I had a 
 very lively dread of Gandy ; therefore I turned 
 the key in the lock, and drawing back the cur-" 
 tains assured myself that the shutters were 
 barred, though the window was unlatched to 
 give us air. Lavender and roses in our nos- 
 trils, feather beds under our bodies, through 
 the half -drawn curtains the gleam of the fire. 
 Lying luxuriously though my mind whirled 
 yet with the thought of what the morrow should 
 disclose I fell asleep presently beside Rob, 
 who was snoring almost on the moment his 
 head touched the pillow. 
 
 And through the night I slept peacefully 
 and without dreaming till the morn was come, 
 and Martha was rapping upon our door to rouse 
 us. Bathed and brushed, if clad in shabby 
 garments, the pair of us descended the stairs,
 
 i8o The Black House 
 
 to find the morning dull and grey a fog 
 lying over the fens and the cliffs shut out from 
 view. Of Mrs. Corbe or Erskine we saw 
 nothing, were to see nothing till we had break- 
 fasted in the kitchen, with Martha herself to 
 wait upon us. All the while, though she said 
 little, I observed that she watched me from the 
 corner of her eyes, but I took it from her lack 
 of questions that Mrs. Corbe had directed her 
 to ask us nothing. And I found in her a curi- 
 ous mixture of stiff dignity as towards two 
 young vagrants and of ill-concealed kindli- 
 ness as towards one who might prove in very 
 truth a Corbe. Her mistress, she said, had 
 breakfasted abed, that Mr. John Corbe was 
 expected to arrive at the house early in the 
 morning ; and that Mrs. Corbe required that 
 I should then be with her in the library. 
 
 Mr. Erskine came lounging in, as we rose 
 from table, debonair for all his ill-fitting gar- 
 ments, and for the pallor of his face he had 
 not yet recovered fully from his buffeting in 
 the storm and bidding us ' Good morning ! ' 
 cheerfully stood straddling on the hearth before 
 the blazing fire, tobacco pipe in mouth. 
 
 ' So, you've escaped thus far/ says he, ' from 
 your cut-throat, Gandy ? I take it that he'll 
 be making over here this morning to claim you. ' 
 
 ' And if he gets us/ murmured Rob, ' the 
 Lord have mercy on us ! ' 
 
 ' Aye, aye, a horsing for the pair of you eh ? 
 But I'm at least promising myself the pleasure 
 of a word or two with him. Concerning cer- 
 tain lights that burned upon the cliffs.'
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 181 
 
 ' And a man who died next morning, ' mut- 
 tered Rob. 
 
 ' At least a man who saw his ship and his 
 ship's company drown like rats/ says Erskine. 
 ' And came nigh to drowning himself. ' 
 
 ' How came you ashore, sir ? ' asked I. 
 
 ' By the luck of the devil, put it so ! 
 Floated in on a spar, washed up on the shore 
 nigh Corbe next morning. And would have 
 died at the hands of Corbe folk, most assuredly, 
 but that Mrs. Corbe chanced to ride in at word 
 of the wreck. I had been carried up to The 
 Gold Scales an ill place. And heard them 
 muttering outside my door, ere she came. 
 From the looks of them, when Madam insisted 
 that her folk bring me to her house, planning 
 no good for an American. Harkee, lads, I 
 like these Corbe folk ill. And Gandy, this 
 precious villain of yours, has influence with 
 them ? ' 
 
 ' There is no doubt/ says Rob. 
 
 ' Then if Mrs. Corbe refuses to give you up 
 to him, as like as not he'll come and take 
 eh ? With the Corbe folk wreckers, smug- 
 glers ' 
 
 Indeed, he did but express my own fears. 
 Gandy, I knew, would not lightly give us up, 
 knowing that we knew what might bring him 
 and his folk to the rope. And having in our 
 hands the tortoise casket and its precious con- 
 tents. Gandy would rouse Corbe folk against 
 the Manor. Gandy would have us in his house 
 again. And to resist him and the men of 
 Corbe there were in the Manor, so far as I
 
 1 82 The Black House 
 
 might judge, none other men than Erskine, old 
 John and the young groom. 
 
 Martha and the serving- maid now setting 
 themselves to the clearing of the table and the 
 washing of the dishes, we made our way out 
 of the kitchen, and into the hall, where a fire 
 blazed on the hearth. And here the better 
 part of an hour we passed with Erskine, tell- 
 ing each our tale to him, and hearing his story. 
 He was, he told us, of Virginia his father 
 had borne arms against us in the war of '75, 
 casting in his lot with the Americans rather 
 than with his fellow planters for King George. 
 And he had owned many acres and many 
 black slaves, and his own fleet of traders. 
 That all going at his death to young John 
 Erskine, our gentleman. That the orders 
 in Council, as the Continental system, check- 
 ing his trade with France the losses of his 
 ships, had bitten deeply into his fortunes, 
 till of his fleet were left only The Vir- 
 ginian and one other, The Southern Maid 
 he had sought to re-establish his relations with 
 London at the close of the war. And he was 
 come that year on his own ship with a freight 
 of tobacco, rum and sugar, hoping his own bar- 
 gaining in England might yet restore his for- 
 tunes. 
 
 ' And the sweet leaf/ says he, ' rots in the 
 sea, or goes to line the pockets of Gandy and 
 his wreckers with guineas. And I am like 
 to lose Erskine itself that my father built up 
 in the wilderness. I tell you I have a love for 
 the Frenchmen, lads, and for Napoleon Buona-
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 183 
 
 parte as a very great Emperor, and as a soldier 
 whose like the world has not seen since Caesar, 
 your Wellington notwithstanding. Yet am I 
 kin to you Englishmen, and my folk still 
 dwell in Devon, whence my ancestor sailed 
 a hundred and odd years since. And I have a 
 very nice reckoning of the honest dealing of 
 your London merchant. I would have won the 
 price for my leaf and sugar and rum in London. 
 And now have nought to offer. We should 
 hate you English, we Americans. Our blood 
 is your blood ; and you would have let it 
 from our veins. And loosed the vile Hano- 
 verian and the Iroquois upon us. I tell you 
 when the tomahawk and the scalping knife 
 were turned to England's service, England 
 had lost America. But had my heart not 
 been drawn to England, ere I came a very 
 sweet and noble Englishwoman would have 
 taken it for hers and England's.' 
 
 Whereat, again knowing that he spoke of 
 Mrs. Corbe, and that he expressed a passion 
 for her, my jealousy burned in my cheeks and 
 angry eyes, though, American as he was, I 
 realised the good looks and the breeding of 
 the fellow. 
 
 We were interrupted in our conversation by 
 a stir and bustle at the gate, the barking of 
 the dogs ; and as the groom drew back the 
 bars, the clatter of horse-hoofs on the flags. 
 Into the hall came stepping jauntily John 
 Corbe, spruce as a wooing gallant in his scarlet 
 riding- jacket, his superlative buckskins and 
 shining tops, his heavy hunting crop swinging
 
 184 The Black House 
 
 in his right hand. But when his eyes fell upon 
 me, peering at him from the settle, he drew 
 back, face suffused, brows black and lowering, 
 lips curling up in a snarl, so that I quailed be- 
 fore him. Erskine, propped against the chim- 
 ney-piece, regarded him with smiling composure 
 and blew out a cloud of smoke from his tobacco 
 pipe with obvious enjoyment. Old John had 
 come in at the gentleman's heels, Martha 
 appeared from the kitchen. With a wave of 
 his whip towards her, Corbe demanded angrily, 
 ' Who are these folk ? ' 
 
 ' Madam's guests, sir,' retorted Martha, with 
 a toss of her head. 
 
 ' Guests, hey ? ' with a sneer. ' Tell your 
 mistress that I am here, and that I'm wait- 
 ing for her in the library/ 
 
 ' She's expecting you there, Mr. John,' says 
 Martha easily. ' Mr. Erskine, sir, and you '- 
 pointing with her finger at me ' the mistress 
 bade me tell you that she wanted you to be 
 in the library when Mr. Corbe came in.' 
 
 ' We're at Mrs. Corbe 's service,' answered 
 Erskine, knocking out his pipe. ' Come, 
 lad/ 
 
 ' Wait ! ' ordered John Corbe. ' Martha, I 
 must have a word first with Mrs. Corbe alone. 
 I'll go in. You need not announce me/ And 
 scowling and black passed through the cur- 
 tain from us. 
 
 But while Erskine and I stood doubtful 
 whether or not to follow him, the bell rang 
 from within, and Martha hurrying in, returned 
 instantly _to us. ' The mistress,' says she tri-
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 185 
 
 umphant, ' asks you, Mr. Erskine, and you ' 
 to me ' to go to her at once.' 
 
 I would have held back dreading lest in the 
 interview between Mrs. Corbe and her kinsman 
 my hope it had been ardent since I had set 
 eyes upon and loved her might be dashed to 
 the ground. But Erskine, setting his pipe 
 upon the chimney-piece, put his hand on my 
 shoulder, and propelled me into the library. 
 Mr. Corbe in the worst of moods, by his scowl- 
 ing face, stood by the window. Madam 
 was sitting at the little table before the fire, 
 her chin cupped in her hands. 
 
 ' I ask you, John/ she said, as Erskine and 
 I approached, ' only to look upon this boy 
 and tell me isn't he like the Corbes ? Eye 
 for eye mouth for mouth hair black as yours.' 
 
 The look Mr. Corbe bestowed on me was 
 malevolent. ' Folly,' he said, ' all folly, Anne. 
 The fellow is one of the man Gandy's scholars 
 a runaway. Have Gandy here, if you will.' 
 
 ' Is the man Gandy/ asked she, ' a friend of 
 yours, John ? ' 
 
 ' I have had some dealings with him, hav- 
 ing known him in London/ 
 
 ' And his reputation ? ' 
 
 ' I know little of it. A curious fellow a 
 seaman once I do believe an officer of a 
 King's ship. Why do you question me in 
 this way, Anne ? ' 
 
 ' You know little of him, then ? Do you 
 know an attorney named Pounds ? ' 
 
 ' A money-lender, yes/ he answered easily. 
 ' I have had dealings with the fellow/
 
 1 86 The Black House 
 
 'This lad's guardian/ 
 
 ' I am given to understand so.' 
 
 ' You don't know ? ' 
 
 ' Pounds informed me, one morning, when 
 I met him and this fellow at The Gold Scales.' 
 
 ' And did you, when you saw him with the 
 boy, show anger ? Did you ask what was the 
 trick he was playing you ? ' 
 
 He lied glibly. ' This is all folly, Anne. The 
 fellow should have been in London, had he 
 been serving my interests.' 
 
 She nodded. ' Did you, the other night, 
 when you were with Gandy at the Black House, 
 offer to pay him for a certain service ? Did 
 you ? Answer me ! Did you ? ' imperious 
 now, and rapping her fingers on the table, 
 white and vindictive. His face was suffused 
 and his looks lowering. . 
 
 ' What do you mean, Anne ? ' muttered he. 
 And with sudden flaming anger, ' I'll not be 
 questioned by you with these vagrants here. 
 If you would ask more of me if you'd have 
 an answer we must be alone.' 
 
 ' This gentleman is here by my wish and 
 the boy, too.' 
 
 ' Nay, then, I'll go ! ' 
 
 ' You'll remain,' flashed she, starting from 
 her chair. ' Mr. Erskine, pray hold the door.' 
 
 Ere Corbe might pass out, Erskine had reached 
 the door, and, turning the key in the lock, stood 
 guarding it. 
 
 ' Did you not say to that man, Gandy, " The 
 boy once gone ah, God, had I the courage 
 And break off, and he say to you, " The boy
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 187 
 
 once gone and you reigning at Corbe " ? Did 
 you not ? ' with white and darting wrath 
 ' plan with that fellow that evil fellow the 
 murder of this boy ? And was the reason not 
 that this boy is James Corbe, my son ! ' 
 
 He was livid, yet he faced her boldly, mut- 
 tering, ' Are you mad ? What's this wild 
 tale ? ' 
 
 ' Your conversation with that man your 
 friend, your intimate was heard word for 
 word was heard by this lad and the other. 
 The two were hid in the room where you and 
 Gandy planned a murder/ 
 
 ' You believe 
 
 ' John Corbe, if I didn't believe, wouldn't 
 your looks tell me ? The eyes of you all 
 that's in them. You planned that the boy and 
 I should never meet. Why ? You were afraid 
 when you saw him with the attorney Pounds. 
 You were ! Why ? Was it that you feared 
 lest Pounds had sold you ? Wasn't it be- 
 cause because in very truth this is my son ? 
 And that the child who was lost from Corbe 
 twelve years since when Roger Corbe died 
 my boy was taken from this place by you 
 for you and given into the keeping of the 
 man Pounds, so that you might have this house 
 and what money should have been the boy's ? 
 Wasn't it so ? We must not meet, lest I should 
 understand from his looks, his age, he was a 
 Corbe ? And understanding ask his history ? 
 and know that no gipsy vagrants stole my 
 son away ? But that John Corbe 
 
 A devil of anger was loose in him. Eyes wild,
 
 1 88 The Black House 
 
 besotted face purple, lips curling back. He 
 struck the table violently with his gloved hand, 
 crying, ' It's a lie ! Madness ! ' 
 
 ' So little a child, John, so little a child ! ' 
 she went on, white now as death. ' Yet 
 standing in your way now that Roger Corbe 
 was dead ! So much East India stock the 
 house in London this house, its acres all 
 his, if he lived, but if he died, John Corbe's. 
 Why did you not murder, John ? Did you 
 not purpose murder, when you took him from 
 this place did aught hold your hand ? Only 
 a little child yet standing in your way of 
 gaming, drunkenness with the Regent and his 
 evil company ? Stolen from this place, while 
 I lay sick heart-broken that Roger Corbe 
 whom I had loved was dead. And who so 
 much my friend at that time, John, as you, 
 professing love, devotion, friendship ? Oh, to 
 think that but for Roger Corbe I might have 
 wed you ! Vagrants, gipsies, and the child 
 snatched away at night whither ? And you 
 riding away that night in search. And the 
 countryside roused and nothing ever found. 
 Gipsies or child John, do you think I've ever 
 believed that tale ? That all these years I 
 haven't had you watched ? Knowing that if a 
 gipsy stole, you paid the price ? ' 
 
 ' My kinswoman ! ' snarled the gentleman. 
 
 ' Garvin in London had you watched, 
 whither you went in London. I tell you, John, 
 there is not very much of your life in London 
 that I haven't known.' 
 
 ' Dearest Anne '
 
 Examination of Mr. Corbe 189 
 
 ' Waiting only till you should betray- 
 
 ' My life has been the life of a gentleman.' 
 
 ' So ! ' she answered, laughing hysterically. 
 ' You have been circumspect, John. You have 
 never erred in aught that was of concern to 
 me. You have never gone nigh the fellow 
 Pounds whatever sums passed between you 
 were paid in secret. I have never known. 
 Only that Pounds should have brought the lad 
 hither ! Did you lack the means, John, to pay 
 his price ? You should regret now that you 
 did not murder. At least you might have 
 entered into possession. I could not have 
 kept you out of Corbe had my boy died. Why, 
 you were a clumsy trickster, John, if you 
 thought that, till it was proved the boy was 
 dead, you could have Corbe. Or did you think 
 that Roger once dead and the boy gone, I 
 might at last regret and listen to you wed you ? 
 You were a fool, John. You would have mur- 
 dered at the Black House ! ' 
 
 ' Anne, are you mad ? ' 
 
 ' John, isn't this my son ? After all these 
 years you've cheated Garvin and me ? Isn't 
 this Roger Corbe 's son ? Wouldn't it be wiser 
 of you to speak on my promise that I'll not 
 raise my hand to have you punished ? On 
 my assurance that Garvin shall pay a thousand 
 guineas into your hands ere you leave Eng- 
 land ? Will you not speak ? ' 
 
 He answered furiously. ' You qualify for 
 Bedlam, woman ! I know not what lie these 
 vagrants have told you. I know nothing of 
 your son. Is this boy your son, say you ?
 
 190 The Black House 
 
 I know only that Pounds is the boy's guardian.' 
 ' Yet once again, John Corbe ' she was 
 beginning, when there came a sudden rapping 
 on the door, and Erskine demanding, ' Who's 
 there ? What is it ? ' Martha called' Oh, 
 Mr. Erskine, pray tell the mistress that a 
 man Mr. Gandy, he says his name is has 
 come. And that he wants to see her at 
 once.' 
 
 I felt a shiver go down my back. Mistress 
 Corbe answered while, livid, John Corbe drew 
 back from the window to the chimney-piece 
 ' Pray show Mr. Gandy into the library at 
 once.'
 
 Chapter XXVII Mr. Gandy as Claimant 
 
 MR. GANDY came in boldly, hesitating 
 only at the sight of Corbe and his very 
 evident discomposure. The fellow would have 
 made a passable showing at Drury his de- 
 meanour and his dress betokened the model 
 pedagogue, for all his murderous essay of the 
 night before. His silver hair, indeed, was 
 ruffled by the wind ; his riding boots bespattered 
 with mud ; but his linen was spotless ; his 
 suit severe ; his black cloak falling loosely 
 from his bent figure. Never had I seen on 
 Mr. Gandy such an air of age. He bore in his 
 gloved hand, however, a weighty hunting- 
 crop, to be turned, if need be, I did not 
 doubt., into a very serviceable weapon. At 
 his heels, Martha ushered into the room Rob 
 Orme ; on the pair Erskine, with promptitude, 
 locked the door. Mr. Gandy's bow to Mrs. 
 Corbe was courtly his eyes, I perceived, 
 burned suddenly into John Corbe's. 
 
 ' Madam,' says he, ' I ask you to pardon 
 this intrusion. And I beg you to acquit me of 
 any share in the annoyance that these truants 
 must have occasioned you. I am here, to be 
 sure, to relieve your household of my rogues/ 
 
 191
 
 192 The Black House 
 
 ' Sir/ said Mrs. Corbe, ' these lads have 
 sought my protection. I have no intention of 
 giving them into your hands ! ' 
 
 ' Madam/ he answered, with a tolerant air, 
 ' I can only assume that these rogues have 
 lied to you ; and that your kindly heart prompts 
 you to espouse their cause. I am, however, 
 their guardian, and I press my claim. ' Standing 
 before her humbly enough, yet his fierce eyes 
 warring with hers. 
 
 ' Your guardianship of them/ said she, ' is 
 at an end, Mr. Gandy/ 
 
 ' And by what right, Madam ? ' 
 
 ' As natural guardian, sir, of one/ whereat 
 Mr. John Corbe broke in furiously : ' Anne, 
 for God's sake, an end to this mad folly ! 
 The fellow is Pounds' ward, the son of some 
 client of his maybe, of a rogue who swung 
 in Newgate/ 
 
 ' You speak/ said Mr. Gandy deliberately, 
 ' of the lad Thome. I am fully informed, by 
 Mr. Pounds, of his parentage. Equally in his 
 case with that of the lad Orme, I am responsible 
 to his guardian/ 
 
 ' So/ she said quietly, facing the pair of them. 
 ' So ! Mr. Gandy, I tell you that whatever 
 claim you may advance, the boys remain here. 
 That's all. You need remain no longer/ 
 
 ' Madam/ deliberately yet, though his eyes 
 burned, ' I am not so to be dictated to. The 
 boys go with me/ 
 
 ' They remain here ! ' 
 
 ' I claim them as my scholars. They go with 
 me, or I shall take such steps as may be
 
 Mr. Gandy as Claimant 193 
 
 necessary for their recovery ! Orme ! Thorne ! 
 d'ye hear me ? follow me ! ' 
 
 ' You will take action/ breathed Mrs. Corbe, 
 smiling upon him. ' Will you appeal to the 
 law ? ' 
 
 ' Anne/ muttered John Corbe, ' bethink you 
 of the scandal ! ' 
 
 ' Scandal ! You are suddenly jealous for the 
 honour of Corbe, John ! Mr. Gandy, I wonder 
 at your hardihood in coming here. Knowing 
 what has passed of late at the Black House 
 what passed last night I should have thought 
 ere now you would have been making post-haste 
 from this place, thinking only how you might 
 escape from England ! ' 
 
 ' Madam/ with severe simplicity, ' I do not 
 understand/ 
 
 ' Do you not ? ' said she, laughing. ' Do you 
 not ? Mr. Erskine, pray ! ' Erskine, stepping 
 forward, easy, smiling, hands in pockets Mr. 
 Gandy regarded him indifferently. ' This gentle- 
 man, ' said she, ' is owner of the ship Virginian 
 the ship that went to her death on the rocks 
 the night of the storm. Do you understand 
 me now, Mr. Gandy ? ' 
 
 ' Bear with me still. I do not understand/ 
 
 ' The Virginian,' said Erskine, regarding 
 Gandy savagely, colour hot in his cheeks, 
 eyes alight, ' was lured on to the rocks by 
 wreckers. I've sworn to avenge those who 
 drowned, through the lights that burned on 
 the cliffs that night, Gandy ! The cliffs about 
 your house ! Aye, and a man who died at your 
 hand, Gandy, next morning/
 
 IQ4 The Black House 
 
 The movement of Mr. Gandy's fingers beneath 
 his cloak had been hidden from us. But, 
 suddenly, he had leaped back to the door, 
 and in his hand he gripped a pistol covering 
 us. ' Am I come/ cried he, ' to Bedlam ? 
 D'ye charge me with wrecking murdering ? 
 Madam Corbe, you've been listening to a pack 
 of schoolboys lying lying to save their backs 
 from the rod. Lying ! Mr. Corbe, are you a 
 party to this ? Stand back, madman '- to 
 Erskine, advancing intrepidly upon him 
 ' stand back ! I am not to be trifled with. I 
 go from this place to seek the law that shall 
 restore these cubs into my keeping. My lawful 
 keeping. D'ye mark me, Madam, my lawful 
 keeping ? ' 
 
 ' Out of this house ! ' she ordered him, 
 fearless, body interposing between him and 
 me. ' You are an evil fellow. Gandy, fit tool 
 for such as this man here. And you, John 
 Corbe, out of this house ! Your confession 
 still is worth a thousand guineas to you, and 
 escape from England.' 
 
 ' Anne ! ' Cowering then before her wrath, 
 Corbe flung the window wide and, stepping on 
 to the terrace, strode away. Mr. Gandy drew 
 from the door to the window on the instant, 
 all the while covering Erskine with his pistol. 
 ' And,' cried he, ' mark me ! I'll have these 
 cubs ! Aye, I'll have them what they stole 
 from me. Hark ye you dogs your backs 
 shall tingle for this ! Ye shall pay, ye shall 
 pay ! Mistress, I promise you I shall have my 
 own, d'ye hear me ? Have my own ! '
 
 Mr. Gandy as Claimant 195 
 
 And so passed slowly through the window, 
 and followed Corbe. Erskine, ablaze, would 
 have flung himself after him, daring the pistol, 
 but that Mrs. Corbe caught at his arm, crying 
 out, ' No, sir, no ; for my sake ! For the 
 boys' sake. Heaven knows we shall need your 
 help, if that man rouse the Corbe folk against 
 us.'
 
 Chapter XXV 'III \ The Night Watch 
 
 NOW, for all the boldness of Mistress 
 Corbe's declaration to Corbe and Gandy, 
 that she believed me her son, it was to be made 
 plain to me, on the departure of the pair, that 
 Madam yet dared not believe her heart. For, 
 though she bent and kissed me on the lips, I 
 saw in her eyes the terror of her doubting ; 
 I heard her murmur, ' Dear God, only to 
 know ! ' And put her hand to her heart, as 
 she turned from me. Erskine and Rob, and 
 old John were staring forth from the window- 
 Martha, timorous, at their heels watching the 
 departure of Corbe and Gandy from the house. 
 Presently, standing dull and shaken by Madam's 
 side, I heard the gates creak on their hinges, 
 the clatter of hoof-beats on the cobbles sounding 
 their departure. The sound aroused Mrs. Corbe, 
 it seemed, to a sense of Gandy 's menace that 
 he would yet have his own, and that he had 
 ridden forth from Corbe with the one thought 
 to rouse the lawless folk of the village against 
 us, and bring them back at his heels to snatch 
 Rob and me away by force. 
 
 ' John ! ' cried Mrs. Corbe, ' see that the 
 gates are barred. And you and Robert go and 
 
 196
 
 The Night Watch . 197 
 
 watch there, and let no one enter. Mr. Erskine, 
 pray- 
 
 The room cleared of the serving folk, the 
 gentleman, withdrawing from the window, faced 
 her. Rob Orme and I, apprehensive of the 
 consequences of this flouting of Gandy, stood 
 awaiting her decision. 
 
 ' This fellow Gandy,' she said, ' is riding for 
 Corbe. What influence he has there I can but 
 conj ecture. I think, sir, there is danger for us all. ' 
 
 ' Madam, I am at your service. I wish, 
 though, that the fellow had not been allowed 
 to leave the house. He is dangerous ; but 
 surely you have friends in the neighbourhood. 
 It should be easy to warn them, to bring 
 them here.' 
 
 ' In my widowhood,' she answered, ' I have 
 lived so lonely a life, I have made no friends. 
 And there is none, within twenty miles of 
 this place, who could assist me.' 
 
 ' None ! ' 
 
 ' Perhaps one ! My nearest neighbour. A dis- 
 tant kinsman of theCorbes' Sir Martin Ainley.' 
 
 Whereat it seemed to me that Mr. Erskine 's 
 looks betokened jealous apprehension. 
 
 ' That gentleman he is but late from 
 London a magistrate would aid us if he 
 knew. Indeed, he comes here with the purpose 
 where the excisemen have failed to stamp out 
 smuggling in Corbe. But he is nineteen miles 
 off, and the roads are rough. It's nigh a day's 
 journey it would be late ere he could arrive 
 here.' 
 
 ' Let one of your folk take a letter to him
 
 198 The Black House 
 
 now. Or, if you fear that Gandy may be 
 too soon, let all go.' 
 
 ' Is that your advice to me, Mr. Erskine ? ' 
 she asked him, smiling proudly. 
 
 Faltering an instant, he answered : ' It is 
 not my advice, Mrs. Corbe. I should bar well 
 the gates, and set Gandy and his crew at 
 defiance.' 
 
 ' Such is my purpose, Mr. Erskine. I know 
 these folk of Corbe. I know them for a lawless 
 set a league of smugglers wreckers evil 
 men. And these two lads are here, having at 
 the Black House learned enough to bring the 
 law upon them. And you are here escaped 
 from the ship they wrecked. Gandy has 
 influence over them. Is the fellow like to 
 spare any effort that may give these lads back 
 into his keeping them, and the tortoise- 
 casket, and the chart ? ' 
 
 ' Will the man dare, knowing that if he 
 do hurt to you, or any of your folk, he'll swing 
 for it, whether he have the boys or no ? ' 
 
 ' The King,' says she, ' is not the King in 
 Corbe. The King's justice does not rule these 
 folk. And, seeing the man Gandy the evil 
 of him, the will do you believe that aught 
 would stay his hand ? Dread of what shall 
 chance to him and the Corbe folk ? Gandy, 
 if I read the man aright, will seek to have the 
 boys. Gandy will come here with the Corbe 
 folk in the night, and, though the Corbe folk 
 suffer at the hands of Ainley and the King's 
 men, Gandy will not be taken. So I read it, 
 Mr. Erskine ! '
 
 The Night Watch 199 
 
 ' What, then, will you do ? : 
 
 ' Defend my own, ' she answered. ' My groom 
 shall ride to Sir Martin, and well remain here.' 
 
 She rang for Martha, and bade the groom 
 Robert saddle and ride apace to Sir Martin 
 Ainley. She penned a letter hastily, and, within 
 a quarter-hour of Gandy's departure, Robert 
 was riding through the gates to warn her 
 neighbour of the danger menacing the house, 
 and to beg his aid. While Madam wrote her 
 letter, Rob Orme and I made out from the 
 library into the garden. The fog had lifted 
 now from the fens. From the terrace about 
 the house we could look over the reedy meres 
 seawards, the cliffs, whence we had fled from 
 the Black ,House a wall shutting off Corbe 
 from the sight of the sea. The meres were 
 alight with wintry sun through it, from the 
 main gate, a road going clear across the marshes 
 towards the village, marked by the chimney 
 smoke afar. The Manor had been built upon 
 a rising ground maybe for a stronghold of 
 the Corbes, centuries since; from the broad 
 terrace steps led down into a great garden. 
 The coming winter had set its blight upon 
 it no flower bloomed, though the walks led 
 into rose arbours, nigh leafless now ; the lawns 
 were trim, and clear of dead leaves ; against 
 the high stone wall, that with its two iron gates 
 guarded Corbe, fruit trees were trained ; beyond 
 the wall the woods went down to the fens. 
 Inland, we saw only the stretch of fens, till 
 the hills rose and shut out our view, we could 
 make out no sign of dwelling, save only the
 
 200 The Black House 
 
 curl of smoke from some poor cot afar. Lonely 
 the Mistress of Corbe, assuredly, had dwelt 
 lonely in her widowhood. And now to guard 
 Corbe, if Gandy and his evil company of rogues 
 made thither, were left Erskine, old John, the 
 women and ourselves. 
 
 Rob and I paced the terrace dismally enough. 
 And I counted it the more the mark of his 
 friendship for me that he said nothing of my 
 kinship to the Corbes, while John Corbe had 
 told nothing, and in very truth, though Madam 
 had revealed her heart and her belief, we knew 
 no more than when we fled from Gandy the 
 night before. Else, Gandy and the menace 
 of him possessed our thoughts. To fall into 
 his hands Lord, the flogging that awaited us ! 
 
 We spent the remainder of that day between 
 the terrace and the kitchen dully, for Erskine 
 scarce came nigh us, and Madam not at all. 
 Indeed, Rob Orme and I were left alone to 
 bear each other company; Mrs. Corbe and 
 Erskine passed the afternoon together in 
 the library I took it, Madam reasoning with 
 him on what had passed that noon, and what 
 the actual purport of the scene with Corbe, 
 and my chance kinship to the Corbes. In the 
 kitchen, old John had set himself to the cleaning 
 of his blunderbuss and the pair of pistols from 
 the little oak case which bore the name of 
 dead Roger Corbe. And, save these pieces, 
 there was in Corbe no firearm to hold off 
 Gandy and the men of Corbe, if they should 
 come that night before Sir Martin Ainley and 
 his folk should reach us. Pistols and ancient
 
 The Night Watch 201 
 
 blunderbuss ; else old John prepared for the 
 defence of Corbe the rapier Toledan steel 
 a lean and glittering blade, with the haft 
 inset with little flowers of silver and tiny 
 blue jewels, so that when it left the old man's 
 hands for Erskine it was one piece, gleaming 
 with white fire. Aye, and Erskine 's eyes gleamed 
 as he set his fingers on the rapier and made 
 play with swift and facile passes. 
 
 ' If I cross swords with your preceptor, lads/ 
 cried he, laughing upon us, ' I promise you 
 he'll pay for all your flogging ! ' 
 
 Now all that day the gates of Corbe remained 
 fast shut, and none came nigh, and the two 
 great hounds guarding the house lay quiet in 
 their kennels. With the dropping dusk came 
 Madam from the library white and wan, but 
 smiling bravely enough upon us to order 
 John look once more to the gates, ere the 
 house doors were closed for the night. 
 
 ' While you and I, Mr. Erskine,' said she, 
 ' will make the rounds of the shutters, to be 
 sure that Martha and the girl have not been 
 careless.' 
 
 So by dark the Manor House was barred and 
 bolted, and the shutters clamped. Across the 
 oaken door looking towards the Black House, 
 and across the door looking inland, great bars 
 of iron, dating back to wilder times, were 
 shot ; the door of every room on the ground 
 floor was locked from within, and we all 
 save Madam assembled after our supper in 
 the hall before the fire. Save for Erskine and 
 old John, we were a dismal company ; Rob
 
 202 The Black House 
 
 Orme and I sitting dolefully together on the 
 settle ; Martha with her knitting in an armchair 
 by the fire ; the servant-maid shivc ring b side 
 her. But the fire on the hearth blazed high, 
 and Erskine's laughter, as he told a merry tale 
 of the slaves on his plantation, and old John's 
 chucklings were brave to hear. Without the 
 hounds bayed from time to time, when the 
 wind came rolling up from the sea, and beat 
 against the gates of Corbe, as if it sought to 
 force them in ; and leaping the wall like a 
 thief, smote heavily against the house. A 
 moaning wind, with the menace of storm in 
 it, growing in force with every gust, rumbling 
 in the chimneys, once whirling out the ashes 
 into the room. And soon like distant thunder 
 the roll of the waves against the cliffs below 
 the Black House. 
 
 The night drew on. Erskine had fallen to 
 silence, and sat staring at the fire, as if wrapt 
 in profound meditation, though, eyeing him 
 from time to time, I understood soon that he 
 was listening for aught that, in the intervals 
 of the gale without, should indicate peril to 
 us. Old John was dozing, snoring when he 
 slept, waking as he pitched forward, shivering 
 and yawning then in the most comfortless 
 manner possible. And Rob Orme arid myself 
 sat as dismally,' awaiting the coming of Gandy 
 and the men of Corbe, which we believed, the 
 pair of us, inevitable. 
 
 All this while Mrs. Corbe came not nigh us. 
 She had withdrawn to her chamber to watch 
 from the tower, I understood later. And I
 
 The Night Watch 203 
 
 found myself conjecturing, pitifully, what should 
 be her thoughts, and whether John Corbe 
 should ever be made to tell the truth ; and 
 whether the truth should mean that I was 
 son to Roger and Mistress Corbe ! 
 
 Watching in the high tower ! Watching 
 for, as the clock upon the chimney-piece struck 
 the hour of eleven, I was startled suddenly by 
 the sound of footsteps on the stair. Madam 
 came speeding down, a cloak over her gown 
 and hair, her face very pale, and her eyes 
 affrighted. 
 
 ' Mr. Erskine John/ she breathed. ' I 
 think they come ! ' 
 
 In an instant, Erskine was upon his feet, 
 and had snatched a pistol from its case upon 
 the chimney-piece, and drew the long, glittering 
 rapier. And old John was gripping his blunder- 
 buss, and Martha chiding the sobbing maid 
 for a foolish wench. 
 
 And cries Erskine : ' Madam, at your service ! ' 
 
 She came down the stair. She moved towards 
 the chimney-piece, and took the other pistol 
 from the case. And she said 
 
 ' Martha, you will go with Janet to my 
 chamber, and lock the door. You will go with 
 them ' with a wave of her hand towards us. 
 
 ' Mrs. Corbe,' says Rob boldly, ' we'll stay 
 here, if you'll let us. If they break in they 
 must have us. And we may be of use to Mr. 
 Erskine and your man to hold the stair.' 
 
 'I'm of a like mind,' I muttered. ' What 
 use for us to be locked in the tower ? ' 
 
 ' Brave lads,' she said. ' But '
 
 204 The Black House 
 
 ' If they break down the door/ said Erskine, 
 ' we'll yet have time to make for the tower. 
 Let the lads remain/ 
 
 She nodded. ' Have it so. Martha, go with 
 Janet ! ' 
 
 ' But youll come with me, ma'am/ Martha 
 besought her. ' Or let me stay with you/. 
 
 ' You heard me, Martha. Go ! ' 
 
 Martha, obeying, led the fainting girl away. 
 Mrs. Corbe, turning to Erskine, whispered : 
 ' I was in the tower looking from the window- 
 along the road that comes from Corbe. And, 
 when the wind dropped a while since, I fancied 
 that I heard voices far away. And then the 
 clouds passed from the moon and I saw them 
 coming. Many of them making this way. 
 
 Sir Martin will be too late '' She broke off 
 
 suddenly and leaned forward. ' Hark ! ' says 
 she, ' they're nigh. Put out the light ! ' 
 
 The wind was rolling up from the sea. The 
 very house seemed to shake before it. But 
 fierce and clamorous above it, sounded the 
 baying of the great hounds that guarded Corbe.
 
 Chapter XXIX The Return of Mr. Gandy 
 
 I HAD sought a weapon, when first Mrs. 
 Corbe came speeding down the stairs. I 
 had snatched up the heavy iron poker, and 
 thrust it into the coals upon the hearth. So 
 standing there, till it should grow red-hot, I 
 waited silently with Rob and the rest, while the 
 hounds bayed madly, and upon the gate there 
 came the sound of knocking, and a growl of 
 voices from without the walls. I did believe 
 that I could hear for all the clamour of the 
 wind and sea and the continuous baying, the 
 voice of Gandy, savage and triumphant, above 
 the voices of the men of Corbe. 
 
 ' Shall I go out and have a word with them ? ' 
 muttered Erskine. 
 
 ' What use ? ' asked Mistress Corbe. 
 
 ' None, save that it might delay them/ 
 
 ' And the hounds tear you down. Poor 
 brutes, they'll defend us to the death. Hark ! 
 they break down the gates.' 
 
 Resounding blows at the gates ; a roar of 
 voices ; the hounds defiant within. A sudden 
 crash, and the clank of iron, as if Gandy and 
 his folk had propelled some heavy body against 
 the aged timbers of the gates to bear them 
 
 205
 
 206 The Black House 
 
 down. The baying of the hounds was nigh 
 to madness. 
 
 The gates were down. Down ; for the 
 screeches that arose, the savage curses and 
 the sudden shrieks, that for the horror of it 
 made me drop the iron reddening in the fire, 
 and gasp and cling to Rob. 
 
 ' The hounds are on them,' muttered Mrs. 
 Corbe. 
 
 The shrieking died. The outcry at the gates 
 sounded above the wind. Candy's voice, 
 trumpet-li-ke, ' Stand back, you fools, give 
 me room ! ' And on the instant a hound's cry 
 of agony as, I took it, Gandy's knife let out 
 its life. A second cry, and a hoarse roar of 
 voices, the clattering of heavy boots over the 
 cobbles, as the Corbe folk rushed the door. 
 
 Candy was beating on the door. Gandy's 
 voice was shouting, ' Open ! d'ye hear me, 
 Mistress Corbe ? Open ! ' And ' Back., you 
 fools, wait ! ' 
 
 Mrs. Corbe, proud and white, had stepped 
 forward to the door, though Erskine sought 
 to stay her. And she demanded in imperi- 
 ous tones, ' Who is it comes so late ? Who 
 knocks ? ' 
 
 ' Mistress Corbe, your neighbour, seeking 
 two runaways, and stolen goods. Asking only 
 that they be given to him.' 
 
 ' Gandy,' she answered, ' you come like a 
 thief in the night. You break down my 
 gates. I warn you that you're like to hang for 
 this.' 
 
 ' I've no time for folly, Mistress Corbe/ he
 
 The Return of Mr. Gandy 207 
 
 roared back. ' Where are the boys, and the 
 casket they stole from me ? Open the door ! ' 
 
 ' I shall not open ! ' 
 
 ' Then we shall break it down ! ' 
 
 ' You threatened me this morning, Gandy ! ' 
 cried she. ' I warn you and these fellows with 
 you that you'll pay for this. I warn you that 
 ere now Sir Martin Ainley has had word, and 
 rides this way. Look to it ! ' 
 
 ' Will you open the door, woman ? ' snarled 
 he. 'Or must we break it down ? ' 
 
 ' I shall not open. We are armed. If you 
 dare set foot in Corbe this night ' 
 
 ' Down with the door ! ' he ordered ; and, 
 instantly, the fellows with him were beating 
 on it with cudgel, hammer and axe, and, 
 though it held yet, the timbers cracked under 
 the blows. And the roar of their voices came 
 in upon us. 
 
 ' To the stair, Anne ! ' cried Erskine, ' you 
 and the boys. You, too, John, I'll hold them 
 for awhile/ 
 
 She shook her head, though she motioned 
 to Rob and me. Rob had caught up a cudgel 
 old John had laid by the hearth, I held the 
 iron yet to the fire, red-hot now. Old John, 
 by Erskine's side, fingered the blunderbuss. 
 Under the crashing blows the door, for all its 
 oak and iron, was giving way splitting apart 
 gone from the hinges held now only by the 
 iron bar across it. Asunder ! We saw their 
 faces, then, with the gleam of the firelight 
 from within upon them ; and their voices 
 roared menace to us. Instantly old John had
 
 20 8 The Black House 
 
 fired the blunderbuss upon them, and at its 
 bellow a yell of rage went up from the door, 
 and for the instant it was clear, ere the cloud 
 of smoke blotted out the sight. Yet again 
 they came onwards with a rush, and, as the 
 door went down, I saw Gandy, like one possessed, 
 plying an axe, that split the planks as match- 
 wood. 
 
 The door lay in wreckage. Only the bar and 
 the ruin held them from us. And Gandy had 
 dropped his axe and caught the wreckage in 
 his hands and cleared the way. Upon the 
 instant, Erskine 's pistol spoke, and through 
 the smoke the American leaped into the door- 
 way, shouting to us, ' Make for the tower ! 
 While I hold the door ! ' 
 
 I saw him so, a lithe figure of steel, stripped 
 to his shirt as for a duel, and the rapier 
 flashing in his hand. I saw him so, ere 
 Gandy's pistol cracked from the doorway and 
 the smoke blotted out all things. But Mistress 
 Corbe had caught me by the shoulders, and 
 was drawing me with her to the stair, and 
 she and Rob and I were racing thither, and 
 old John was lost to us, equally with Erskine, 
 in the smoke, and all was clamour, outcry, 
 and the flash of steel. 
 
 I held the red-hot iron still in my hand, as, 
 shaking off Mrs. Corbe's grip upon me, I clung 
 to the baluster. I had a sense that Rob and 
 she were by me else my thoughts were 
 centred on what passed in the doorway, 
 under that cloud of smoke. 
 
 Erskine was beaten from the door ! They
 
 The Return of Mr. Gandy 209 
 
 were in upon us, a fierce company of rogues. 
 So much the firelight showed me, whirling 
 figures levelling furious blows at Erskine, 
 while still his rapier made play. Gandy I 
 marked him, heard his great voice bellowing 
 saw his hunting crop strike down old John 
 ere I drew back up the stairway, as Mistress 
 Corbe plucked again at my shoulder, and she 
 besought me, ' Come away, child ! For God's 
 sake, come away ! ' 
 
 Erskine was holding the stair. Aye, the logs 
 blazing up illumined his white figure, and the 
 Toledan rapier in his hand that, darting like 
 a snake, still held them back. One fellow had 
 bent low, had rushed by him, was leaping up 
 the stairs towards me old Ben ! And, on the 
 instant, I had thrust the hot iron into his 
 face, and he had screamed horribly, and tumbled 
 back down the stairs. The iron fell from my 
 hand with the sickness of it. And Mrs. Corbe 
 and Rob were plucking me back, and leaving 
 Erskine there, despite ourselves, we were speed- 
 ing along the passage to the stairs that led to 
 the tower. But it seemed to me, ere sick and 
 faint they drew me away, Erskine 's rapier had 
 been struck from his hand, and he was down 
 among them. 
 
 Up the stairs ran we to Madam's boudoir in 
 the tower, and at Madam's cry old Martha 
 had the door open, and we were through in 
 the dark, and the door was shut at our backs. 
 But Mistress Corbe was sobbing, ' I must go 
 back ! I cannot leave that gallant gentleman 
 to die. I must, don't cling to me, Martha ! ' 
 
 14
 
 210 The Black House 
 
 ' Madam, in heaven's name/ gasped the old 
 woman, clinging to her. 
 
 And ' Madam/ says I, ' Rob Orme and I 
 go with you. Give us up to Gandy. You 
 cannot keep us here/ 
 
 But ' Never ! ' cries she. ' Never. Not while 
 a door of Corbe can shut them out/ 
 
 ' Then/ mutters Rob, ' if there be any way 
 down from the tower, let us leave the house 
 and try to get away in the dark Jim and me/ 
 
 Madam had snatched the keys from her chate- 
 laine, and was thrusting them into Martha's 
 hands. ' By the stair/ she was gasping. ' Into 
 the garden. Go silently ! Let them out the 
 green gate. They may escape that way. I 
 go back to him ! ' 
 
 ' Madam/ faltered I, ' I should go with you/ 
 
 ' Child ! ' cried she, ' they dare not harm 
 me. I am not afraid. They shall not have 
 you. Go ! ' and suddenly bent forward from 
 the door and kissed me on the lips. Unlocking 
 the door then, drew back from Martha's hands 
 and swept down the stairs towards the clamour 
 about Erskine. 
 
 Old Martha, sobbing, muttered, ' Come ; this 
 way ! Quickly. I must be with the mistress ! ' 
 So led the pair of us through the dark and, 
 stumbling by a little doorway down an iron 
 stair, unlocking then a door, brought us out 
 into the night. None stayed us. The wind 
 deadened all sound we made. They were intent 
 still upon the stair. 
 
 None stayed us, when we hurried over the 
 grass, and to a dark gateway in the wall. And,
 
 The Return of Mr. Gandy 211 
 
 silently, old Martha had unlocked it, and we 
 were without the wall, and scurrying like 
 rabbits for the shelter of a coppice that showed 
 black above the road going to Corbe.
 
 Chapter XXX The Justice 
 
 WE hurried into the tangle of reeds and 
 brambles beneath the wind-tossed coppice. 
 We were heedless of the thorns that tore our 
 garments and our flesh. And, awhile we lay 
 there, listening with straining ears for the 
 clamour of voices back at the Manor. 
 
 And ' Rob/ gasped I, ' what will they do 
 to Mrs. Corbe and Erskine, when they find us 
 gone ? Murder, think you ? ' 
 
 ' Gandy'll not dare ! ' 
 
 ' What does Gandy not dare ? He's brought 
 his neck within reach of the rope often ere 
 this.' 
 
 But he had clapped his hand to my mouth, 
 and was peering forward through the brushwood 
 down the road. I heard then the clatter of 
 horse-hoofs as the rider swept by. He was 
 spurring forward at high speed, plying his 
 whip, and cursing his mount savagely, and he 
 was past the coppice in a flash, and under the 
 wall of Corbe. But, with the moon now shining 
 white from the broken clouds, I believed that 
 I saw John Corbe making back as furiously 
 to the Manor as he had ridden from it that 
 morn. And I took it that the gentleman was 
 
 212
 
 The Justice 213 
 
 speeding thither, either to play the gallant 
 deliverer of Mrs. Corbe from Gandy and his 
 men, or to be assured that I was securely 
 restored to the hands of his partner in evil. 
 
 Twas John Corbe passed/ I muttered to 
 Rob. ' Shall we go back ? Dare we leave 
 Madam and her women if Erskine be dead 
 to face these rogues alone ? ' 
 
 Awhile Rob hesitated, liking as little as I 
 the thought of scurrying away from our friends 
 in Corbe. But he answered finally, ' We can 
 do nothing. Save, maybe, hurry Sir Martin 
 Ainley hither. Let's away, ere they're after 
 us/ 
 
 So we turned our backs upon the Manor, 
 and, by the light of the moon, raced off above 
 the road. Britr and furze and brushwood, for 
 the most at times stretches of broken rock ; 
 at times patches of grass ; at times coppice 
 and wood. In the open, the wind beat furiously 
 upon us, so that we made poor going, our 
 clothes, mended by old Martha during our 
 stay in Corbe, were briar-torn afresh, and our 
 feet bruised and blistered from the stones. 
 Yet on we stumbled, running together when 
 the way was clear, but for the while we dare 
 not take the road lest we fall in with any 
 of Gandy 's rogues left to guard the way against 
 the chance rescuers of Mistress Corbe and her 
 folk. We had been travelling an hour, it might 
 be, when, breathless, we came out ere we knew 
 above the road. And with the moonlight we 
 made out below us a stone bridge, spanning 
 the stream that should run through the village,
 
 214 The Black House 
 
 and the one road striking down by its bank, 
 and the highway going up the hill before us. 
 Silently, then, we dropped down from the 
 bank, and stole in its shadow towards the 
 bridge. And, suddenly, Rob Orme gripped 
 at my arm, and whispered, ' D'ye hear aught ? ' 
 
 Straining my ears to listen then, I made 
 out, at a break in the great wind blowing up, 
 the clatter of hoofs on the road, and I did 
 believe presently the rumble of wheels. 
 
 ' Sir Martin Ainley, d'ye think ? D'ye think ? ' 
 gasped I. 
 
 He muttered, ' Keep in the shadow ! It can 
 scarce be yet.' And he pulled me back against 
 the bank. And sudden like the moon above 
 the hill ; the flash of carriage-lamps on the 
 high road topping the rise above the bridge ; 
 and a carriage coming at a great pace ; and 
 two riders galloping beside it ; and, by the 
 sound and the thunder of hoof-beats, a company 
 pounding after. The moon was mercifully 
 clear from the broken clouds, and plainly we 
 saw them come, carriage and pair rolling 
 down, riders beside it, riders coming after ; 
 aye, and as they thundered over the bridge, 
 and were nigh us, I recognised, spurring hard 
 by the wheel, the young man Robert. There- 
 upon we set up a yell, the pair of us, that 
 caused his mount to shy and nigh throw him 
 from the saddle. But, mastering his horse, 
 he roared out in answer to us, and to the driver 
 of the carriage, and the company of riders. 
 ' Stop ! Stop ! The lads ! ' 
 
 Leaping down then and demanding, ' How
 
 The Justice 215 
 
 d'ye come here ? What's amiss at the Manor ? ' 
 
 ' What is this ? ' growled a heavy voice from 
 within the carriage ; and a plump white hand, 
 flashing with rings, let down the glass. And 
 out there peered, as Robert pushed us forward, 
 a red, choleric, handsome face, with a quizzing 
 glass stuck before his right eye. 
 
 ' These boys, Sir Martin, from the Black 
 House ! ' explained Robert. 
 
 'Byes, hey? What byes? Oh! yes, yes/ 
 and Sir Martin Ainley, opening the carriage 
 door, stepped heavily out. In the light of the 
 silver lamps I saw him for a huge and rotund 
 gentleman, not so very tall, but very broad. 
 His hair was worked up into ornate black 
 curls under the brim of his low-crowned hat ; 
 he had a rich violet-coloured shawl muffled 
 about his throat ; else his body was cased in an 
 immense green greatcoat, with many flaps and 
 pockets and silver buttons ; a pair of dazzling 
 high boots were on his feet. His big face was 
 crimson and congested ; his lips full ; else his 
 features were fine, and his look imperious. 
 
 ' What do ye here, rascals ? ' Sir Martin 
 Ainley demanded. 
 
 And Rob gasped out, ' Oh, sir, pray hurry to 
 the Manor ! Gandy and his men are there 
 have broken in, and Mistress Corbe and her 
 women are at their mercy.' 
 
 Whereat Sir Martin rapped out. ' The deyvle ! 
 And you've run off, leaving that very charm- 
 ing lady, my neighbour, Mistress Corbe ? 
 
 ' By her bidding, sir, that we might not 
 fall into their hands. We did not want '
 
 2i6 The Black House 
 
 ' We waste time here ! ' Sir Martin cut Rob 
 short. ' Into the carriage ! You can tell me 
 as we go.' 
 
 'But, sir, there are many of them thirty 
 or more.' 
 
 He nodded. ' You, Robert what the deyvel's 
 your name ? ride well ahead ! You, Giles, 
 bid your fellows go in a body. Look to your 
 barkers ! In with you ! ' to us. And we 
 were leaping into his luxurious carriage, and 
 he was lumbering in after us, and sitting 
 facing us, and the next instant we were thunder- 
 ing down the road to the Manor. 
 
 ' Now for your tale you ! ' poking a jewelled 
 forefinger at Rob. ' Be brief ! What's chanced ? ' 
 
 Gasping still from our wild race through the 
 night, Rob recounted for him the story of what 
 had passed that night at the Manor, all the 
 while Sir Martin cursing, blowing his nose in 
 a wisp of cambric. 
 
 ' So ! ' he growled. ' So they've dared ! 
 The dogs ! They'll swing for this Gandy 
 and that seaman ! And the rest of the crew'll 
 go overseas for this ! I'll teach these rogues 
 to rue me ! I'll teach I'll teach them ! They'll 
 march the Rogues' march to the tune I'll set 
 'em ' with many curses interspersed. And 
 sudden, ' And, by the Lord Harry, if they've 
 so much as laid a finger on that very charming 
 lady ' kissing the tips of his fingers- ' the 
 whole damned pack shall swing, if there's a 
 rope in England, come the Assizes ! Upon my 
 body ! Upon my very soul ! ' 
 
 Then poking his finger at me. ' You're the
 
 The Justice 217 
 
 bye that claims to be Roger Corbe's son. That 
 fellow told the tale ! And, egad you're like 
 him, too You're like the Corbes. Who should 
 know better than I Roger Corbe's friend ? 
 Damon and Pythias were we, we drank four 
 dozen of port on a night ' breaking off and 
 fixing me with his quizzing glass. Rumbling 
 on again in that rich tone of his, ' You're won- 
 dering why I'm riding in this coach instead of 
 being in saddle ! My most infernal gout ! 
 Driving home from quarter-sessions, I chanced 
 to be, when Mistress Corbe's fellow and my folk 
 came riding up. And off we make, tally-ho, 
 for Corbe.' 
 
 ' John Corbe's ahead of us,' I ventured. 
 
 Whereat Sir Martin scowled black, and his 
 crimson face in the lamplight seemed to grow 
 purple. And choked he, ' And what the 
 deyvle's John Corbe doing at Corbe ! ' 
 
 ' Maybe he's gone to rescue Madam ; maybe 
 to set his fingers on me again.' 
 
 Whereat Sir Martin lurching forward let down 
 the carriage glass, poked out his head, and- 
 roared, ' Make on ! Why the deyvle are you 
 dawdling, ye dawgs ! D'ye hear me ? Make 
 on!' 
 
 Resuming his seat, he set himself to the exam- 
 ination of the loading and priming of a pair of 
 pistols from an oaken case beside him on the 
 cushion ! Muttering to himself, ' The black- 
 guard ! The damned blackguard ! ' with an ill- 
 humour so evident that his tender passion for 
 Mistress Orme and his distaste for John Corbe, 
 as a rival, were emphasized.
 
 218 The Black House 
 
 On now at a new speed, going breakneck by 
 the way to Corbe, and sweeping up the road 
 to the broken gate. Sir Martin, poking his 
 pistols into his pockets and gripping a thick 
 Malacca cane in his hand, as the carriage 
 drew up, descended majestically. From within 
 the Manor came no sound. Sir Martin's men, 
 a dozen or so, rested in the saddle by the 
 gate. 
 
 ' It's most damnably quiet/ growled Sir 
 Martin. ' You, Giles ' to a big fellow leaning 
 from his saddle ' take a couple of men and 
 look to the other gates. D'ye hear me ? Let 
 none pass ! You ' to Robert and another 
 youth ' come with me. See to your barkers ! 
 Come ! ' 
 
 And through the gates swung Sir Martin 
 with the two fellows, and Rob and I unbidden 
 sneaking at their heels. From the shattered 
 hall shone the light with that and the moon 
 I made out the bodies of the hounds lying in 
 a welter of blood by the gate no human shape, 
 though Erskine's fire, I had believed, had 
 brought down a man and the hounds had torn 
 down another, ere Gandy cut their throats. 
 But the light streamed out from the door, and 
 a figure shaped against it ; I uttered a cry of 
 joy, it was Mistress Corbe. Sir Martin, mount- 
 ing the steps, swept off his hat in a most pro- 
 found bow. ' Mistress Corbe, you are unhurt 
 by providence.' 
 
 ' Sir Martin ! ' she uttered a cry of pleasure. 
 ' You've come soon yet too late too late ! ' 
 
 ' Too late ! '
 
 The Justice 219 
 
 ' There have been wild doings at Corbe this 
 night/ 
 
 ' Aye, these byes have told the story. ' 
 
 She ran forward at that with a laughing 
 sobbing cry. She caught our hands and she 
 kissed me, and saying, ' Come inside, pray,' 
 led the way into the house. 
 
 The fire yet blazed upon the hearth ; the 
 lamp was lit ; the room all in disorder, 
 splashes of crimson lying sinister upon the 
 floor, crimson against the white wall by the 
 stair. Old Martha and her maid, with a bowl 
 of steaming water, and a shred of linen, were 
 tending the broken head of old John, who, 
 very white and bemused, was set in a chair by 
 the fire. And propped against the chimney- 
 piece stood John Corbe, black-browed and 
 frowning, his boots and buckskins and his red 
 coat yet splashed from his ride, and his hair tumb- 
 ling in wind-blown rats' tails over his eyes. 
 But of Erskine or of any of Gandy's folk no 
 sign. 
 
 ' They have ransacked the house, ' murmured 
 Mrs. Corbe weakly. ' Seeking the boys ! And 
 not finding them, maybe hearing your coming 
 from afar, have gone.' 
 
 ' Whither ? ' growled Sir Martin, scowling 
 at John. 
 
 ' I think across the marshes to the Black 
 House.' 
 
 ' The rats ! Oh, by Gad, I'll smoke them 
 out. Oh, by the Lord ! Well, sir ! ' with a 
 sudden savage bark, and pointing with his 
 cane at John.
 
 220 The Black House 
 
 ' You're tardy on your magisterial duties, 
 Ainley,' sneered the gentleman. 
 
 ' Not too tardy to lay an odd rogue or so 
 by the heels/ snarled Sir Martin. 'What the 
 deyvle's your share in this infernal business? ' 
 
 ' You're insulting, sir ! ' cried Corbe. 
 
 ' Insulting ! So ! There's a way for gentle- 
 men.' Sir Martin was swelling like a turkey- 
 cock. 
 
 But Mistress Anne broke in. ' Sir Mar- 
 tin, Mr. Corbe, pray ! While you wrangle 
 here 
 
 ' Wrangle, madam, wrangle ! ' protested the 
 justice angrily. 
 
 ' Wrangle ! A gallant gentleman is in the 
 hands of those rogues, wounded and like to 
 die!' 
 
 ' A gentleman ! Oh, the American rebel ! ' 
 Sir Martin snorted. 
 
 ' A very gallant gentleman,' repeated she. 
 ' Mr. Erskine, from the ship Virginian, wrecked 
 on this coast weeks back. He held the stair 
 while these lads escaped from the house , 
 Gandy and his rogues struck him down. When 
 I came back by the stair, they were dragging 
 him away. Bleeding from a blow on his head ! 
 Looking like to die ! ' 
 
 ' Why should they burden themselves with 
 him ? What should they want with him ? ' 
 muttered the Justice. 
 
 ' I know not, save that he had escaped from 
 The Virginian. And that Gandy and the Corbe 
 folk lured her to destruction on the rocks. 
 And that he accused Gandy and threatened
 
 The Justice 221 
 
 vengeance. Or that not finding the boys they 
 dragged him away to wreak their vengeance 
 on him. Maybe to drown in the marsh 
 or to be murdered at the Black House.' And 
 shuddering violently Mistress Anne turned from 
 us, mopping her eyes with her kerchief. 
 
 Sir Martin, regarding her grief with jealous 
 displeasure, growled, ' I'll leave three or four 
 of my fellows here, and ride round to the Black 
 House. By your leave, Madam/ and rolled out 
 to roar his orders to Giles. 
 
 Now the thought of Erskine in peril, and of 
 the likelihood of wild doings on the fens, shut 
 from my mind the thought of Mistress Anne, 
 and the folk in the house. And out at his heels 
 I sped with Rob, and down to the gate. Sir 
 Martin's men were drawn back under the wall; 
 the carriage waited with the coachman leaning 
 down from his perch. And with the black 
 clouds of the wild night the moon was hid ; 
 only the carriage lamps gave light ; beyond their 
 rays the darkness hid marsh and cliffs, as with 
 a heavy pall. A restive horse rearing nigh 
 trod us down, and to escape it Rob and I 
 scurried from the gate, and as it swerved were 
 driven out of the circle of light into the dark- 
 ness towards the marsh. Out of the circle of 
 light out of the safe keeping of our friends. 
 
 Suddenly, ere I might cry out, a sack or 
 cloak was thrown over my head muffling me, 
 choking me fingers of steel were on my 
 throat, throttling me. And, like a sack of 
 meal, I was caught up into strong arms and 
 borne away. Wild with terror from the shock,
 
 222 The Black House 
 
 kicking, struggling, helpless, I realized with 
 sickening dread that again I was in Gandy's 
 hands, and belike Rob, who had been standing 
 by me in the circle of darkness.
 
 Chapter XXXI The Caves of Corbe 
 
 SO struggling wildly, till at a savage wrench 
 at my arm, and Candy's bitter voice in 
 my ear bidding me be still, or he'd slit my 
 throat, I gave up my hopeless contest with his 
 strength, and shaking in every limb, was borne 
 on by him at a great pace out of hearing of my 
 friends. And suddenly he flung me down, and 
 snatching the covering from my head clapped 
 his hand to my mouth, and held me to the turf, 
 looking down at me with malevolent eyes. 
 
 ' So, my dea pupil/ snarled he, ' we resume 
 our happy associations. Dirk you there ! ' 
 
 A bearded fellow smelling most evilly of 
 fish and rum shaped up through the light flung 
 by the escaping moon. 
 
 ' Rope here a gag/ muttered Gandy. 
 ' Truss him up, while I hold his mouth. 
 Have ye the other rogue ? ' 
 
 ' Spliced up, down in the reeds ! ' 
 
 ' Good ! Now ! ' And with his hand about 
 my mouth Gandy forced me round ; and the 
 fellow Dirk gripped my arms behind me, and 
 knotted a lean cord about my wrists, and pres- 
 ently they had me bound and gagged, and caught 
 up in Dirk's great arms I was borne on down 
 
 223
 
 224 The Black House 
 
 the bank. Now the moon was clear from 
 the clouds, and as Dirk let me down upon my 
 feet I made out among the reeds a group of 
 fellows about a little boat, and in it a lean 
 little scamp with a clout about his head, stripped 
 to his shirt and breeches, and gripping a pair 
 of oars. 
 
 ' In with him ! ' ordered Gandy. ' I'll cross 
 with the dogs. Scuttle, you rogues. Scuttle ! 
 The fool Ainley and his folk are at the Manor, 
 and there'll be hanging and gaoling for ye, 
 if they get hold of you ! Scuttle ! Make across 
 the marsh, and for Corbe. Off with you ! ' 
 
 Now from the Manor I heard a sudden outcry, 
 and as the rogues broke and fled, and Gandy 
 pushing off the boat leaped in and we were out 
 upon the waters, I saw them come Sir Martin 
 rushing down the bank, his fellows racing 
 after, a wild scurry of figures. Sir Martin's 
 voice thundered after us, ' Halt ! In the 
 King's name, halt, ye rogues ! ' 
 
 But the whirling wind was up ; but the 
 flying clouds obscured the moon ; but the dark- 
 ness fell like a black pall over bank and waters ; 
 all form was blotted out. 
 
 ' Gandy, you old rogue, I'll have your 
 neck stretched for this ! I'll smoke you out, 
 Gandy, d'ye mark me. Lay a finger on the 
 lads, and by Gad 
 
 Sir Martin's bellow of rage was lost in the 
 roaring wind ; else only Gandy's laughter was 
 in my ears. And the spume of the sea or spray 
 from the wind-lashed waters of the marsh 
 was on my face, and I had a sense that I was
 
 The Caves of Corbe 225 
 
 lying against another body Rob, trussed up 
 as I. 
 
 From the first whirl of rage and terror, and hate 
 of the man in whose cruel hands I was again 
 a prisoner, and grief from my separation from 
 her whom in very truth I did believe my 
 mother, I passed into the dull impassive state 
 wherein I had existed much of my time at the 
 Black House. Save that I had hope that 
 Sir Martin Ainley and his folk might wrest us 
 yet from Gandy's keeping. 
 
 Staring up in the dark I could make out 
 Gandy perched like a monstrous black crow in 
 the stern of the boat, the while the little fellow 
 tugged at his oars with a strength that showed 
 his lean frame as whipcord and steel. And 
 swiftly across the waters shot the boat through 
 the reeds and to the bank below the cliffs 
 topped by the Black House. Afar sounded 
 the clamour of Sir Martin and his men, the roar 
 of a musket, the crack of pistol shots. We 
 were in Gandy's keeping once again, and the 
 very devil of a flogging was the least of the 
 terrors that awaited us. 
 
 As the boat touched the bank, Gandy had 
 leaped out, and the little fellow dropping his 
 oars set his talons on me, and slung me out 
 like a sack of meal. Gandy dragging me to 
 my feet and gripping my shoulder, cried in 
 my ear, to be heard above the wind, tumultuous 
 now, and the thunder of the waters beating 
 on the cliffs of Corbe, ' On, you rogue, on 
 with me ! ' So forced me forward. 
 
 Then through the dark he drew me, going 
 
 15
 
 226 The Black House 
 
 on confidently below the wall of rock, skirting 
 the road that led up to the gates of the Black 
 House, crossing it, and coming into the full 
 volley of the wind and sea. 
 
 Pausing an instant here, he loosed the gag 
 from my mouth, and lit a tiny lantern swing- 
 ing from his belt. Its glimmer showed me, 
 dazed as I was, that Rob was by me, with the 
 little lean fellow playing guard. The moon 
 had raced out of the clouds. The cliff went 
 black above us. And through the broken 
 rock ahead I saw dimly the rolling of great 
 seas, and the white horses driven shoreward, 
 ere the wind coming in tremendous force flung 
 me back with Gandy against the stones. He 
 pushed me before him then my hands yet 
 bound behind my backforward by a stony 
 path hugging the base of the cliff, until we came 
 out above the very sea. 
 
 Now, had the slippery path that climbed the 
 cliff face been wholly exposed, we must have 
 been blown from it by the force of the wind ; 
 but with the rock fallen from the face it was so 
 hedged in that a wall was between us and the 
 violence of the storm, and so high had we 
 mounted on the shoreward side that we were 
 above the wash of waters breaking at the base, 
 though the surf was flung up, and beating on 
 me like rain, drenched me to the skin. Swiftly 
 then Gandy drew me forward from the open 
 into a burrow in the cliffs. Even as we entered 
 the gallery, a fellow started up from the black- 
 ness and roared. ' Who's that ? Stand ! ' 
 
 ' Keep a better watch, fool,' Gandy cried
 
 The Caves of Corbe 227 
 
 back, ' or you'll let Ainley and his dogs in on 
 us ! ' And as the sentinel drew back to let us 
 pass, went on into the cliff. A reek of rotting 
 fish dropped by the sea-fowl stank in my nos- 
 trils. The rocks quivered with the shock of 
 the beating sea ; and echoed like a drum. On 
 Gandy forced me before him, down the widen- 
 ing galleries. Thrice fellows started up and 
 challenged us. but at his answering oath drew 
 back else we went unimpeded till I judged 
 we must be nigh the caves under the Black House 
 whence we had heard the sound of voices. Till 
 suddenly the way was blocked, and to my dull 
 eyes, as Candy's lantern flashed up, I made out 
 a great black door, iron cased, shutting off, I 
 guessed, the way into the smugglers' cave. 
 And Gandy was beating upon the door, and 
 roaring ' Open ! ' and slowly the door was 
 drawing back ; and presently he drove me before 
 him into a great cavern. 
 
 For the instant the glare of lights dazzled 
 me. I made out then a vast rocky chamber 
 lit by four ship's lanterns hung on chains from 
 the roof. A great cavern going away into 
 blackness ! A cavern piled with contraband, 
 and plunder of wrecked ships. Barrel piled 
 above barrel, hogshead above hogshead. A 
 litter of rusty iron and canvas here and there 
 on the trodden sandy floor, sea chests smashed 
 open, and the contents vomited forth. Reek 
 of tobacco and sea, cloud of tobacco smoke. 
 
 ' Twas the landlord of The Gold Scales had 
 admitted us, and he grinned at me as Gandy 
 pushed me in. Four fellows, pig-tailed sea-
 
 228 The Black House 
 
 men three, the other a youth, brown-skinned 
 and black-haired, as an Italian, his fine body 
 clad in cambric shirt, and duck trousers, belted 
 about his middle, had been gaming under a 
 lamp. A rum bottle lay empty, a scattered 
 pack of cards in the sand, as though Candy's 
 return had startled them from their play. 
 And seated on a barrel, his right cheek plas- 
 tered with a mass of oily cotton, was old Ben, 
 scowling most evilly at me. And I, shuddered 
 as I recollected the red iron that had seared 
 his face, and understood the murderous intent 
 in his eye. His fingers played with the knife 
 at his belt. And I knew that Gandy's pres- 
 ence alone stood betwixt me and murder at 
 his hands. 
 
 Sick and blinking and shivering from the 
 drenching of the sea, I stood with Rob under 
 the lamp not daring to meet Mr. Gandy's 
 eyes. Malevolent, and smiling that hateful 
 smile, he looked down upon us like a vulture 
 by sick beasts. 
 
 ' Now, my dear pupils,' his voice was sil- 
 very, ' what apologies have ye for me, ere I 
 flog ye into penitence ? ' 
 
 And the laughter of the group about us 
 echoed through the great cavern, and old Ben 
 croaked drunkenly, ' Slit the lubbers' throats ! ' 
 
 ' Later, maybe, not yet,' purred Mr. Gandy. 
 * Now, ye dogs, what of the silken bag ye 
 stole, and its contents ? Who has them ? ' 
 
 We stood before him as a pair of guilty school- 
 boys before a pedagogue. Indeed, I had a 
 feeling, such the compelling influence of the
 
 The Caves of Corbe 229 
 
 man, as if I had wronged him, and merited the 
 punishment. For the moment only ! And 
 then I dared fling up my head, and face him 
 fairly. 
 
 ' We haven't the truck/ I croaked. ' It's 
 not in our keeping the chart and the gems 
 from the wreck of the galleon on the isle ' 
 
 ' So you know that much ? ' His tone was 
 silver, but I saw the greenish light in his eyes 
 as an angered beast's. 
 
 ' North of New Holland,' I went on. ' Found 
 by the convict 'scaping from Botany Bay ! 
 As you said to John Corbe, on the night ' 
 
 ' Silence ! ' The word cracked out like a 
 pistol shot. And at the livid rage of him, 
 expressed in blazing eyes and working mouth, 
 and outstretched hand clawing the air, I shrunk 
 from him, Yet, quailing before him, I under- 
 stood in that face livid for all its sea bronze, 
 in that great body shrunken and bent that 
 age had Gandy in its grip at last. Age and 
 the man was nigh to breaking decay death ! 
 
 ' D'ye bark at me, ye dog ! ' he cried. ' D'ye 
 bark d'ye dare ? Ye're spies as well as 
 
 thieves are ye ? I'll teach ' and gripped 
 
 me by the collar, and struck furiously at me. 
 His hand falling upon my shoulders flung me 
 down, with the shred of my shirt yet in his 
 fingers. ' A rope's end, Carney,' roared he 
 to the little rogue. ' I'll flay him.' But sud- 
 denly ceased ; his hand outstretched above me, 
 while I lay at his feet. Staggered, and gripped 
 at his breast. A bitter cry came from his 
 throat, he fell back into the arms of his men,
 
 230 The Black House 
 
 body sagging, lips working horribly, face ghastly 
 and dewed with sweat. Gaping at him, as I 
 rose to my feet, and stood apart with Rob, I 
 saw them bear him to a rock, and prop him 
 there, while the young Italian, snatching up a 
 horn cup, filled it with spirit from a puncheon, 
 and held it to his lips. His breath came in 
 great gasps ; his sweat streamed from him ; 
 he seemed a dying man. And for the time I 
 did believe that the hand of death was on him, 
 and that there was an end to all his sinning. 
 Silent the pair of us stood and watched, while 
 old Ben, rocking on the barrel, sang drunkenly 
 to himself, and clamorous the fellows busied 
 themselves with Gandy. Watched, while he 
 swallowed down a little of the spirit, this 
 lending him strength; he tore the kerchief 
 from his neck with shaking fingers and mopped 
 his brows and slobbering mouth, remaining 
 all the while as stricken with a palsy, broken 
 and nigh to death. Again the Italian held 
 the cup to his lips ; he swallowed greedily ; 
 and sat awhile eyes closed, but the colour 
 coming back slowly to his face that had been as 
 a dying man's. And then he lurched to his 
 feet and stood staring before him awhile. And 
 I heard him mutter to himself, ' The hand of 
 God the hand of God ! ' 
 
 At last he stood erect, himself again, though 
 shaken. He looked on me, and the evil in him 
 burned from his eyes. But he did not lay 
 hand on me, only muttered to his men, ' Take 
 the boys ! Hold them fast with the Ameri- 
 can, To-morrow if I live to-morrow 111
 
 The Caves of Corbe 231 
 
 have my toll from their bodies ! To-morrow 
 I'll flay the hides from them. To-night to- 
 night, I've business in the Black House. Ere 
 Ainley and his hounds break in ! Look to 
 your pistols, Carney ' to the little rogue who 
 had ferried us across the marsh. ' You'll come 
 with me ! Your arm ! ' 
 
 And muffling about him a cloak which the 
 Italian handed him, Mr. Gandy, weak and shak- 
 ing yet, passed from the cave, as the seamen 
 dragged us away.
 
 Chapter XXXII End of the Black House 
 
 THE young Italian, lighting a lantern from 
 the brazier, led the way for us and our 
 warders. And went ahead singing gaily to 
 himself, whereat old Ben, who had fallen asleep, 
 awoke, and roared a drunken chorus. The 
 pig-tailed seaman who had his hand upon me 
 was a squat fellow, with a battered broad face, 
 and a broken nose a humorous pair of eyes in 
 relief for his look of villainy. And grinning 
 down at me, as we passed from the cave, and 
 up a flight of stone stairs at the heels of Rob 
 and the others, he growled in my ear 
 
 ' Sick, the captain was, hey, shipmate ? ' 
 
 'You heard him/ I answered. 'The hand 
 of God !j f 
 
 ' The 'and of Gawd ! Oh, aye and belike ! 
 Sick as a lad I saw once at Vera Cruz sick- 
 enin' for Yellow Jack ! You wouldn't think, 
 would ye, shipmate it's Yellow Jack ? And 
 we're all like to sicken of it, too ? ' 
 
 ' He's old ! He's broken ! ' 
 
 ' Not Yellow Jack ! I've seen a whole ship's 
 company sick of it, and only me and the cabin 
 boy left alive ! Died, like as many flies ! 
 " Old," ses you. And the " 'And of Gawd ! " 
 
 232
 
 End of the Black House 233 
 
 ses 'e. Sick 'e was, like a death's 'ead for 
 to see ! Saved your starn, his bein' sick, and 
 not fit to flog you. To-morror, ses he. Aye, an' 
 to-morrer, hell have ye tied up, and roarin' 
 till yer blood runs ! I've sailed with 'im. 
 When 'e ran the Tortoise ashore on the 
 Devil's Horn. Hard put to it 'e was to 
 get away from the Neeroos, King's ship, an' 
 after 'im ! 'Twas sink or strike for the old 
 Tortoise full she was, too, with what we'd 
 took silks and fal-lals for Boston, an' the 
 Governor and his crew never got 'em. Sink 
 'er we did, an' I was tellin' yer, though, 
 of the run we made from the Neeroos. And 
 'twas strike or sink. We sunk ! On to the 
 Devil's Horn, 'e put 'er ! There was rum 
 
 aboard, and wines ! And the company of 
 
 the old Tortoise drowned as they'd lived ! 
 Drunk ! 'Cept for the Captain, and Ben, as 
 was 'is bosun, an' me, as was ship's boy. Thirty 
 years gone an' more ! 'E's old, the Captain ! 
 Seventy, an' odd, should ye say ? Aye, belike, 
 seventy an' odd. And the " ' And o' Gawd, "ses 
 'e ! Sick, and afeard ! I'm as feared neither 
 Gawd nor man ! Thirty year since an' 
 odd!' 
 
 Breaking off, as we came to the head of the 
 stairs a narrow terrace of rock before an iron- 
 barred grating. Now whatever the manner of 
 men of the Black House centuries past, they 
 had built stoutly, for defence, and for the 
 safe keeping of their enemies. These cliffs 
 beneath the house were burrowed as a very 
 rabbit-warren, washed by the sea, indeed, in
 
 234 The Black House 
 
 ages past, and by the men of the Black House 
 turned to a vast stronghold and dungeons. 
 This prison that was to be ours was only a 
 shallow cave, but before it they had set this 
 grating of iron bars, locked once, but now 
 secured from opening only by a great block of 
 stone, which took the combined strength of 
 the Italian and the seamen to shift back. At 
 their clamour suddenly a pale face shaped from 
 within against the lantern light, and I could 
 not repress a cry of joy. For it was Erskine, 
 head wrapped in a bloody clout, eyes bright 
 with fever. He had been lying against the 
 grating on a pile of sails, where they had flung 
 him when they had dragged him thither from 
 the Manor, for what purpose I knew not save 
 that Gandy desired him in safe keeping. Yet 
 for the daring that was his own in sparing one 
 who had fought against him bravely, when 
 the men of Corbe might well have murdered 
 him on the marshes. 
 
 Erskine, muttering feebly, ' So they have 
 you,' fell back on the canvas, as the seamen 
 thrust us through, and shut the grating on us. 
 And he whispered feebly, ' Ask them to bring 
 us water. I burn with fever/ 
 
 Rob, standing against the grating as the fel- 
 lows rolled back the stone, called to them, 
 1 This gentleman is like to die. Bring us water 
 for him.' 
 
 The seaman who had told me the story of 
 Gandy 's wrecking of his ship, answered back, 
 ' Oh, aye, and belike a drop of rum. An' a 
 biscuit. Though the Captain gave no orders
 
 End of the Black House 235 
 
 sich or to the contrary. What d'ye say, Bill ? ' 
 to his mate. 
 
 ' Say ! ' Bill grunted. ' Well, if 'e wants it, 
 'e orter 'ave it, Mat ! Though I don't believe 
 'e wants it. Water ! ' And Bill spat contemp- 
 tuously. 
 
 Their footsteps echoed down the stair. And 
 we were left caged in that black cavern, and the 
 dark was the dark of the pit, and the air was 
 heavy with foul gases, and a reek as the reek 
 of rotting weed on a sea beach. 
 
 Rob, bending over Erskine, was asking, ' Are 
 you much hurt, sir ? Can we do aught for 
 you ? ' 
 
 ' No more than a broken head,' answered 
 Erskine, ' and a sword point through my arm. 
 Well enough ! Have they done you harm, 
 lads ? ' 
 
 We assured him that we were unhurt. We 
 told him our tale, of the coming of Sir Martin 
 Ainley, and how it chanced that we had fallen 
 into Gandy 's hands. And we learned from him 
 that Gandy had struck him down, and that 
 when he had recovered his senses from the blow, 
 he lay a prisoner in the great cavern. ' And 
 what their purpose,' he said, ' I cannot think, 
 save to have hostages to barter against the 
 King's men. Or that our worthy Gandy in 
 his age stops short of murder, lest the score 
 against him spell entire damnation. I think 
 the rogue is two men Gandy, who feared not 
 God or man in his youth, and Gandy, grown old 
 and fearing God, not man. Here's our man 
 with water/
 
 236 The Black House 
 
 The seaman, Mat, came stumping slowly up 
 the stairway. He brought to us a pail of water 
 and a cup of horn, a rum bottle and some broken 
 biscuit. And growling, ' What cheer, ship- 
 mates ? ' set down the pail within our reach 
 through the bars, pushed in the cup and the 
 biscuit to us the bottle he held lovingly ere 
 he drew the cork, and took a swig for himself, ere 
 he thrust it into my hands. 
 
 ' Jamaica ! ' he said, wiping his mouth with 
 his paw. ' Old Jamaica, ripe as the Captain. 
 Puts the 'eart into a man. Drink it down ! 
 It'll put the 'eart into ye, my lad, an' ye'll 
 need all the 'eart for to-morrer, when the 
 Captain 'as ye tied up, an' the cat's bitin' into 
 ye ! Drink it down ! ' And muttering to him- 
 self passed down the stairs once more. 
 
 So, while Erskine gulped down cup after 
 cup of the water, I recounted to him the scene 
 in the cave, and the sickness that had come 
 upon Gandy and had saved me from his anger, 
 and of his threats that on the morrow Rob and 
 I were to pay in full. 
 
 He said no word, but his thirst assuaged lay 
 back on the pile of canvas, falling almost in- 
 stantly into a heavy sleep from weakness from 
 the blood he had lost. 
 
 For all the weariness that was upon me, I 
 might not sleep. The whirl of happenings 
 those last days, the thought of Mistress Anne, 
 who should be my mother, the bitter sense 
 that happiness had offered, and that the rogues 
 of Corbe had snatched me from it, the certain 
 lively dread of what should come to pass, the
 
 End of the Black House 237 
 
 recollection of Gandy 's awful face, as a death's 
 head, when he had sought to flog me, were 
 as the very phantoms of fever. And yet there 
 was a solace in it that Erskine and Rob Orme 
 were with me, and that Sir Martin Ainley would 
 not rest till he had laid Gandy and his rogues 
 by the heels, and plucked us from their keep- 
 ing. 
 
 ' Rob,' muttered I through the dark to him, 
 lying by my side, ' will Sir Martin ever find 
 us in this place ? ' 
 
 ' Hell die in a fit of rage/ he answered, 'if 
 Gandy 'scape him.' 
 
 ' Just as Gandy nigh died to-night. Did you 
 hear him ? " The Hand of God." 
 
 ' Aye, I heard him. You had the deuce's 
 own fortune, Jim. You wouldn't have been 
 lying easily here.' 
 
 ' Or you.' 
 
 ' No, but his arm might have tired before 
 he flogged me. That morning on the cliffs 
 would have been nothing for you. What's his 
 purpose with us, d'ye think, Jim ? Why, when 
 he runs the risk of hanging should he want us 
 here ? ' 
 
 ' Unless he cannot endure that any should 
 have the better of him/ 
 
 ' I think it so. The very devil of a rogue 
 he's been. Pirate he's been master of his ship. ' 
 
 'The Tortoise,' I said.. 'Aye, the Tortoise 
 was his ship ! That's why the blue tortoise is 
 tattooed on his arm, and Ben's/ Recounting 
 to him then the yarn old Mat had spun me as 
 we came up the stairway.
 
 238 The Black House 
 
 ' And he's gone up to the Black House/ said 
 Rob. ' Belike to rescue the lovely Keziah from 
 Sir Martin's gallantries. She'd run sore peril 
 in such company. Or to blow the house sky 
 high, when Sir Martin and his men arrive. 
 Will Madam remind them of our tale of the 
 ladder down from the bedchamber ? And they 
 break into the cave that way do you think ? ' 
 
 So in conjecture we passed in the dark it 
 might have been an hour, ere Rob was silent 
 and slumbering, And for weariness at length 
 my fevered brain was dulling, and I, too, was 
 dropping asleep by the grating. Suddenly there 
 came a dull roar as distant thunder, and a wild 
 cheer echoing up from the cavern. And sand 
 and little stones fell from the roof above us. 
 The three of us were on our feet on the instant, 
 and clinging to the iron bars. Still the clam- 
 our rose from the cave drunken cheering, 
 wild laughter. Gandy's voice echoed above 
 all. The crash and roar of falling stone and 
 timber seemed to sweep down into the cave 
 below us. And an end to the cheering and 
 laughter, and a tumult of wild cries. 
 
 ' What's happening ? ' I called to Rob Orme. 
 ' What's come to pass ? ' 
 
 ' I think I think an end to the Black 
 House. Gandy's set a match in a powder- 
 barrel. God help Sir Martin and his folk ! '
 
 Chapter XXXIII The ' Sea Hawk ' 
 
 FOR the while we remained by the grating 
 seeking to learn what passed in the cave 
 below. But, when the smugglers' cheering 
 died, they fell to silence and no sound came 
 up, save only the eternal roll of the sea, and 
 the wash of waters against the cliff. Nor, 
 though I stayed wakeful, when Rob and 
 Erskine had fallen asleep, and though I strained 
 my ears, heard I aught save the occasional 
 mutter of voices, and once the rolling of a bar- 
 rel over the shingle. At last for all my fear 
 and grief I slept as they. 
 
 I was awakened by the flash of a lantern on 
 my face, and for the moment believing that I 
 was yet in the Black House and that Mr. Gandy 
 was staring down at me, I feigned to sleep still. 
 But the seaman Mat roared through the grating. 
 ' Tumble up ! D'ye hear me ! Tumble up ! 
 Captain's orders. All hands on deck ! ' 
 
 Mat and his mate Bill were rolling back the 
 stone from the grating, while the little fellow, 
 Carney, held a lantern. And shivering, yawn- 
 ing, rubbing our eyes, we stood up in our prison. 
 
 Now this Carney was a fellow of middle age, 
 red polled, pallid of face and green of eye. 
 
 239
 
 240 The Black House 
 
 He was clad soberly in homespun, his throat 
 was cased in a black stock, his linen neat and 
 starched. He resembled an attorney's clerk, 
 standing there shabby and cadaverous, but 
 he wore about his middle a leather belt, wherein 
 a pistol was stuck he held a second pistol 
 in his hand. 
 
 ' It's well that you should know/ said Car- 
 ney in a soft voice, ' that I'll shoot on sight, 
 if you try any tricks on me. Such are Mr. 
 Gandy's orders to me, Erskine ! You'll do 
 wisely to be reasonable He had a curious 
 habit of simple speech fitting his manner of 
 dress, and the mildness of his demeanour that 
 only his evil eyes belied. Erskine gave him 
 not a word in answer, but, when the gate swung 
 back, stepped out, and yet weak from his hurts, 
 staggered slowly down the stair, Rob and I 
 following at his heels, and the three coming 
 after. 
 
 The lanterns burning in the cave revealed 
 a scene that showed preparation for flight. 
 Sea chests open, with garments and such stuff 
 as mariners treasure up from voyages to 
 foreign lands lying loose and scattered in the 
 sand; ten or so of the Corbe folk, youths for 
 most, busied, some in rolling down barrels 
 whither the cold sea air blowing in and the 
 wash of waters betokened the entrance to the 
 cave, the rest in a group about the brazier, 
 feeding on biscuit and bacon, while Mr. Gandy, 
 ghastly pale still, perched upon a sea chest, 
 very much as a black crow. Of Ben I saw 
 nothing, but his voice bellowed up from below,
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' 241 
 
 as if he gave orders for the lowering of the 
 barrels. As we came blinking into the light Mr. 
 Gandy smiled frostily upon us. 
 
 ' So, Mr. Erskine, so, my pupils/ says he. 
 ' You slept well, I trust/ 
 
 Erskine, regarding him haughtily, gave him 
 never a word. 
 
 ' And are rested, and fit for fresh fatigue/ 
 proceeded Mr. Gandy. ' We leave this place 
 within a few minutes. Eat the fare is poor ; 
 such as it is you are heartily welcome/ 
 
 And signing to the young Italian, bade him 
 supply us with biscuit and bacon. Erskine, 
 turning his back deliberately on Gandy, sat 
 down by the brazier, the two of us standing by 
 him. My mind was filled with new conjecture 
 at Mr. Gandy 's words. I took it that the 
 smugglers' ship whose lights at sea we had 
 marked from the windows of the Black House 
 was lying in some sheltered cove, and that 
 Mr. Gandy and his rogues proposed to board 
 her my conjecture was why he should 
 carry us with him, for such was his apparent 
 purpose. 
 
 We had scarce the time to swallow down a 
 little food, and a mug of black coffee, ere a loud 
 call came echoing up into the cave. Mr. Gandy, 
 wrapping his cloak about him, and pressing 
 his hat down over his brows, strode away in 
 answer. ' Bring them along ! ' he ordered over 
 his shoulder to the seamen. 
 
 They gripped every man his musket or his 
 pistol, and buckled his cutlass, and stood as 
 guard about us,, the seaman Bill bidding us 
 
 16
 
 242 The Black House 
 
 surlily to ' Look alive ! ' and so they marched 
 us down after Mr. Gandy. Now, for the lan- 
 terns and the pale light of dawn coming up 
 through the mouth of the cave, I saw the bar- 
 rels of powder open, and a grey train laid the 
 way down, understanding that it was not 
 Gandy 's purpose that all the smuggled liquor 
 and tobacco and ship's stores should fall 
 into the hands of Sir Martin, if he came that 
 way, but that he would blow down the rocks 
 from the entrance of the cave, and seal it for 
 ever. 
 
 So we descended from the great cave into 
 the light of dawn. We were looking out from 
 a vast archway shut off from full view at sea 
 by masses of rock, fashioned by the waves into 
 fantastic shapes. Above the pillars of rock 
 the sea-fowl flew ghostly in the pale light of 
 dawn ; sea-fowl were wheeling and shrilling 
 in a cloud about the great arch ; beyond the 
 rocks I could make out the tumbling grey sea, 
 and the white shower of spray, as the waters 
 broke with a sullen sound against the cliffs. 
 And riding off shore a brig, faint as the Flying 
 Dutchman in the dawn, no lamps burning. 
 But of Sir Martin Ainley and his men along the 
 cliffs by which we had come in the night no 
 sound. And drawn up on the shingle below 
 us I saw three boats, one pushing off with a 
 load of barrels, a second grouped about by a 
 half-dozen of the smugglers, Carney directing 
 them ; in the third boat no one as yet. Now 
 if we had thought of resistance against the 
 thirty and odd rogues about us, the notion
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' 243 
 
 must have been driven speedily from our 
 heads, for the seaman Mat, marching down 
 by my side, suddenly plucked a pistol from his 
 belt, and cocking it clapped it to my ear, vow- 
 ing with a foul oath that if I sought to trick 
 them he'd blow out my brains. So, too, his 
 fellows covered Erskine and Rob, so helpless 
 we marched down the last steps from the cave 
 to the shingle by the boats. 
 
 Mr. Gandy, leaping into the third boat, bade 
 the three of us follow and seat ourselves in the 
 stern, the seamen Mat and Bill, and a young 
 fisherman, followed after, and set themselves 
 to the oars, the big fellow, Dirk, pushing the 
 boat off with a mighty shove, leaped in after 
 us, and fell with the rest to pulling out. Mr. 
 Gandy sat at the helm, his pistol ready on his 
 knee. 
 
 ' Don't seek to hail your friends ashore, 
 Mr. Erskine/ said Mr. Gandy mildly. And 
 played suggestively with the trigger. But, 
 indeed, Erskine, for weakness from his hurts 
 and loss of blood, was not in a fit case for 
 attempting rescue. He had sunk down be- 
 tween us and lay ghastly and leaden-eyed, in 
 a stupor. 
 
 Out through the wash into the cove ; out 
 with the sea-birds shrilling above us ! Out 
 with the rollers coming now to break us against 
 the cliff, or the monstrous, jagged rocks that 
 held the full wash of the sea from the smugglers. 
 The spray broke over us in showers. The sea- 
 men struggling at the oars cursed and groaned 
 for the force of the rollers. The wind had
 
 244 The Black House 
 
 dropped in the night, and the sea was fallen 
 to sullen surge, yet at the force of the breakers 
 we were nigh forced in under the very cliffs. 
 Once we shipped a sea that might have swamped 
 us, whereat Mr. Gandy cried harshly to Rob 
 and me to bale out the boat with the tin cans 
 lying at our feet ; and dully we fell to our 
 task. Now as we drew out of the cove, and 
 met the full force of the rollers, our boat seemed 
 no more than a bobbing cork, and our drown- 
 ing inevitable. In the clear light I saw the 
 cliffs of Corbe above us ; and when we 
 dipped in the trough the rollers looked like 
 the cliffs grey walls of water tumbling to 
 engulf us in their ruin. Gandy 's voice shout- 
 ing orders to his men rang out like a trumpet 
 call. He had dropped his pistol ; he was giv- 
 ing both hands now to the helm ; his hat was 
 blown from his head, his white ha*ir blew out 
 from his livid face, his eyes were alight with 
 mastery and command. Save for his voice 
 the air was filled with the thunderous beat 
 of the surf on the cliffs, like the roll of great 
 drums, and the shriek of sea-fowl whirling in 
 clouds above us. 
 
 Out ! We were riding high on the crest of 
 a vast wave. Pausing in my task of baling, 
 I saw the brig it might be a half-mile from us, 
 creeping as nigh to the coast as it dared, and at 
 the sight of it Mr. Gandy sent over the waters 
 a cheer of triumph. Now the rowers fell hard 
 to the oars, and the spray nigh swamped us, and 
 Mr. Gandy bellowed frantic orders at Rob and 
 me, if we showed signs of flagging at our task.
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' 245 
 
 And we were beating out and out towards the 
 brig once from the crest of a wave I saw the 
 boat that had put out ahead of us ; once 
 staring back I made out through the sea spume 
 the cliffs of Corbe, but where the chimney stacks 
 of the Black House should have topped the 
 buttress of rock, I could see nothing. Mr. 
 Gandy understood my thoughts, for he burst 
 into cackling laughter. And above the beat 
 of oars and splash of the seas his voice rang in 
 my ears 
 
 ' Do you look for the Black House my 
 house ? There's naught else but a heap of 
 stones in the green cup where the Black House 
 stood for all the years. It's a tomb for the 
 fool Ainley and your friends, you dogs ! A 
 tomb ! A warning to all meddling justices. 
 Under the stones they'll lie till Judgment 
 Day ! ' And shook his fist with a bitter male- 
 diction back at the cliffs. 
 
 But on the cliffs it seemed to me I saw the 
 moving figures of men, in the sunlight the 
 gleam of a musket barrel, the scarlet of a coat. 
 And in spite of Mr. Gandy 's declaration that 
 under the ruins of the Black House lay the 
 stout bluff gentleman, I did my preceptor the 
 honour to credit him with lying. Observing 
 the figures on the cliff I fell to wondering for 
 the last boat and Carney and its crew and 
 the barrels of powder in the smugglers' cave, 
 and the train laid ready for the match. But 
 the menace in Mr. Gandy 's tone, ' Look 
 to your baling, dolt ! ' set me to my task 
 again,
 
 246 The Black House 
 
 So in wretched plight, drenched with spray, 
 numbed for the chill of the morn, though the sun 
 was glittering now upon the waters, I baled on 
 dully for it might have been an hour. All this 
 while Erskine lay in a half stupor ; all this 
 while the rogues toiled at the oars, and Mr. 
 Gandy tended the helm. Suddenly looking up 
 as a hoarse voice hailed us over the waters, I 
 saw with a start that the brig which had been 
 holding off shore awaiting the boats from 
 the cave was bearing down upon us. A little brig, 
 with a great sea-hawk gilded for figurehead, 
 slowly beating down towards us, for the wind 
 had dropped to the merest light breeze, and the 
 sea was falling. Men were clustered upon her 
 deck ; men in the rigging ; presently as she 
 was nigh us, and so riding lightly in the wash 
 of the sea, a rope came whirling down through 
 the air into Candy's hands. 
 
 And the brig hove to and we drew in under 
 her side ; and a rope ladder was dropped 
 down towards us, now within easy reach, 
 now high above our heads as the brig rolled 
 sluggishly. While thus we held alongside, 
 Mr. Gandy snarled to Rob and me, ' Get 
 ready to go aboard ! Grip the ladder when 
 it drops. Grip the ladder ! You first ! ' to 
 me. 
 
 Sick for fear lest I should miss my grip, and 
 be cast to drown in the sea, I stood up shakily 
 in the boat ; watched till the ladder swung 
 down towards me, and gripped it high. I 
 swung up with it, but I clung like a leech to 
 the rung, set my feet on the lowest, and drew
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' 247 
 
 myself up. The landlord of The Gold Scales, 
 leaning over the side, caught me by my jacket 
 and dropped me like a sack of meal on the 
 deck.
 
 Chapter XXXIV Aboard 
 
 WE came aboard the Sea Hawk in security. 
 And we were beating offshore to pick 
 up the last boatload from the cave. In the 
 confusion of our coming, and the picking up of 
 our boat, the master and the men of the brig 
 paid Erskine and Rob and me scant heed, 
 tumbling Erskine on to the deck after they 
 had hauled him aboard by a rope, and leav- 
 ing him lying there. The American was ghastly 
 pale, and looking like to die. Yet for a while 
 Rob and I, exhausted from our toil in the 
 boat, lay by him, weak and gasping, and 
 gave him no heed, until Mat, good-humoured 
 enough, although he had sailed with Gandy 
 on his ship the Tortoise, came stumping up 
 with a mug of grog, and handed it to me. 
 ' Get some o' that down his throat/ says Mat. 
 ' He's looking as sick as if he'd croak. Grog's 
 bin the ruin of many a good man, but it's bin 
 the savin' of plenty more.' 
 
 I held the cup to Erskine 's lips, and trickled 
 a little of the spirit down his throat. So potent 
 a draught was this that it nigh choked him, 
 and coughing and gasping he sat up, and 
 blinked about him. And, ' Where the deuce 
 are we ? ' he asked. 
 
 248
 
 Aboard 249 
 
 I answered, ' Safe for the time. Drink 
 this ! ' and held the cup again to his lips. . 
 
 He gulped down then a mouthful of the rum, 
 and through his weakness the strength of the 
 dram overpowered him, for he lay back upon the 
 deck like a dead man, though colour was flow- 
 ing to his lips and cheeks. And I had time 
 then to look about me, and to observe the for- 
 tune of the third boat. 
 
 Tending Erskine I had not noticed the grow- 
 ing excitement on the deck : of the Sea Hawk. 
 The fellows who had come off safely from the 
 cave and the crew of the smuggler alike were 
 swarming in the rigging, and clustered at the 
 ship's side staring shorewards, and their clamour 
 alternated from cheering to menace and savage 
 imprecation according to the fortunes of a 
 contest that was off shore. Staggering with 
 Rob across the reeling deck, and clinging to 
 the bulwarks, I saw that the last boat was mak- 
 ing out from the rocks for the brig, but that 
 another boat was coming up from Corbe, rowed 
 with lusty strokes, to intercept its passage. 
 Aye, and I saw in this great boat a dozen or so 
 of red-coats King's men and the sunlight 
 gleaming from the barrels of their muskets, and 
 with them in the stern-sheets a stout figure, 
 whom I took to be Sir Martin Ainley. Now 
 high on the crest of a wave, now in the trough 
 of the sea, the smugglers' boat, deeply laden 
 with barrels from the cave, came on towards 
 us so slowly that the second boat must clearly 
 cut it off. Mr. Gandy, glass at eye, was stand- 
 ing close by us so intent on "the chase that he
 
 250 The Black House 
 
 did not notice us by him a short, dark-bearded 
 fellow, whom for his blue, gold-braided coat 
 I took to be the master of the Sea Hawk. 
 Mr. Gandy turns upon this fellow, and mutters, 
 ' They'll have her unless we blow them to the 
 devil. Clear the gun/ 
 
 ' Not I/ the other answered carelessly. ' I've 
 run enough risk for you and your fellows, Mr. 
 Gandy. I'll not risk bringing a King's ship 
 down on me.' 
 
 ' I tell you, Banks ' 
 
 ' See here, Mr. Gandy,' Banks cut him short, 
 ' there's one master aboard this ship. That's 
 me ! ' And turned upon his heel and walked off. 
 
 Mr. Gandy, cadaverous and livid of face, 
 slung his cloak about him, and stood an in- 
 stant peering after him. And there was men- 
 ace in his look, and in the fumbling of his fine 
 white hand at his waist, as if he sought a pistol. 
 But mastering himself he laughed, and turned 
 back to peer shorewards. 
 
 On that instant I saw a burst of red flame 
 from the cave. I saw great rocks flung high, 
 and the cliff face slide suddenly into the sea. 
 The waters flew up in a white cloud ; the sea- 
 fowl went whirling ; and a pillar of smoke blot- 
 ted the rocks from my sight. Presently like a 
 clap of thunder the sound of the explosion 
 from the cave reached the brig. Aye, and that 
 very instant the King's boat shot athwart the 
 smugglers' boat ; and the muskets flashed in 
 the sun no more I saw, for Mr. Gandy had 
 whirled upon us, and the demon of rage 
 possessing him, looked from his eyes.
 
 Aboard 251 
 
 ' What do ye here ? ' barked he. ' What do 
 ye here ? You'd look on brave fellows done to 
 death by a dolt of a justice, and a pack of red- 
 coats ? You would And beckoned with 
 
 shaking claw to the seaman Mat standing by. 
 ' Get these rogues below/ he ordered. ' See 
 that they're kept secure ! You'll pay if they 
 sheer off ! With your back.' So he marched 
 off along the deck to the master's cabin. Mat, 
 bidding a couple of the crew take up Erskine, 
 growled to Rob and me to come after him, and 
 look lively, and gripping the pair of us by the 
 collars led us below. By the gangway he 
 brought us stumbling down into a little cabin 
 foul with bilge, and murky from a dirty port- 
 hole, having in it only a couple of sea-chests, 
 a hammock slung, a bunk with a tumbled pile 
 of blankets. 
 
 ' There ye are, me hearties,' said Mat cheer- 
 fully. ' There ye are ! Fit for King George 
 himself an' the Prince an' all the rest of the 
 Royal family. D'ye like it ? No ? Not that 
 it matters a curse, for here the Captain 'e says 
 you're to be kept, and Captain's orders is Cap- 
 tain's orders, or it's rank mutiny on the high 
 seas. Stow 'im there ! ' pointing to the bunk, 
 as the seamen bearing Erskine followed at our 
 heels into the little black cabin. ' Easy ! The 
 feller's head's broken, an' 'e's as sick as ever a 
 dog. Easy ! ' all the while spreading out the 
 blankets over the straw pallet until the seamen 
 tumbled Erskine into the bunk and stamped 
 out of the cabin. 
 
 Mat, ramming down the tobacco in his pipe
 
 252 The Black House 
 
 with a little finger, paused to point the stem at 
 us, as if for emphasis. ' Captain's hisself again/ 
 said he. ' Treat, ain't it, to 'ear 'im curse, as 
 if he was aboard the old Tortoise \ Looked at 
 you, 'e did, as I saw 'im look once at the Barba- 
 does to a son of a gun as spoke back to 'im. 
 Young feller, 'e was, an' new to the Captain. 
 Tied up 'e was, an' 'is back as a bit o' red meat 
 before e' found out who was master o' the ship. 
 Seems to me that's what e's savin' up for you ! 
 Seein' you spyin' round, an' ten good fellers 
 like to be sunk by your friends ! Didn't like 
 it, the Captain didn't, as any with 'arf an eye 
 could make out ! ' Pausing as sudden across 
 the waters came the rattle of muskets, and 
 answering shrieks and cheers. 
 
 ' Murder's what I call it/ said Mat, as he 
 banged the door to, and shot the bolt. ' Murder 
 on the high seas/ and stumped away. 
 
 So Rob and I were left alone with Erskine, 
 lying now like a log alone in the foul little 
 cabin, lit only through the blurred circle of 
 the port-hole. And Rob, leaning back on a sea- 
 chest, burst suddenly into bitter laughter. 
 And 'Jim/ cries he, 'here's a pretty pass! 
 We get away from the Black House, for all 
 its bolts and bars ; we risk breaking our necks 
 in the caves of Corbe, and drowning in the 
 fens ! And here we are aboard the Sea Hawk, 
 with Gandy stumping the deck over our heads, 
 and thinking out how he may exact full reckon- 
 ing out of our bodies ! Why, Jim, we've the 
 deuce's own fortunes, and Heaven itself directs 
 the destinies of our guardians. And, Jim,
 
 A board 253 
 
 I've come to such an ebb of fortune, that I 
 care not a snap of the fingers what the end 
 of it's to be. Plank or yard-arm, or a mere rope's 
 end. What's it matter, Jim, when all's said 
 and done ? 
 
 ' Jim ' as the spray splashed suddenly 
 against the port-hole ' we're putting out to 
 sea ! Old Sir Martin's blown the boat's crew 
 to the devil ! '
 
 Chapter XXXV Lure of Treasure 
 
 NOW, for days thence, we were held close 
 prisoners on the Sea Hawk. Erskine, in- 
 deed, was removed from our company by Mr. 
 Gandy 's orders though whether because he was 
 like to die from his hurts, or because Mr. Gandy 
 feared his association with us, or purposed to 
 end his business by dropping him overboard, 
 we could not conjecture. For towards night 
 Mr. Gandy himself came down into the cabin, 
 attended by the seaman Mat, came, looking 
 very bent and white in the dim light of the 
 lantern he carried so sick still from his 
 seizure in the cave that, though I believe he 
 had contemplated the deuce's own flogging for 
 the pair of us, he employed his cane only to 
 support his feeble body, till he dropped wearily 
 on to the sea-chest, and peered at us dully. 
 And not a word said Mr. Gandy to us, and 
 not a word said we, scowling at him. But 
 he noted that Erskine was in a high fever, 
 babbling in his bunk, and, motioning with his 
 cane to Mat, Mr. Gandy muttered, ' The fellow's 
 like to die on our hands. Move him out of 
 this. He's a brave rogue and deser\ ?s to live. 
 Get some of your shipmates and carry him 
 into the air.' 
 
 254
 
 Lure of Treasure 255 
 
 So, when Mat and a couple of smugglers had 
 lifted Erskine out of the bunk, and carried 
 him away wrapped in his blanket, Mr. Gandy 
 tottered after them. 
 
 Three days locked for the most in the little 
 reeking cabin, taking our meals there, scant 
 meals for the first two days, for we were 
 deucedly sick, from the sea, and could 
 scarce move out of our blankets. At night, 
 for an hour or more, we were allowed out on 
 deck, watched ever by the seaman Mat, and 
 able to make out nothing, save in the chance 
 shining of the moon through the clouds we 
 saw the tumbling waters all about us. But 
 we were beating only up and down the coast, 
 it seemed, for on the third morn when we 
 woke, the brig lay at anchor, and when we 
 were allowed on deck that morning, we found 
 ourselves in a little cove nigh land-locked, 
 the cliffs about us much as the cliffs of Corbe, 
 and ashore only the smoke of a wretched group 
 of huts, a few boats drawn up on the beach, 
 all as if we lay off Corbe. And we saw in a 
 boat, pulling shorewards, Mr. Gandy and a 
 half-dozen or so of the Corbe folk ; and were 
 yet conjecturing whether Banks was landing 
 the smugglers, now that they were out of 
 immediate reach of the King's justice, when 
 Mat scurried the pair of us below once more. 
 And to our eager questions for Erskine, he 
 told us only that the fellow's hurts were mending, 
 but when we asked whether we were to be put 
 ashore at this place, and were we yet in England 
 or off the coast of France, he laid his ringer
 
 256 The Black House 
 
 aside his nose, grinned at us, spat out a mouthful 
 of tobacco juice, but answered not a word. 
 Long we debated what now should happen to 
 us, passing the day wretchedly enough, until, 
 the night dropping, the door was unlocked for 
 us, and we mounted to the deck. But we 
 stayed only a brief while in the air, for, as we 
 paced to and fro, we chanced suddenly upon 
 old Ben beneath a lantern, and the wicked 
 glare of his eye, when he saw me, and his foul 
 oath, and his threat as he pointed to his seared 
 and swollen cheek that he would do for me 
 yet, drove us to the security of the cabin. 
 All the next day the brig lay at anchor in the 
 cove, and till nigh the next evening we were 
 held prisoner. Mat, coming then, ordered us 
 off to the master's cabin. 
 
 ' The captain's got company/ vouchsafed he. 
 ' Friends of yours.' 
 
 A precious company was seated about the 
 table in the master's cabin. The light of the 
 reeking lamp showed us Mr. Gandy, pale and 
 cadaverous, John Corbe in his riding jacket, 
 and to complete the circle of friends of mine, 
 my beloved guardian, Mr. Josiah Pounds, 
 wearing as sour an expression as ever graced 
 the withered features of his sister Lavinia. 
 There was with them a stout fellow of middle 
 age, his face as large as a large white moon, 
 his eyes small and furtive behind their spectacles, 
 his suit of a respectable black, his linen of a 
 glossy whiteness. On espying this fellow Rob 
 stopped dead, and centred his gaze upon him. 
 At which the stout man folded his hands over
 
 Lure of Treasure 257 
 
 his capacious stomach, and blinked benevolently 
 upon Rob. And I guessed him to be the 
 sanctimonious fellow Eggleston, who had wedded 
 Rob's kinswoman, and had placed him in 
 Candy's hands, while the pair of them lived 
 fatly on the Orme estate. 
 
 Mr. Gandy wore as bland an expression as 
 on the day when my guardian had handed me 
 over to his keeping at the Black House. 
 
 ' Ah ! James, Rob ' thus Mr. Gandy. ' Here 
 are your rogues, gentlemen.' 
 
 Whereat the stout fellow in black rolled up 
 his eyes in a manner devout and displeasing. 
 ' Ah ! Robert, Robert,' he sighed, ' what would 
 your father and my friend have thought of 
 this ? Oh, this is a sad, sad story your preceptor 
 has been telling us ! ' 
 
 ' Had my father but known,' retorted Rob, 
 ' he'd have wondered as much as I that he should 
 ever have appointed such rogues as you and 
 your wife I take it she's your wife as 
 guardians to his son.' 
 
 ' Rob, ' protested Mr. Gandy mildly, ' my 
 dear lad ! ' 
 
 ' I fear,' said Eggleston, regretfully, ' you 
 have spared the rod, and ' 
 
 ' Gandy,' my guardian broke in roughly, 
 ' I've not the time to waste on folly of this 
 kind. This fellow, I take it, handed the boy 
 over to your care for a clear and definite purpose. 
 To be rid of him.' 
 
 ' Sir,' protested Eggleston, ' you do me a 
 very grave injustice.' 
 
 ' There's no need to make-believe with me ! ' 
 
 17
 
 258 The Black House 
 
 my guardian snarled. ' I know something of 
 the history. This fellow ' pointing his fat 
 fingers at me, and eyeing me malevolently 
 ' is a rogue and the son of a rogue.' 
 
 ' You lie ! ' I muttered, flinging back my 
 head. ' I am the son of Roger Corbe. You 
 know it ! That man John Corbe knows it ! ' 
 
 At which John Corbe flung himself back 
 in his chair and laughed contemptuously. ' These 
 pupils of yours, Gandy, do you credit ! ' he 
 sneered. 
 
 Mr. Pounds, now purple with rage, started 
 from his seat, and made round the table, as 
 if to fall on me with all his old vigour, but 
 Mr. Gandy, striking his hand violently upon the 
 table, cried in a high and strident voice, ' Sit 
 down, Pounds, and listen to me ! Hark to 
 ~ne, Corbe, hark you ! ' with a contemptuous 
 gesture to Eggleston, who, white and quivering 
 as a jelly, turned up his eyes, raised his hands 
 as if in prayer, and groaned. 
 
 Mr. Gandy was on his feet, a huge figure 
 yet, imperious still, dominating those weaker 
 rogues about him. ' There is no need/ he said, 
 ' for keeping up this folly of pretence. There 
 is no need to purport that I be other than I 
 am, or that you wear your several masks- 
 gentleman, respectable attorney, prosperous 
 merchant of John Company ! No need ! ' 
 
 ' I'll not sit here ! ' roared Corbe, lurching to 
 his feet. 
 
 ' Sit down, Corbe ! Sit down ! You stay and 
 listen to me, or this night Roger Corbe 's son 
 goes back to Roger Corbe 's widow ! ' And at
 
 Lure of Treasure 259 
 
 the menace of his tone John Corbe, who had 
 nigh reached the door, stood still, and at the 
 wave of Gandy's hand slunk back to his seat, 
 snarling like a beaten cur. 
 
 ' Roger Corbe 's son ! ' muttered Gandy, leaning 
 over the table, eyes burning, hands playing upon 
 the board. ' Heir to Corbe. And this other 
 lad, Robert Orme, whose patrimony, Eggleston, 
 you and your wife are dissipating. And you, 
 Pounds, who've taken Corbe 's pay these years 
 to keep Roger Corbe 's son from his inheritance. 
 Why there's enough in this, and this, to send 
 the three of you to Newgate ; ship you overseas 
 as felons ! Felons ! ' 
 
 ' Well for you, Gandy/ gasped John Corbe, 
 ' you who should have swung at Execution 
 Dock ! You pirate, murderer ! ' 
 
 ' At least you bark, John Corbe, ' cries Gandy , 
 ' while these curs whine and snarl. All this 
 I've been gentleman of fortune ! But if I 
 hang at your word, I know enough to gaol or 
 hang the three of you ! Yet wanting you, as you 
 have need of me. Now hark you, John Corbe ! 
 You had a tale from me at the a Black House of 
 treasure, treasure that lies in the galleon on 
 the isle north of New Holland ! Treasure of 
 gold and silver and many precious gems ! 
 Treasure I'd have as my last quest upon earth ! 
 I tell you, Corbe, and you, that I'm not for 
 dying in my bed ashore ; that the sins that 
 have been mine, and the desire that has been 
 mine from my youth up, are mine unto the 
 end of my days. I'm for the sea again 
 and the sea calls me as the Wanderer of old !
 
 260 The Black House 
 
 And this treasure, is it not worth the quest 
 of such a man as I am ? Is it not worth 
 the thought of covetous rogues as ye ? Gold ! 
 And precious cups of ruby, glass and gold- 
 gems, such as that rosary of pearls and gold 
 these young rogues stole from me ! Aye, and 
 they stole the chart that was drawn in blood ; 
 the chart, I take it, is in Mistress Corbe's 
 keeping a brave lady, a fair lady, worthier 
 of the Corbes than you, John Corbe ! Now, 
 hear me, I go sailing in this ship ! It is mine 
 for the buying from the fellow Banks ! Victualled 
 it soon shall be for a cruise it has as pretty 
 a crew of rogues as ever sailed with me ! Five 
 thousand guineas half from you, Pounds, 
 half from you, Eggleston ; and from you, 
 Corbe, having nothing, nothing ! ' 
 
 ' My dear sir ! ' Eggleston gasped. 
 
 ' Not a penny from me ! ' snarled Pounds. 
 
 ' And yet I think you'll pay,' Gandy went 
 on, mockery on his lips, his eyes burning. 
 ' Oh, yes, yes, yes, you'll pay ! Down to the 
 last penny piece ! I give you two days to have 
 the money here from London. Those two days 
 and no money, and Roger Corbe's son and 
 Robert Orme's son come unto their own, and 
 I go sailing to France. And you, gentlemen, 
 I leave you to conjecture what of you ! ' 
 
 Livid they glared at him, as he sped on. 
 
 ' Now for the bargain and the advantage to 
 you. This ship mine, and these lads go with 
 me overseas ! And they come not back again 
 to trouble your peace. I promise you, they 
 come not back ! But if I return, if ever I
 
 Lure of Treasure 261 
 
 return never, unless I set my fingers on the 
 treasure of the isle you shall be repaid to 
 the last piece, and a third of the value of this 
 freight that should have gone to the King 
 of Spain centuries ago. Gold and gems, 
 gentlemen, gold and gems, such a freight as 
 never an Indiaman bore to your company, 
 Eggleston, to this lad's company. And on an 
 isle that no man, save a dead man, has set 
 foot upon. On an island north of New Holland. 
 Thither goes the Sea Hawk, for, though the 
 chart is no longer mine, I tell you that I have 
 engraved it on the tablets of my mind, so 
 oft I've looked on, picturing that treasure, 
 drawn by it as by the lodestone ! Thither I 
 sail, whether you pay or no. And if ye pay, 
 the lads sail with me, and if you do not pay, 
 still I sail, and the lads stay in England ! 
 Your answer ! ' 
 
 They answered nothing. John Corbe sat 
 scowling, arms folded across his breast ; Pounds, 
 with shaking fingers, poured himself a dram ; 
 while Eggleston stared up to Heaven, his hands 
 clasped as if he besought Providence to intercede 
 for him. But Gandy dominated them, Gandy's 
 will compelled. I saw it on fat old Pounds' 
 congested face ; in Eggleston's feeble look and 
 dropping lip ; on John Corbe 's grinning mouth, 
 and in his shifty eyes. 
 
 ' I sail ! ' cried Mr. Gandy, with triumphant 
 laughter. ' I sail, and the lads sail with me ! '
 
 Chapter XXXVI The ' Sea Hawk ' Sails 
 
 SAFE hid from King's ship and King's 
 justice, we lay a week in the cove. And 
 all this time we passed, Rob and I, locked in 
 the cabin, or pacing the deck, under the ever- 
 watchful eyes of Mat, or at times fishing from 
 the side of the brig with the lines he wove for 
 us. A dreary time, I promise you, for the 
 thought of the scene in the cabin, between 
 Gandy and our enemies his undertaking to 
 them that we should never return ; their 
 ultimate acceptance of hir offer, and their 
 promise to pay into his hands L^.- five thousand 
 guineas for the buying off of Banks, master 
 of the ship. And I mourned, too, that having, 
 by a trick of destiny, come to my father's 
 home and met my mother, I was torn again 
 from her arms into the keeping of her enemies, 
 and that, though Sir Martin Ainley and she 
 sought the kingdom, end to end, she should 
 never know my fate. Now, Sir Martin, Mat 
 told us, had taken prisoners the crew of the 
 third boat, a half of the smugglers had fallen 
 to the fire of the muskets, and the remainder 
 were, by now, clapped in Newgate. But of 
 
 262
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' Sails 263 
 
 Erskine we saw nothing all this time, he was 
 very sick, Mat gave us to understand, and like 
 to die. 
 
 I promise you we sought escape. What 
 chance had we from the constant watching of 
 Gandy's rogues on the deck, or from the little 
 cabin, with the door locked fast upon us ? 
 Only pacing the deck we saw the stir and 
 bustle of provisioning the ship for Gandy's 
 mad voyage overseas fruit, vegetables, water, 
 and barrels of junk, salt fish, borne down to 
 the shore by lumbering waggons, and brought 
 off to the Sea Hawk by her crew. On the 
 third day Mr. Gandy was rowed ashore, with 
 Banks sitting glum and dour beside him ; 
 and Mr. Gandy remained away all that day, 
 returning at evening alone. And by his laughter, 
 and the wild mood that possessed him as he 
 lurched into the master's cabin, I understood, 
 as Mat scurried us below, that the precious 
 attorney, Pounds, and Eggleston, worthy 
 merchant, had paid their guineas into his 
 hands, and Banks had received his price, and 
 Mr. Gandy was once more the master of his 
 own ship. And, on the following day, he paid 
 off all of the smugglers' crew, who went ashore 
 uproarious, leaving to man the brig fellows 
 from Corbe, young fishermen for the most, 
 who, having turned smugglers, and for their 
 attack on the Manor, had put their necks 
 within reach of the hangman. With them, 
 then, old Ben as boatswain, Mat and the 
 seaman Bill, and the big fellow, Jonas Wall, 
 who had been landlord of The Gold Scales.
 
 264 The Black House 
 
 But there .came off a boat on the following day, 
 wherein sat three fellows a lank, dark rogue 
 of middle age, in the rig of a ship's officer, 
 a younger man, with sun and sea tanned face, 
 yellow curling hair, and sea-blue eyes, the 
 third none other than John Corbe, with a 
 variety of chests, as if he would make the 
 voyage with us. Before all this company, 
 assembled in Mr. Gandy 's cabin, we were 
 paraded, Rob and I, on the eve of our departure. 
 And the lank, dark fellow, we learnt, was Mr. 
 Ezra Oakes, first mate of the Sea Hawk, I 
 took it that he was some rogue with whom 
 Gandy had had dealings in the past ; the 
 younger fellow, who seemed ill-fitted for such 
 company, Mr. Richard Lester, the second mate. 
 And that he was not yet of their confidence 
 was borne out by Gandy's ordering him on 
 deck to take aboard the last of the stores, and 
 have all trim for our departure. 
 
 So they sat, the three of them, smoking 
 about the table, decanters of wine and brandy 
 and a dish of raisins before them ; John Corbe 
 looking pinched and ill at ease, Oakes dark 
 and saturnine, Mr. Gandy a very handsome 
 picture of a gentleman, with his fine, white 
 hands, his silver hair, his suit of nautical blue, 
 gold braided, and his starched linen. 
 
 ' I've sent for ye,' said Mr. Gandy, poking 
 his pipe at us, ' to have ye know there'll be 
 no idlers aboard my ship. Cabin boy, you,' 
 to me, ' cook's boy, you,' to Rob, ' with the 
 assurance of a rope's end well plied, if you're 
 idle. And knowing you for rogues, I have a
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' Sails 265 
 
 notion that the rope's end will curl about 
 ye both, ere the morrow's out.' 
 
 We answered him not a word, knowing our- 
 selves helpless at his hands, having agreed 
 between us to make the best of ill fortune, and, 
 if we had but the merest chance at any port 
 of call, to cut a dash for freedom. 
 
 ' You will treat my guest, Jim/ said Gandy, 
 ' my friend and guest, Mr. Corbe, with respect 
 and deference. You will be obedient to his 
 least wish or command. Kinsman of yours 
 he may be ' 
 
 ' Enough of that, Gandy/ Corbe broke in 
 angrily. 
 
 ' You will put that out of your mind, Jim/ 
 Gandy proceeded smoothly, ' understanding 
 that on your good behaviour depends your 
 treatment on the cruise. Whether I set you 
 aboard another ship, whether by all precedent 
 you be marooned on such an isle as this we seek/ 
 His hands spread out upon the table a chart, 
 which, I took it, reproduced from his recollec- 
 tion the convict's chart of the galleon's isle. 
 ' Now, of this American.' 
 
 ' My wish is, Gandy, that you set the dog 
 ashore/ muttered John Corbe. 
 
 ' To wed a very charming kinswoman of 
 yours/ purred Mr. Gandy. ' Or understanding 
 our purpose, to bring a King's ship sailing after 
 us. That would be wise, Corbe.' 
 
 ' There are means of stopping the dog's 
 barking/ his hand spilling his wine. 
 
 ' Nay, I have a fancy to carry the American 
 with me. He is a brave fellow, and if he be
 
 266 The Black House 
 
 an enemy, interest may make him our friend.' 
 
 ' With these boys and with the American, 
 Gardy, what's to be the end of this cruise ? ' 
 
 ' Mr. Corbe, when I sailed, I had no thought 
 for the end of the adventure. Pursuit of the 
 adventure was all to me. So in this hunt of 
 ours for the isle with the wrecked treasure-ship, 
 I care not for the treasure, or the spending of 
 the treasure, only for the search ! I have no 
 care whether I set foot again on English soil, 
 whether my bones lie fathoms deep, or bleach- 
 ing on the sands. I have no care ! ' 
 
 ' You're old, Gandy. I'm young, still. I 
 have a mind yet to enjoy.' 
 
 ' You have yet the choice of all Europe. 
 What's England to you ? Your share of 
 treasure, Corbe, will make you rich as all your 
 life you've plotted, planned to be. Are you rich 
 yet ? Have you ever had enough to lead the 
 life you would have led ? ' 
 
 ' But to be rich in England,' he muttered, 
 red wine spurting over his fingers like blood. 
 
 ' Tush, man ! I promise you that the Ameri- 
 can shall never trouble your enjoyment. This 
 I promise you, as I have promised you that 
 Roger Corbe's son here shall never come into 
 his patrimony. And can you choose, John Corbe ? ' 
 
 He answered nothing, but his look was 
 livid, and he swallowed down his wine, and 
 filling up his glass again, again spilled it on the 
 table. 
 
 Mr. Gandy set a little silver whistle to his 
 lips, and at his pipe came Mat, to whom Gandy 
 says, ' Bring Mr. Erskine here.'
 
 The ' Sea Hawk ' Sails 267 
 
 He came presently, leaning on the seaman's 
 arm. He was very thin and pale, his beard 
 was grown ; the wound upon his head seared 
 his scalp as a livid brand. At the sight of 
 him Rob and I could not repress our joy, but 
 caught his hands, and so beside him stood 
 facing the trio at the table. 
 
 ' A pretty promise this for the voyage/ 
 cries John Corbe savagely. ' Gandy, you carry 
 this fellow with you, and your plans for sure 
 miscarry. ' 
 
 ' Mr. Erskine/ says Gandy politely. ' I beg 
 that you'll sit down and join us in a glass of 
 wine. We have a matter we would discuss 
 with you.' 
 
 I had expected Erskine contemptuously to 
 refuse. But his limp hands dropped ours ; 
 with dragging footsteps he moved forward to 
 the table. He slipped then into a chair, and 
 with shaking fingers he took the glass of wine 
 Gandy poured for him. 
 
 ' Mat-/ orders Gandy, ' take these fellows, 
 and hold them under lock and key till the morn- 
 ing. And rig them out afresh, for their rags 
 are a -scandal to the ship's company/ 
 
 So we were hustled from the cabin by old 
 Mat. So were locked again below. And an 
 hour thence while we yet debated our fortunes, 
 the tramp of footsteps, the rattle of the chain, 
 told us that the crew weighed anchor, and that 
 under cover of the night the Sea Hawk would 
 slip away from the coast of England.
 
 Chapter XXXVII Overseas 
 
 NOW I hasten on with- my tale of the 
 sailing of the Sea Hawk overseas in 
 search of treasure on the isle north of New 
 Holland. And I do believe that not the credu- 
 lity of Mr. Gandy sent him overseas on a wild 
 adventure, not belief in the story of the con- 
 vict fugitive from His Majesty's penal settle- 
 ment at Botany Bay, not the sight of the 
 jewels the rogue might well have prigged in 
 London, but the tameless, tireless spirit that 
 was his, that drove him as the Wanderer of 
 old, or as the Dutchman overseas ever over- 
 seas. For although Mr. Gandy was old in 
 body, his spirit might not rest, I have a sense 
 now at this hour, when the storm beats with- 
 out, and goes on down to the tormented sea, 
 that his great voice shouts with the tempest, 
 and that his evil soul flies overseas with the 
 storm. That voice as a mighty trumpet in 
 the storm, such storm as smote us off the 
 English coast, such storm as we encountered 
 in the Bay of Biscay, such storm as drove us 
 from the coasts of Africa across the leagues of 
 ocean to New Holland. I mark him now 
 on a wild night a black cloud rolling up to 
 
 268
 
 Overseas 269 
 
 blot the tropic moon full-faced and having in 
 it both the colour of blood and the green of 
 the sea across its own pale gold the stars of 
 the same wild hues, the heaven above us an 
 immense vault lit by blue-green light the 
 great wave coming onwards. And over the 
 roar of wind and wave, commingling as the 
 storm bursts from the cloud, the voice yet domi- 
 nant, and the frame of Simon Gandy dominant 
 upon the reeling decks. The moon is lost, and 
 the stars quenched, and all is blackness, till 
 the lightning leaps in a jagged fork out of the 
 murk, and all sound ends in a pandemonium 
 of thunder, wind and sea. 
 
 Now I do believe that the villainies of the 
 Black House were no part of this man, that 
 his life ashore wasted itself in wrecking, 
 smuggling, torture of the pair of us, given over 
 to his care by those who would be rid of us. 
 That such a man was the old Flying Dutchman, 
 that such a man as this would fling defiance to 
 the face of heaven. For on this voyage of 
 the Sea Hawk overseas to the golden isle the 
 ten months of our sailing from the English 
 coast, the days we spent at the isle of St. Jago, 
 at Rio de Janeiro, and at the Cape of Good 
 Hope, to the end of our voyaging the man did 
 us no hurt. Nay, I was about him constantly 
 as his cabin boy, and took no more from him 
 than a cuff or a spank, were I lazy or lubberly 
 to his thinking ; indeed, his absolute authority 
 alone over his ship's company saved me from 
 the malice of John Corbe, or old Ben, scarred 
 horribly with the iron that I had planted in
 
 270 The Black House 
 
 his face that night at the Manor House. And 
 in time I came no longer to fear the execution 
 on us of his promise to the three rogues that 
 Rob and I should never return, believing 
 that he had made the promise only that he 
 might have the ship, and go on this treasure 
 quest across the seas, not caring for the event 
 but only for the adventure. For the most he 
 conducted himself as any master of an English 
 ship, giving himself wholly heart and mind 
 to the navigation of the brig and to the comfort 
 of his crew, and I tell you that with a liberal 
 allowance of grog, a sufficiency of fruit, of 
 which we took in great abundance at the ports 
 of call, the seamen fared fatly. And out of 
 these young fishermen he and his mates Oakes 
 and young Lester schooled as able a crew as 
 ever sailed under Candy's command. Rogues, 
 adventurers, sons of a race that had lived by 
 smuggling, wrecking on the wild coast of Corbe 
 all this ; yet dominated by Gandy and his 
 mates, and held by a rigid discipline, so that 
 not the poisonous influence of old Ben pre- 
 vailed. But save in drink old Ben had a very 
 direct adherence to Gandy, having sailed with 
 him upon the Tortoise, and though I heard him 
 muttering that times were not the old times, and 
 that the Sea Hawk should have had its holds 
 weighted by now with plundered freight, and that 
 the captain was not the man who had played 
 slaver, gentleman of fortune, pirate 'twixt the 
 Gold Coast and the Main put all with many 
 foul oaths in which the fellow had a proficiency 
 for the most he went about his duties steadily,
 
 Overseas 271 
 
 and with a skill that marked him a seaman 
 of no common parts. And from his talk over- 
 heard by chance, or from Mat's yarns in the 
 foc'sle head, I gained a pretty picture of Simon 
 Gandy, thirty and odd years back, when he 
 sailed the Tortoise, and the flag he flew was not 
 the flag of England. Once old Mat in confi- 
 dential mood inspired by grog had me down to 
 see his chest, and what it held. And out of 
 its sandalwood scented depths he drew a 
 tattered flag black it was, and sea-stained, 
 and it had on it the semblance of a skull and 
 cross-bones worked in tarnished silver thread. 
 
 'A wench in Limehouse stitched it/ he told 
 me. ' She was my fancy. She'd a skin white 
 as this bit of skull, and eyes as blue as the 
 Main. Dead she is. And wrecked is the old 
 Tortoise thirty and odd years. And I has 
 the blue Tortoise on my arm same as the Cap- 
 tain and Ben as was bo 'sun in 'er. And this 
 'ere's the flag she flew ! And this 'ere's the 
 flag the Sea Hawk would be flying if the Cap- 
 tain was 'alf the man he was. Young Jim, 
 old age is the worst sickness as ever a man 
 can 'ave. Yellow Jack and the scurvy don't 
 rot a man as old age rots ! And the fear of 
 wot the parson says lake of fire, an' worms 
 as eats into yer 'art ! ' 
 
 Once only all this while did Gandy have occa- 
 sion to discipline severely a fellow of his crew, 
 who cursed in answer to Oakes' cursing, and 
 when the mate struck him to the deck, drew a 
 knife, and swore to cut his life out. Mr. Gandy's 
 blow stretched him senseless ; he lay in irons
 
 272 The Black House 
 
 that night ; and on the following morn all 
 hands were piped on deck for his flogging. I 
 mark the horror of it now the reddening cat, 
 the fellow's bloody back, and old Ben mutter- 
 ing to Mat, ' The Captin's still the Captin ! 
 Like old times it is/ 
 
 Quartered still in the little cabin, Rob and I 
 of a night would plan escape at the next port 
 we put into, but all the while we lay at St. 
 Jago, or at Rio de Janeiro or at the Cape, the 
 vigilance of Gandy over us was constant. 
 
 For the most we were locked in our cabin, 
 or if we came on deck, were watched by Mat 
 and the seamen, and, though Gandy and Corbe 
 might go ashore, we were not allowed to leave 
 the ship. So, too, Erskine, who had been our 
 friend, and now seemed wholly Gandy 's, through 
 the lure of the treasure, was held aboard. But 
 from the first days out, when we had got our sea 
 legs, and staggered feebly up to the deck, we 
 had no speech with Erskine alone. It seemed 
 that he had thrown in his lot with Gandy and 
 John Corbe from that night in the cabin. 
 He would pass long hours with the pair poring 
 over charts by which Gandy shaped his course, 
 or pacing the deck in converse with him. 
 
 So overseas sailed we on a fair voyage broken 
 only by brief storm and brief calm. Storm 
 with the heavens and the seas commingling in 
 horrible, darkness, rent by the . white bolts of 
 lightning. Calm with the waters like the sur- 
 face of a vast refining vat, copper-green and 
 copper-blue smeared with gold, the sun as a 
 furnace fire, the sails of the Sea Hawk with-
 
 Overseas 273 
 
 out life or movement, the pitch bubbling from 
 the planks of the deck, the seamen lounging 
 stark in the shade, the sea and the sky blood- 
 red at eve, and purple till, when the night fell 
 as a pall, the moon floated on the waters, Hke 
 a dead man's face floated from sea to sky ; 
 and the stars were the same deathly hue as 
 the moon. So with the sweet breeze coming 
 singing over the waters the Sea Hawk took 
 wing. 
 
 Rob and I grew bronzed with sun and wind 
 and spray, lithe and active of body, confident 
 enough to take our turn aloft, liking the life 
 at sea, and at last ceasing utterly to dread 
 the end of this voyage to the isle north of 
 New Holland marooning murder, whatsoever 
 should be Mr. Gandy's fulfilment of his promise 
 to the three rogues, with whom he had bar- 
 gained for his ship. Now from his navigation 
 of the Sea Hawk Mr. Gandy found yet the 
 leisure in fine weather to school us for an hour 
 each morning to his cabin he had brought 
 with him from the Black House a little library 
 of books, old poets, old romances, and old 
 writers of stage plays. So, while my body 
 grew, my mind was schooled by his teaching, 
 and all these books, read and re-read from 
 splendid Shakespeare to stout old Tobias 
 Smollett. For Mr. Gandy's tolerant kindness 
 to us, for the care he spent in our tuition, as if 
 we had been, indeed, his scholars at the Black 
 House, and all the evil he had wrought us 
 since had gone for nothing, I did believe that 
 he had never purposed fulfilment of his pledge 
 
 18
 
 274 The Black House 
 
 to the three rogues. But I believed, too, 
 that feeling his age upon him, and recall- 
 ing his seizure in the cave, he hoped to strike 
 a Bargain with Heaven, having to his final 
 account his care of us against the black record 
 of his sinning. All the while throughout the 
 voyage he made no hypocritical pretence of 
 religious practice ; though once on coming 
 suddenly into his cabin I found him reading 
 closely the Gospels of Christ from an old Bible, 
 black-covered and clasped with tarnished sil- 
 ver. And in his eyes was a look of terror, and 
 on his brow sweat, as if the voice of God thun- 
 dered in his ears. The man grew old ; and 
 the man understood that his days drew to an 
 end. The man bargained us for the salvation 
 of his soul. Aye, he grew very old, for though 
 sun and sea spray bronzed his skin, his face 
 was deeply lined with age ; his lips twitched 
 curiously ; his beard, if the storm prevented 
 his shaving his chin, was snow-white. He was 
 becoming bent, his great body was shrinking 
 away. He feared the Hand of God, and the 
 punishment that death meant for him. 
 
 Overseas, month on month ! Overseas, rac- 
 ing before the wind, on leaving the Cape of 
 Good Hope borne many leagues before the 
 storm. And nigh ten months had passed ere 
 to the south we made out faint in sea haze 
 the rocky outlines of a distant shore. It was at 
 evening, and the night dropping black from the 
 heaven shut the sight from our curious gaze. 
 And a great wind getting up in the night blew 
 us from shore the coast of New Holland, Mr.
 
 Overseas 275 
 
 Gandy declared it, though he was sailing his 
 ship in waters strange to him and on the morrow 
 there was naught about us only save the great 
 waves rolling mountainous, grey-green for the 
 dullness of the overcast heaven, that presently 
 burst in fire and teeming rain. And the racing 
 storm bore us many leagues out of our course. 
 
 Now, it was the night of 6th October, when, 
 being ten months out from the English coast, 
 the Sea Hawk came to her end. A wild night 
 in the cabin I heard the wind scream and menace 
 over the brig like a fiend about to destroy 
 her, and fling us all to drown, and I had seen 
 the weird blue lights play like corpse candles 
 round about the masts and spars, and had 
 listened to old Ben muttering fearfully to Mat, 
 that there 'd be wild work at sea that night, and 
 that the lights foretold the death of every man 
 of us. 
 
 The hours through, Gandy never left the deck ; 
 the hours through, Mat and Bill held the wheel. 
 And in the cabin, as if to keep his courage up, 
 John Corbe sat at his drink, and with him 
 Erskine. Once when clinging to rope and rail 
 I forced my way thither, I found the pair of 
 them at cards. John Corbe was riotous, 
 Erskine pale and composed, and dealing the 
 cards with a firm hand, seeming absorbed in 
 the game for all the roar of wind and sea with- 
 out, and in a chance lull Gandy 's voice sounding 
 trumpet-like. I had brought them a fresh 
 bottle of Madeira, and set it in John Corbe 's 
 hand, lest with the rolling of the ship it smash 
 on the floor. Wildly he stared at me, and
 
 276 The Black House 
 
 recognizing me, muttered an oath, and cracked 
 the neck from the bottle and filled his glass. I 
 went out then, and drenched with the sea, and 
 once nigh washed from the deck by a great 
 wave, forced my way unheeded down into the 
 cabin. Rob was there in the dark clinging to 
 his bunk, and shivering and chill the pair of 
 us sat there with the blankets about us, hearken- 
 ing to the wild turmoil of the storm the thun- 
 derous fall of waters on the deck, sick for the 
 dread of drowning, sick for the rolling of 
 the brig. And though we sought to speak of 
 what was passing and to tell our terrors, the 
 great sound drowned our voices, and presently 
 we lay back in the bunk. 
 
 I slept for weariness of the long night and the 
 darkness. I slept to wake at a terrific crash 
 and a rending of timbers. The shock flung the 
 pair of us on to the cabin floor, and our cries 
 of terror mingled with the wail that went to 
 heaven. But the Sea Hawk ceased to roll, 
 and she was held firm and fast, only the waves 
 broke over her as with the beating of a mighty 
 drum. 
 
 ' She's struck/ yelled I, clinging to Rob. 
 ' On deck ! ' 
 
 The cabin door was shut fast for the shock, 
 and the crushing of the timbers of the brig, 
 groaning now as with a mortal hurt, at every 
 wave that leaped upon her to beat the life 
 from out her. Aye, and though we tugged at 
 the door, though we sought to smash it in with 
 our puny fists, it held it held. We were 
 caught to drown as rats, we were caught to
 
 Overseas 277 
 
 drown and we screamed out wildly to Mat, 
 to Gandy, to Erskine no reply ! No answer 
 save the thundering of the waters tumbling 
 upon the Sea Hawk no answer save the 
 groaning of the timbers, as if they parted. We 
 made our way then to the port-hole it was 
 shattered and the glass had fallen in. Against 
 it without was piled a stack of fallen timber, 
 as if the masts had gone down against it, and 
 lay in an impenetrable tangle of wreckage to 
 shut us in to drown. But though the seas 
 broke without cease upon the wreck no water 
 leaked yet into the cabin, and by the slant of 
 its decking it seemed that the brig, like the 
 galleon of the isle we had sought, had broken 
 against a reef, and was held in its jaws till the 
 great waves should smash it to matchwood. 
 Pounding again upon the door, and crying out 
 till we tired, and bringing no one, it seemed to 
 us that between one roller and the next Gandy 's 
 voice sounded above us like a trumpet from 
 afar.
 
 Chapter XXXVIII The Reef 
 
 IN black darkness death without we passed, 
 it must have been five hours, though they 
 dragged to an interminable length. All the 
 while no one came nigh us. All the while the 
 waves thundered upon the wreck, and the tim- 
 bers groaned in anguish. And shouting to be 
 heard by one another for the turmoil, we were 
 conjecturing hour on hour what had chanced 
 to Gaady and his crew when the brig struck 
 whether the waves had washed them from the 
 decks and the wild cry that had gone up from 
 the sea told of their passing. Only the recol- 
 lection of the sound of Candy's voice after that 
 cry gave us to believe that he and others of the 
 ship's company had outlived the brig's de- 
 struction, that they had either put off in the 
 boats, or been washed away later by the waves. 
 Now, shut up in this death-trap we did be- 
 lieve at last that the waves were abating in 
 force, for though the shock of their falling 
 reached us, still it seemed to us that the weight 
 was less, and that the quivering and groaning 
 of the wreckage lessened. At intervals still 
 we beat upon the door ; at intervals tried our 
 whole strength upon it, but yet it held securely. 
 
 278
 
 The Reef 279 
 
 Until our vigil ended. Until from without 
 a hoarse voice growled at us. ' Are ye alive ? ' 
 Ben's voice, whereat for his hate of me, I felt a 
 chill go down my back. 
 
 ' Aye, we're shut here. The door's caught 
 fast. Will you break it down ? ' 
 
 ' Ye 're there, are ye ? I've half a mind ' 
 
 and the voice broke off. 
 
 But he had gone away, it seemed, to fetch 
 an axe, for presently a crash of splintering 
 wood told us that he was hewing down the door, 
 And in a few minutes he had it smashed asun- 
 derj and we were struggling through in the 
 darkness. 
 
 ' Ben, what's happened ? ' gasped Rob. ' Are 
 all the rest drowned ? ' 
 
 ' Aye, drowned ! Captin and all the rest 
 drowned, every man jack of 'em ! Him, as a 
 rope wouldn't hang, or Davy Jones drown. 
 Come out o' this ! ' 
 
 Through the darkness then we struggled into 
 the light of the companion-way. The gleam of 
 light blinded our eyes. Spume of the sea blew 
 down upon us. But presently we were out into 
 the light of day and gazing aghast at the 
 wreck of the Sea Hawk. She had been borne 
 forward in a tremendous wave, and flung down 
 upon a reef. She had been broken amidships, 
 and the masts had crashed down. And the 
 great waves, leaving but the stern held fast be- 
 tween two lines of reef, had swept the remainder 
 of the broken hull into the deep water beyond 
 the reef, where it had shot down instantly. So 
 much old Ben told us, while we clung by the
 
 280 The Black House 
 
 remnant of the rail at the companion-way. 
 The sun was aflame about us in a heaven of 
 dazzling blue ; blue and white-capped was the 
 ocean save only about a quarter-mile to the 
 north-east a yellow rock went high above the 
 waters. The wreckage of masts and spars lay 
 piled against the side of the brig to windward. 
 Wreckage of spars and broken boats, and shat- 
 tered planks and barrels floated upon the waters. 
 No sign of any survivor from the wreck saw we 
 on the long yellow reefs ; no sign of boat 
 upon the sea, though old Ben shouting to be 
 heard above the tumbling breakers gave us to 
 understand that Gandy and Corbe and the 
 American and several of his shipmates had 
 put off in a boat not hearing him when 
 he. yelled to them from the broken stern of the 
 ship, such was the sounding of the waves 
 that his voice was lost. And roundly old Ben 
 cursed them, clinging with us to the rail with 
 the spume flung upon us from the sea. 
 
 ' What now, Ben ? ' roared Rob in his ear. 
 ' We'll drown if we stay here/ 
 
 ' Aye, aye,' he growled back. ' What now ? 
 And ye 're like to drown. An' what's it to old 
 Ben, anyway ? Born with a caul, 'e was, an' 
 can't drown.' And drew a bottle of grog from 
 his pocket and took a swig. ' What's it to 
 Ben ? Didn't drown on the Tortoise, 'e didn't. 
 Aye, an' what matters ? ' and pulled again at 
 the bottle. 
 
 Now, clinging still to the rail, I saw that Ben 
 had stuck in the leather belt about his middle 
 a long knife in a sheath. And all the while he
 
 The Reef 281 
 
 drank his evil eye watched me. And for the 
 recollection of his threats of vengeance on me 
 for burning his cheek with the iron, and for his 
 hate of me, I found a new terror beyond the 
 rollers thundering upon the reef and wreck. 
 
 Roller on roller in the wild race to the reef 
 sometimes a great wave would commingle with 
 a breaking wave, and gaining volume plunge 
 with terrific force upon the deck, and the wash 
 nigh sweep us from our hold. Drenched now 
 to the skin we clung there desperately for the 
 while, scanning the reefs and sea for any hope 
 of escape or sign of survivors. And, indeed, it 
 seemed that the rollers were gaining in force, as 
 if strengthened by the brief respite of the dawn ; 
 the shred of the Sea Hawk caught in two reefs 
 seemed breaking up fast. Between that yellow 
 fang to the north-east lines of reef appeared, 
 some low, some high and dry and glistening 
 with salt and piled with litter of the wreck, 
 on one I did believe I made out the body of a 
 drowned man left stark in the sun. But on the 
 yellow fangs our hopes were centred ; that 
 maybe the boat might have found there a land- 
 ing-place, or that by a rough raft of broken 
 planks, we might make our way thither to 
 safety for the time. All the while Ben was 
 swallowing down his grog muttering now 
 drunkenly to himself, at times scowling at me 
 once fingering the haft of the knife stuck in 
 his belt, thinking better of it, it seemed, and 
 dragging out a fresh bottle from his pocket. 
 All the while the rollers were gaining in 
 force.
 
 282 The Black House 
 
 Then I saw that Ben had plucked out the 
 knife, and was sliding down towards me. 
 
 And suddenly thunderous the waters plunged 
 upon the remnant of the brig. The shock 
 flung me nigh stunned from my hold ; swept 
 me forward out. Under I went into the caul- 
 dron of waters, was carried on drowning, was 
 dropped momentarily on a projecting rock, 
 sought to cling to it, but was again swept for- 
 ward. I could not swim. In Mr. Pounds' 
 household I had learnt no manly sport or accom- 
 plishment. Over me drummed the waters ; 
 the salt was in my mouth my lungs ; I was 
 choking, drowning ! Again I struck a rock, and 
 was left there breathless. I sought to dig 
 -my hands into its cracks to hold there against 
 the next wave mercifully the next wave 
 was lighter ; and the horror of drowning pos- 
 sessed me with a wild strength ; though the 
 waves nigh beat the life out of my body lying 
 supine, I was not swept forward. And as the 
 waters receded and the rock emerged momen- 
 tarily, I heard Rob's scream in my ear: ' Jim, 
 Jim up for your life ! ' And his hand had 
 caught mine and I was on my feet, and we were 
 racing blindly forward. At our backs the roller 
 came with an angered roar ; ere it reached us 
 we were down again and clinging to the corru- 
 gated surface of the rock. It broke upon us, 
 passed, left us still clinging, and again we 
 were on our feet and splashing to the higher 
 reef that showed before us. And climbing 
 up though the ensuing roller nigh tore us 
 back up to a terrace clear for the time from
 
 The Reef 283 
 
 the sea and glistening with salt and littered 
 with driftwood. It was the rock whereon I 
 had seen the body lie stark in the sun. 
 
 Exhausted now we fell, and lay breathless 
 and gasping. And the sound of the waters 
 drummed in my ears still ; and my heart 
 pounded in my breast for breathlessness and 
 terror ; and the salt water in my throat was 
 choking me, till I was deathly sick. Scarce 
 conscious, there I lay till the burning sun gave 
 warmth to my body, and lent new life to 
 me. I found then that I was lying with Rob's 
 arm about me, and that he sought with the sleeve 
 of his sodden jacket to wipe the salt from my 
 lips. 
 
 'Safe ! ' I gasped. ' Yet safe !' 
 
 ' Aye, safe/ he muttered, ' till the tide rises 
 and the sharks get us.' 
 
 ' Where's Ben ? ' 
 
 ' Look ! ' He drew me up. And with smart- 
 ing, salt-bleared eyes I made out dimly in the 
 deep pool between the reef whereon the Sea 
 Hawk had come to her death and the reefs 
 whereon we had first been flung by the great 
 wave, a swirl in the waters black fins, white 
 bellies about some shape some body ! And 
 ere the roller swept over the last shred of the 
 wreck and plunged into the pool, I saw that 
 the waters were red as with blood. Sick for 
 the horror of it, I slid from Rob's arm upon the 
 rock. And oddly in my brain sounded Ben's 
 words, while he fingered his knife and glared at 
 me, ' What's it to old Ben ? Born with a 
 caul, 'e was, an' can't drown/
 
 Chapter XXXIX Rising Tide 
 
 FOR the terror of Ben's death, for our ex- 
 haustion from our battering by the waves, 
 and from our long vigil, we lay sick and weak 
 upon the rock without count of time. Sense 
 of the burning sun and consuming thirst aroused 
 me at last, and feebly I got to my feet and roused 
 Rob, who was lying so still that at first I thought 
 him dead. 
 
 ' Rob,' muttered I, ' we can't lie here. The 
 tide 11 rise, and the sea will wash us off. To 
 die as Ben died ! And I parch with thirst.' 
 
 'I'm on fire/ he answered. ' Let's seek 
 among the stuff that's flung up here ; there may 
 be a barrel of water, else we die.' 
 
 Now the rock was littered about with a med- 
 ley of broken driftwood and torn weed. No 
 other body than that I had seen from the wreck 
 lying on the rock one of the Corbe folk, 
 lying stiff with the salt glistening on the grey 
 face and lather at the parted lips, smiling up 
 to the dazzling sky in ghastly mockery. Shud- 
 dering, we drew a shred of sacking over the face, 
 and made our way along the reef in search of a 
 chance barrel of water. And mercifully we 
 found a little keg it had been half- empty and 
 
 284
 
 Rising Tide 285 
 
 had floated in with the seas and we stove in 
 the head with a broken oar, and cupping our 
 hands and finding the water yet sweet we 
 drank deeply. I tell you the draught lent new 
 life to me hope, courage, Aye, and recollec- 
 tion that I was very hungry, for morn was well 
 advanced, and I had tasted nothing since the 
 previous day. Among the litter on the rock 
 was much biscuit, broken and brine-sodden, 
 and gathering this in handfuls we swallowed 
 it down, and from the salt in it must needs 
 drink deeply again from the beaker. 
 
 ' We must save the rest, Rob/ said I, ' for 
 we'll be dying of thirst ere the day's out/ 
 
 ' When the tide rises/ he answered gloomily, 
 regarding the pool between us and the ruin of 
 the Sea Hawk. ' It won't matter. We won't 
 die of thirst, Jim.' 
 
 ' By then/ said I, ' we'll have a raft that 
 may carry us to that rock over there. There 
 are spars and rope enough and to spare, Rob. 
 We'll get to work now. And maybe Gandy and 
 Erskine are safe on the rock. It seems of some 
 size/ 
 
 The great rock went up clear now in the 
 sunlight a yellow rock with the seas breaking 
 at its base and rolling up against it in showers 
 of spray. But I believed that at the summit 
 I could make out a line of dull green as if of 
 brushwood or grass. Aye, and I believed that 
 I saw moving there the figure of a man. 
 
 ' Rob/ cried I, ' there's some one on the 
 rock. Look ! Can you make out ? Wave ! ' 
 
 We sent our cry echoing over the waters. I
 
 286 The Black House 
 
 looked about for a garment or a sip of sail to 
 wave to the figure; finding none save the 
 shred of canvas on the dead man's face, I 
 whipped off my shirt, drying upon my body, 
 and while we both shouted our loudest I waved 
 the garment wildly, and saw the figure sud- 
 denly lean forward and signal with his hand to 
 us. But if he shouted to us from the cliff the 
 distance and the thunder of the seas held the 
 sound from us. 
 
 ' Who is it, Rob, d'ye think ? ' asked I. ' Can 
 you make out ? ' 
 
 ' Erskine it looks like Erskine. Erskine, 
 who's Gandy's friend, not ours, and cared not 
 a jot for us last night whether we died like 
 rats in a trap.' 
 
 ' Aye,' I muttered savagely. ' He thought 
 only to save himself unless Ben lied. But 
 will they come to us, d'ye think ? ' 
 
 ' Unless their boat were piled up on the rock 
 last night. Or unless Gandy forbids. There 
 are others, see ! ' 
 
 Several figures now shaped on the brow of the 
 distant cliff. Straining my eyes I could make 
 out colours and the glint of the sun on buttons 
 or gold braid. Gandy, by the figure's height, 
 and by the blue and gold 'twas Gandy, and with 
 him one who seemed to be John Corbe ; another 
 who might be Mat ; yet another big and bearded 
 as the landlord of The Gold Scales, and one whom 
 in the distance I could not make out, but took 
 to be one of the young fishermen of Corbe. I 
 waved my shirt ; they waved back, and pre- 
 sently they kindled a fire among the brush on
 
 Rising Tide 287 
 
 the brow of the cliff, for a curl of smoke went 
 up into the air. And slipping off our drenched 
 garments then and spreading them out to 
 dry, we sat naked awaiting their coming, at 
 times splashing on our bodies the water from 
 the pools left by the sea, for the blazing sun 
 burnt our flesh. But though we waited an 
 hour or more, hoping that they would put off 
 in their boat and come to us, they did not 
 appear ; only one man held to the brow of the 
 cliff and signalled to us at times, all the while 
 keeping up the fire. So till the sun stood at 
 its height ; so till it commenced to descend 
 the western heaven, the rollers broke upon the 
 reefs in white foam, slowly smashing away the 
 last of the Sea Hawk's hull, and plunging 
 into the deep blue pool between us and the 
 wreck. Aye, and the sharks fought at a horrible 
 banquet in the waters about us. 
 
 ' If we stay here, Rob/ cried I at last, leap- 
 ing to my feet, ' well be washed off the rock. 
 Into your duds, man, and help me build a raft. 
 It may float us to the island.' 
 
 Struggling then into our garments, dry, but 
 hard with salt and chafing our sunburnt flesh, 
 we set ourselves to shaping the sorriest craft 
 that ever floated on the seas. We lashed four 
 big spars into a 'square, finding a sufficiency 
 of rope washed up with the driftwood ; to 
 this we bound lighter spars ; so formed at last 
 a lumbersome lattice which it seemed might 
 bear us from the rock. But it was at best 
 only a ramshackle affair, and I did believe, 
 though it might hold us from the sharks for
 
 288 The Black House 
 
 the while, it would inevitably founder in deeper 
 water. To it we lashed our keg with the last 
 of the fresh water, and finding a pair of sound 
 oars by which we might guide its course, our 
 task completed, we ate a little of the salted bis- 
 cuit, and lay down on the raft to wait the rising 
 of the tide. For the heat of the sun, fiery 
 brass in a cobalt sky, and for our weariness, 
 we slept, the pair of us, the afternoon through. 
 
 I was awakened suddenly by the splash of 
 water in my face. I woke to find the sea blood- 
 red and the sun as an immense blood-red bal- 
 loon falling in the west. And the tide was run- 
 ning high, the reefs were vanishing under 
 the flood w save only the highest rock whereon 
 our raft yet rested. In long low surge the 
 rollers came, the roaring of the seas upon the 
 reefs was endless menacing the thought of 
 Ben's grim passing in the pool possessed me 
 with a deathly sickness. I started up and 
 gripped my oar, and screamed to Rob, ' Up, 
 for your life. Well be washed off ! ' 
 
 He was upon his feet on the instant, seizing 
 his oar blindly ; crouching low then, the pair 
 of us to await the coming of the wave that 
 should bear us out to sea. I cried to Heaven then 
 to help us and the breakers roared in answer. 
 
 It came ! Came with a sudden roll of sea and 
 beat of sound. In the sun's last light I saw the 
 great green curve of water plunging down 
 upon us. And we were flung forward, losing 
 our grip of the oars and clinging to the spars 
 lashed to our raft. So with the water break- 
 ing over us we floated out from the reef.
 
 Chapter XL The Yellow Fang 
 
 MY prayer to Heaven was assuredly 
 answered. Else had the lumbering 
 raft whereon we floated through the darkness 
 foundered under us, and we been drowned in 
 the seas or torn by the sharks. But, clinging 
 to it, we were borne on by the great wave, and 
 though the seas broke over us still though 
 once we struck against a reef with a great 
 crash and grinding of timbers, the stout ropes 
 held and on we swept not daring, either of 
 us, to shift from our frantic grip upon the 
 planks. 
 
 Aye, on we swept not now in the wash of 
 the wave, but caught in a current, as it seemed, 
 and all the while gathering speed and force, 
 as if we were being sucked into a mill-race. 
 Over us broke the waters, drenching us ; such 
 was the sound, like the constant beat of great 
 drums, or distant thunder, or the roll of cannon 
 fire afar, that, though my head was close to 
 Rob's, and though from time to time he shouted 
 in my ear, I could make out no word of his 
 or understand. Maybe my senses were dull 
 with terror indeed, I recollect only at this 
 
 289 19
 
 290 The Black House 
 
 hour a horror of great darkness and a horror 
 of sound. 
 
 On, sweeping forward with the rush of 
 water. On, clinging to the planking, nigh 
 drowned ; the salt in my mouth, my nostrils- 
 drenched, chilled, stiff with cold. On, for an 
 eternity. Time only seeming to stand still- 
 all else a rush of waters and a sense of great 
 speed. On into nothing ! 
 
 I think I lost consciousness then from terror 
 and exposure. I can recall nothing till came 
 the end. I had a sudden sense of a great crash, 
 as. the crack of doom. I had a sense that some 
 mystic force snatched the planks from my 
 frozen grip ; that I was swept forward with 
 the seas. Then nothing. . . . 
 
 I woke gasping, deathly sick, nigh blind with 
 salt. I had a sense that some one rubbed my 
 limbs and body that Erskine 's voice was in 
 my ears. Ay, 'twas Erskine, whose face I 
 looked upon, when my eyes cleared Erskine 
 in the red light of a fire built high. I lay stark 
 before the fire they had stripped my drenched 
 rags from my body ; and laid me out on a 
 blanket and a bed of brush. Erskine was 
 holding brandy in a cup to my lips, bidding 
 me drink it. And there was in my brain the 
 roaring of great waters. I gulped a little of 
 the spirit down and felt it run through my 
 veins like fire. And the draught lending me 
 strength, I sat up stiffly, feeling sharp pains 
 dart through my battered body ; and I muttered, 
 ' Rob what of him ? ' 
 
 'He's safe, lad,' Erskine answered. 'Rest
 
 The Yellow Fang 291 
 
 awhile/ And held the cup again to my mouth. 
 Again I drank, and instantly, for the strength 
 of the brandy and for my weakness, I fell 
 back to sleep. 
 
 I did not wake till the sun was high- 
 burning my face. I was wrapped still in the 
 blanket on the couch of brush. Weak and 
 worn yet, I lay there awhile, scarcely realizing 
 what had passed dully regarding the curl of 
 smoke from the fire and the figures grouped 
 about it. Erskine, with his back towards me ; 
 John Corbe, black-chinned and sun-burnt, folded 
 in a boat cloak ; Jonas Wall, big and bearded ; 
 Mat ; and a swart, thick-set young fellow of 
 the Corbe folk, named Treloar. And by my 
 side, wrapped in his blanket, lay Rob Orme, 
 snoring still, though the sun told that morn 
 was well advanced. But of Mr. Gandy I saw 
 nothing for the time. 
 
 Now the group lounging about the fire were 
 breakfasting, for a most savoury smell of frying 
 salt pork was wafted to me by the sea wind, 
 and recalled to me that I had eaten nothing 
 save sodden biscuit for two days thence. So 
 I wrapped my blanket about me and staggered 
 over to the fire. 
 
 ' Aha, Jim ! ' Erskine greeted me cheerily, 
 starting up. ' So you're alive after all. And 
 I take it most infernally hungry/ 
 
 ' Nigh starving/ I told him. ' But I'm seeking 
 my clothes first/ 
 
 Save Erskine, no man gave me word, but 
 all glowered blackly at me. Erskine pointed 
 to my rags drying in the sun. ' I thought
 
 292 The Black House 
 
 when we pulled you out of the sea last night 
 they'd be your grave clothes/ he said. ' But 
 for the full moon, and Mat here seeing your 
 raft washing in, you'd have drowned. You 
 struck on the reef out there,' pointing down 
 to a yellow line of rock washed by the sea 
 below us. 
 
 Now the camp was pitched on a broad terrace 
 of rock, descending like a flight of steps into 
 the water. The storm had passed utterly- 
 only the rollers swept from the sapphire sea 
 over the reefs, going out, reef beyond reef, 
 to the yellow rock where we had passed the 
 previous day, a quarter of a mile out. But 
 the wreck had broken utterly, only on the 
 lowest terrace was piled a great litter of drift- 
 wood and broken barrels, and, drawn up well 
 beyond reach of the waves, the boat wherein 
 they had put off from the Sea Hawk. And 
 at the sight of it a wave of savage anger surged 
 through me against Erskine, who would have 
 left us on the wreck to drown ; and even when 
 they had espied us on the rock had made no 
 effort to rescue us. Blackly I scowled at him, 
 and, instantly reading my thought, he motioned 
 me apart from the rest and muttered, ' Don't 
 blame me unjustly, Jim ! I was washed away 
 when the ship struck flung up on this 
 place.' 
 
 ' Ben, whom the sharks tore yesterday,' I 
 answered, ' told us that you put off in the boat 
 with Gandy, not caring whether we drowned, 
 so long as you lived.' 
 
 He answered angrily, with the blood mounting
 
 The Yellow Fang 293 
 
 to his face. ' The fellow lied ! I ask you to 
 believe me, Jim/ 
 
 ' If I believed that,' said I, ' you did not try 
 to help us yesterday, though you had the 
 boat there/ 
 
 ' Stove in, and leaking like a sieve/ 
 
 ' Yet you could have tried/ I faltered. 
 
 ' Yet I could have tried. I tell you, Jim, 
 I sought to swim out to you when we could 
 not launch the boat or when ' dropping his 
 voice ' Corbe and that fellow would not. And 
 I could not for the sharks. Look for yourself/ 
 with a sweep of his hand towards the waters 
 where yet the black fins showed. ' All day I 
 toiled at repairing the boat all day when not 
 one of these fellows would move a hand, bidding 
 me let you drown. I would have put off alone, 
 Jim, with the night, when the boat was 
 seaworthy again, save that the fellow Mat 
 marked your raft caught by the current and 
 driving in. Twas I, at least, who snatched 
 you from drowning/ 
 
 I said no more, but nodding dully took up 
 my garments and turned back to Rob, now 
 sitting up blinking in the sunlight. 
 
 Old Mat, filling his pipe, was glowering at 
 us. A most evil portrait he presented, his 
 head swathed in a bandana handkerchief, his 
 brown face mottled with purple bruises, a 
 scrub of black and grey beard upon his chin, 
 his garments stained with salt and seaweed. 
 And says Mat, ' D'ye plan mutiny on the high 
 seas ? What's your palaver ? What I says is, 
 if it's for us to hear, let's hear it/
 
 294 The Black House 
 
 Erskine, laughing carelessly, though his eyes 
 showed an angry light, answered back, ' It's 
 not mutiny, Mat. It's why these lads were 
 left aboard and not brought off when the boat 
 got away/ 
 
 ' There's better shipmates than them,' growled 
 Mat, ' down in Davy Jones's locker, or in the 
 sharks' guts. There's Ben he was a proper 
 man, he was. Him as come off with me from 
 the old Tortoise, and him to feed the sharks. 
 And these young swabs as be ashore, as bold 
 as you please ' Mat spat disgustedly into the 
 fire. 
 
 ' Get into your breeches, Jim,' says Erskine, 
 and come and get some food. ' Mr. Corbe, a 
 word with you.' 
 
 John Corbe, who had been sitting silent and 
 dejected, rose without a glance at me, and drew 
 apart with Erskine, while the seamen remained 
 smoking by the fire, muttering among them- 
 selves. I grabbed our duds from the rock and 
 made over to Rob, and, dropping the garments, 
 gripped his hand. 
 
 'Rob,' cried I, 'it's brave to see you safe. 
 It's brave ! ' 
 
 ' We're surely born to be hanged, as Gandy 
 used to say at the Black House,' he answered, 
 grinning at me. ' The seas can't drown us. 
 Where is Gandy ? ' 
 
 ' I haven't seen him,' I answered, drawing 
 my shirt over my head. ' I haven't asked 
 Erskine. Up on the cliff, I take it.' 
 
 ' It was he we saw. He's not drowned.' 
 
 ' Ay, it was he we saw. What's to pass now,
 
 The Yellow Fang 295 
 
 Rob ? I think but for Erskine we'd not be 
 living now, if John Corbe and old Mat had 
 had their will. Mat's grumbling that we should 
 be alive, and his shipmate Ben dead ! And 
 Wall and Treloar are of a like mind.' So I 
 rapidly recounted Erskine 's story as we got 
 into our clothes all the while Erskine and 
 Corbe conversed apart, and the group muttered 
 about the fire, and at times glanced furtively 
 at us. 
 
 ' What are they plotting, Jim ? ' Rob whis- 
 pered. 
 
 ' Maybe that the boat won't hold us, or that 
 there won't be enough food and water, if they 
 seek to get away from the island. Come on, Rob ! ' 
 And the pair of us walked over to the fire. 
 
 Mat drew his pipe from his mouth and glared 
 at us. ' And what may you be wanting ? ' 
 demanded he sourly. 
 
 ' Food,' I told him. 
 
 ' See here,' he growled. ' There's little enough 
 grub come ashore. And there's less water. 
 And not enough grog. So you can go and 
 shift around for yourselves. That's what we've 
 talked out, my mates and me ain't it ? ' 
 
 ' That's so,' barked Treloar. And ' Ay, ay/ 
 Wall grunted, nodding his head. 
 
 Erskine, with John Corbe, came striding over 
 to the fire. ' Now, you men,' said he easily, 
 ' what's amiss here ? ' 
 
 ' These young swabs, ' Mat told him, ' is 
 wantin' grub. And they gets no grub. There's 
 not enough to keep life in us, and there's not 
 enough water. So they gets none.'
 
 296 The Black House 
 
 Erskine, with John Corbe beside him, said 
 coolly, ' Whatever there is of food and drink, 
 you men, is to be shared and shared alike by 
 every one who's come ashore. There's little 
 enough, say you ? There is ! And because of 
 that Mr. Corbe here and I propose to take 
 command, and put every man on rations so 
 much water, so much food and so much grog.' 
 
 ' You're proposing,' roared Mat, lurching to 
 his feet. 
 
 ' We have so decided, Mr. Corbe and I. If 
 we remain in this place we'll starve or die of 
 thirst, every man of us. If we provision the 
 boat, we may reach the shore of New Holland, 
 or work down the eastern coast to Botany Bay. 
 That's our one chance. We ask you to agree 
 to this ? ' 
 
 ' There's not enough for six,' vowed Mat, 
 with a savage oath, ' and there be less for eight. 
 And who put you in command ? I'd a fancy 
 you came aboard the Sea Hawk trussed up 
 like a hen. I'd a fancy you was in irons till 
 we sailed. And you're to take command, are 
 ye ? I ses an' so ses we all- we takes our 
 orders from the Captain, an' when we don't 
 we takes our orders from me.' 
 
 ' You're an insolent dog,' snarled Corbe, 
 breaking his silence. ' I warn you that Mr. 
 Erskine and I are armed we've pistols and 
 powder. And I'll put a ball through that ugly 
 figure-head of yours without the least regret. 
 You should have hanged long since.' 
 
 Mat, black with rage, snatched from his belt 
 a long sheath knife and lurched forward. But
 
 The Yellow Fang 297 
 
 instantly Erskine and Corbe had each a pistol 
 out levelled at him ; so, blasphemous and black, 
 he drew back from the fire Treloar and Wall 
 with him and stood there shaking his fist 
 and uttering a string of horrid oaths and threats 
 of vengeance on us. 
 
 ' Enough of this/ cried Erskine. ' If you're 
 not wiser, fellow, we'll take the boat and leave 
 you here. That's your choice to take your 
 orders from us or be left here to die.' 
 
 ' I takes my orders from the Captain only,' 
 roared Mat. 
 
 ' So take your orders,' Erskine retorted, 
 and pointed to the figure of Mr. Gandy coming 
 down the rock. 
 
 For the instant, Mr. Gandy so lurched in his 
 gait, I did believe that he was drunk. As he 
 came forward I saw that he was broken, 
 that his face was as the face of a man nigh to 
 death. His head was bare, and his silver locks 
 blew out dishevelled in the breeze. His features, 
 once handsome and imperious, were ivory white, 
 his cheeks sunken, his great eyes burning with 
 fever. And his hands shook as with palsy, 
 at times groped in the air, as if he came on 
 blindly. His blue coat, which had been so fine 
 in its dye and its splendour of gold lace, was 
 shrunken on him, though his body was shrunken ; 
 his white breeches stained with green seaweed ; 
 his silken stockings, ungartered, slipping down ; 
 the silver buckles of his shoes tarnished on the 
 shrivelling leather. 
 
 ' So, take your orders/ Erskine said again. 
 
 ' Captain, what's amiss ? ' gasped Mat, lurch-
 
 2g8 The Black House 
 
 ing to Gandy's side, and aiding him forward. 
 
 Mr. Gandy's voice came croaking. ' The 
 Hand of God ! ' he said ; ' the Hand of God ! ' 
 
 And so supported by the seaman's arm, slid 
 down upon a rock, and sat there shaking, 
 palsied, as the figure of death, all the while 
 muttering to himself, ' The Hand of God ! '
 
 Chapter XLI What Chanced on the Rock 
 
 WE planned to put out to sea that night. 
 All day we laboured Erskine and 
 Corbe and Rob and I in repairing the boat 
 and in collecting provisions, for never a hand's 
 turn offered Mat and his shipmates. They had 
 found a little keg of rum washed up on the 
 beach, and, broaching this, the three seamen 
 remained about it during the day, growing 
 uproarious, lethargic then with the heat of 
 the sun, and finally lying stretched out in 
 drunken stupor by the empty keg. Gandy, 
 too, had fallen asleep by the fire he had not 
 slept for the two nights ashore, Erskine told 
 us, but had gone pacing up and down the 
 grassy summit of the cliff as a madman, mutter- 
 ing wildly to himself, his face as the face of 
 the damned, and his eyes haunted ; he had not 
 been sane since first he came ashore. All the 
 previous night he had kept his vigil on the 
 cliff, stalking up and down, with the big moon 
 looking down upon him as a bleached, grinning 
 skull, and the winds from the sea shrieking 
 about the rock as souls in torment. The Hand 
 of God 'twas but the decay of age upon him ; 
 three score and ten, and he had passed the 
 
 299
 
 300 The Black House 
 
 allotted span. He slept now by the fire as 
 quietly as a child, but his face was as a death 
 mask fashioned in white plaster. 
 
 The planks of the boat were broken in by 
 the force with which it had been flung by the 
 sea upon the rocks when Gandy and his fellows 
 came ashore. We had but an axe, a hammer 
 and a few nails from the little locker, and a 
 clasp knife for repairing the damage, so that 
 we made sorry and slow shift at rendering the 
 craft seaworthy. We had but one barrel of 
 water washed ashore ; this we lashed securely 
 at the stern. Our provisions for the desperate 
 endeavour to reach the coast of New Holland 
 consisted of a barrel of salt pork, four sacks 
 of biscuit soaked with brine, and enough 
 oysters and mussels from the rocks to feed us 
 for a day or two. And we collected further 
 much broken biscuit, a few potatoes washed 
 in from the wreck; all this we stowed away 
 and lashed down, lest the seas wash it from the 
 boat. From a roll of canvas and a coil of 
 Manila rope we rigged up a sail and set up 
 a spar for the mast ; we had oars and to spare, 
 but of space, when all was in and the boat 
 ready for launching, we had not more than 
 enough in comfort for six men. And there 
 were on the rock eight of us from the wrecked 
 Sea Hawk, 
 
 'The boat will never float, Erskine,' says 
 John Corbe, as we paused at last to regard 
 our preparations for the voyage. Since I had 
 come to the isle he had said no word to me. 
 ' If you're wise we'll leave those drunken dogs
 
 What Chanced on the Rock 301 
 
 and Gandy here and put off now. It's our one 
 hope of safety.' 
 
 ' If they stay here,' said Erskine, ' they die, 
 and speedily.' 
 
 ' Better that they should die than we,' cried 
 Corbe. ' We take them aboard, and the boat 
 sinks. Or else they slit our throats or cast us 
 overboard.' 
 
 ' Yet I'll not leave them here. Out of the 
 track of ships no water. Corbe, if you will 
 have it so, we shall draw lots with them, whether 
 they take the boat, or we/ 
 
 ' I'm in no mind for jesting, Erskine ! ' 
 
 ' I'm not jesting, Corbe. The notion is a 
 wise one. We'll draw lots.' 
 
 ' Erskine,' cried Corbe impatiently, ' I tell 
 
 you, though you stay you and the boys there 
 
 though it means putting off with those three 
 
 scoundrels and Gandy who's nigh to death, I 
 
 go ! Draw lots with them, if you will. I go ! ' 
 
 He turned upon his heel, and left us, strid- 
 ing down the terrace then as if dreading lest 
 we put off without him. And never all that 
 day did John Corbe leave the boat, not chancing 
 our sailing and his marooning on the yellow 
 rock. 
 
 The yellow rock was shaped like the crater 
 of a burning mountain, going high above the 
 sea. Climbing up in the evening Rob and I 
 found ourselves within a cup of rock a wall of 
 rock about a circle of grass and scrub. And 
 from the wall we saw the crimson sun sink into 
 a crimson sea ; the glow burn out, the illimit- 
 able waters dyed purple, blacken for the fall-
 
 302 The Black House 
 
 ing night, whiten with the great gold moon. 
 Calm was upon the waters ; in the tropic night 
 the sea crooned on the reefs the wind was 
 dead. A sea of silver blue, a heaven of silver 
 blue, star-studded ; the moon a globe of pale 
 gold. Suddenly from below us came the sound 
 of a pistol shot, a bitter cry, a stream of 
 horrid oaths. 
 
 In terror then we raced across the cup, 
 scrambled down the steep ascent, were out upon 
 the terraces, and running for the boat. In 
 the full light of the moon I saw upon the ter- 
 race thirty feet above the boat the four men in 
 death grips a fifth, Mat, lay tumbled at their 
 feet ; four men, Erskine matched against the 
 great Wall, Corbe against young Treloar. I 
 saw the gleam of steel in Treloar 's hand- 
 saw him break loose and strike saw Corbe 
 beat thrice his pistol butt upon the fellow's 
 skull. And as Treloar reeled and the knife 
 clanged on the stone, I saw Corbe grip at his 
 throat and shower blows on his head, and 
 suddenly fling him crashing down upon the 
 rocks. Corbe swung about to look upon the 
 contest between the American and Wall. Er- 
 skine 's shirt had been torn from his back- 
 nude to the waist he fought with Wall apart 
 now, the huge fellow crouching low, knife in 
 hand. I saw Wall's face, bestial with drink, 
 eyes flaming in the clear light of the moon, 
 mouth slavering. I saw him rush in ; heard 
 Erskine 's fist crack on his jaw like a pistol 
 shot ; saw Wall go down. Again he was on 
 his feet, but reeling now Erskine was on him.
 
 What Chanced on the Rock 303 
 
 They were locked then in a death grip ; thrice 
 the giant swung the American from his feet ; 
 thrice he eluded him. But now they were 
 struggling nearer nearer to the edge of the 
 terrace ; it seemed that together they must go 
 down into the sea. Erskine's right hand was 
 clear ; it swung up into the air ; smashed down 
 upon Wall's face ; stunned him, it seemed, for 
 his arm swung wide. Erskine had leaped back ; 
 Wall was staggering on the very edge of the 
 rock. Suddenly he missed his footing, and fell 
 backwards, crashing down upon the rocks below. 
 And Erskine, blood streaming from a gash 
 across his brows, was coming back along the 
 terrace towards us, and laughing lightly as 
 we clasped his hands. And John Corbe was 
 muttering, ' A precious business, Erskine ! 
 The rogues nigh had us. At least well not 
 burden the boat with this carrion/ kicking 
 contemptuously the body of the man who 
 had sought to murder him and whom he had 
 slain.
 
 Chapter XLII North of New Holland 
 
 AN hour thence we sailed. Mr. Gandy, 
 though ghastly pale and shaken still, 
 had awakened strengthened from his slumber 
 he had slept through all the fight upon the 
 rocks and having drunk a dram of rum, and 
 eaten, had gone down with us unsupported 
 to the boat. The bodies of the dead men on 
 the rocks we lifted between us and laid out 
 together on the brush, and we piled upon them 
 rocks and broken timber for their burial. Sick 
 with the horror of the task, I rejoiced indeed 
 that we were to put off instantly Erskine and 
 Corbe and Rob, I believed, were as glad as I. 
 But Mr. Gandy, sitting watching us, made no 
 sign though his mind was clear he uttered 
 no word of anger or regret only when Erskine 
 offered his arm to aid him down to the boat, 
 he shook his head, and rising unaided walked 
 slowly and stiffly down before us. But seated 
 at the helm I saw that he had spread out upon 
 his knees the little chart that he had drawn 
 from his recollection of the convict's chart 
 of the treasure isle, and that he was peering 
 down upon it, intent. 
 
 ' Not ten leagues away/ he muttered to 
 
 304
 
 North of New Holland 305 
 
 Erskine, pointing with shaking finger at the 
 chart, as the American stepped into the boat. 
 ' We founder here, and to-morrow we should 
 have had the treasure under hatches and been 
 sailing home.' 
 
 ' Should these lads and I have sailed back 
 with you, or been marooned upon the isle ? ' 
 asked Erskine. 
 
 ' Ay, ay, ' said Gandy with thin laughter. 
 ' I know not. I do believe that I had planned 
 to maroon you. Sorry as is our plight, there- 
 fore, you are most fortunate, sir.' 
 
 John Corbe stood by the boat, gloomily re- 
 garding Gandy and the chart. ' If we land on 
 this isle, Erskine,' he said, ' it cannot be far 
 out of the course we plan. At least we may 
 bear away part of the treasure. If we are to 
 drown or go mad with thirst, or starve, the 
 treasure cannot alter our fate. But if we be 
 picked up by a ship, or if we strike down to 
 Botany Bay, at least we do not land in Eng- 
 land penniless. Your ship The Virginian is a 
 wreck and the most of your fortune with it. 
 You should be ready as I to make for the island. ' 
 
 Gandy, with a little compass on the palm of 
 his hand, studied the chart. Not ten leagues 
 south-east, so I take it from my observations 
 ere the storm. We should sail thither well 
 within two days, if the wind be fair.' 
 
 ' How d'ye say, Erskine ? ' cried Corbe im- 
 patiently. 
 
 ' We throw away our hopes of living, ' Erskine 
 retorted, ' for a wild story of treasure.' 
 
 ' And yet that very precious rosary of pearls,' 
 
 20
 
 306 The Black House 
 
 piped Gandy. ' And yet the convict's chart.' 
 
 ' We'll make thither, Erskine/ insisted Corbe. 
 ' I am prepared to risk my life for the venture.' 
 
 ' Have it so ! ' Erskine answered shortly. 
 ' And now to launch the boat.' 
 
 So we pushed off from the yellow rock where 
 the dead men lay. So we fell to our oars, the 
 four of us, while Gandy sat at the helm. Out 
 from the death trap of the reefs he brought us, 
 out to the silver sea. An hour we rowed or 
 more, till my hands were blistered ere a 
 little breeze came singing over the waters ; 
 and Erskine and Corbe set the sail. And we 
 were racing soon over the seas the silver 
 seas and the foam blew up from the prow, 
 and in our wake gleamed a phosphorescent line 
 of fire. We would take our turn at watching 
 Erskine directed he and I, Corbe and Rob- 
 Mr. Gandy sitting at the helm seemed sinking 
 again into the stupor that had come upon 
 him on the isle. 
 
 I took the helm and Erskine tended the 
 sail ; Mr. Gandy sat beside me, as the very figure 
 of death for his ghastly pallor, his snow-white 
 hair blowing out on the breeze, his eyes burn- 
 ing again with fever as two great jewels.
 
 Chapter XLIII The Hand of God 
 
 IT was the morning of the third day ere we 
 landed upon the isle. A green isle girt 
 about with mangroves going down to the 
 very sea. And as we rowed into a little bay, 
 from deep water into shallow, for the sand 
 shelved gradually, the tide was running out 
 and the stems of the nearest mangroves were 
 hung with weed and crusted with shell fish. 
 And the water below us was clear, and fish 
 of many colours and dead pearl shells shone 
 through the green and gold coloured waters 
 like flowers. Inshore we rowed, till we drew 
 in where the green ring of the mangroves seemed 
 the thinnest, and Erskine, leaping overboard, 
 with the axe hewed a clear space where we 
 might beach the boat. And this isle was no 
 more than a mile or so in circumference, one 
 of many isles going in towards the coast limned 
 in haze afar, and we had not chosen it from many 
 isles save that the convict years since had 
 described it to Gandy as an island topped by a 
 red peak going up above the wreck. 
 
 Burnt and blistered from the sun which had 
 glowed from the unflecked heavens through all 
 the previous day and all that morn, we landed on 
 
 307
 
 308 The Black House 
 
 the isle, a sorry company. Gandy, ghastly 
 and tottering he had passed the time in the 
 boat with scarce a word to any of us, seeming 
 wrapped in the blackest melancholy ; John 
 Corbe, greed in his eyes, greed on his lips, 
 greed in his shaking, clutching hands ; Erskine, 
 unshorn as they, black with the sun and sea 
 stained as we. And over us now fell the green 
 shade of the mangroves and the blessed cool ; 
 there was no sound of life upon the isle save 
 only the shriek of the sea- fowl, wheeling above 
 us and fishing over the waters. We drank each 
 a cup of water, and ate a shred of biscuit and 
 salt meat, ere we set out upon our quest. For 
 said Erskine 
 
 ' Well not tarry here ! There's no water in 
 this place. We must make for the mainland 
 ere the night. An hour, Corbe, and no more ! ' 
 
 So through the mangroves we forced our way, 
 and into the sands. Sands dune on dune- 
 dazzling as gold in the sunlight, smeared with 
 thin green rushes, withering to yellow for the 
 heat. Sand slipping under our feet, scarce 
 giving us foothold when we sought to scale a 
 dune blown up by the sea winds, so loosely 
 was it piled. And the sun burnt down upon us 
 like fire. 
 
 Mr. Gandy, going on ahead as one possessed, 
 set the pace for us. The sweat poured from 
 us. Black flies from the mangrove swamp where 
 the dead fish stank in decay swarmed about us, 
 and were beaten off an instant only. Burn- 
 ing sun, burning yellow sands, and the great 
 figure of Gandy as one possessed stalking ahead.
 
 The Hand of God 309 
 
 ' He has gone mad surely/ gasped Erskine, 
 as we paused below a dune, and Gandy, scaling 
 it, still sped before us. 
 
 ' Mad why, he was ever a mad rogue/ 
 muttered Corbe, wiping the sweat from his 
 streaming face. ' Possessed of a devil that 
 would not let him rest. Seventy years and odd, 
 and planning ever to take the seas again, 
 when he might have lived quietly in England. 
 Slaver he's been, and pirate madman always/ 
 
 ' Fit tutor/ Erskine sneered, ' for your kins- 
 man ! ' 
 
 Not a word answered Corbe, but he bent on 
 me a look of bitter hate all the time of our 
 sailing in the boat he had said no word to me. 
 Turning from us now he scaled the dune and 
 vanished after Gandy. And wearily tramping 
 after through this desert of sand I fell to pic- 
 turing the refugee from Botany Bay landing 
 on this devilish isle in search of water, as Gandy 
 had told the tale to Corbe 
 
 ' I'd picture to you, Corbe this argosy, 
 broken upon a reef. And in her holds yet a 
 treasure of gold and jewels, though spices and 
 silks be long since blown to dust dust with 
 the dust of the dead who trod her decks. . . . 
 
 ' I tell you, Corbe, the sand dunes were about 
 him yellow as glass, smeared with the green 
 of rushes no trees no shade. . . / 
 
 Ay, the vision of the fellow shaped within 
 my brain. I think the fever had me from 
 the sunlight and the terrors of the wreck. My 
 eyes were blurred to the dazzle of sun and sand. 
 I saw nothing that was about me none of the
 
 310 The Black House 
 
 company with me in the flesh. Nay, but I 
 saw a figure going before me swiftly after 
 Gandy and John Corbe he was young, his 
 beard bristling upon his chin, his head close- 
 cropped ; he wore a tattered shirt and tattered 
 breeches of nankeen, belted about his middle. 
 He had a metal cup in his right hand. His 
 feet, I saw, were caked with sand and blood! 
 Now though I followed closely at his heels he 
 gave me no heed, speeding after Gandy. But 
 his feet left no imprint on the sand. 
 
 Ere I lost sight of him, we had drawn in under 
 the hull of the argosy, broken on the red fang 
 maybe two hundred years before. So for me, 
 as for the convict of Gandy 's tale, the shade 
 seemed to flow out like cool water green 
 water on yellow sand. 
 
 She was high built, going high to a shattered 
 turret the scroll of beaten metal corroded 
 black and green, and on the bleached timbers 
 of the wreck the drippings from the scroll 
 like streaks of green paint. Exhausted, gasp- 
 ing, we fell upon the sand in the shade, Erskine 
 and Corbe and Rob and I, and lay there, breath- 
 less. 
 
 Not so Gandy ! I heard his body rasping 
 against the ship's side I heard the crash of 
 rotting wood as if he had forced his way through 
 to the hold. And suddenly the sound of his 
 voice savage, strident brought us to our 
 feet, and staggering round under the ship's 
 side. 
 
 She was broken amidships broken on a 
 great blood- red fang of rock ; a cavity gaped
 
 The Hand of God 311 
 
 in her side smashed through the matchwood 
 with some bar of iron, I take it, by the fellow 
 who had landed on the isle when he fled from 
 Botany Bay. We saw no sign we of Gandy 
 only from within the hulk came the mutter of 
 his voice his laughter, cracked, broken laugh- 
 ter, a madman's laughter. 
 
 Now the cavity reached down to the very 
 sand, and easily we clambered through, Erskine 
 and Corbe ahead of Rob and me. And I saw 
 that we were in the ship's hold that a wide 
 stretch of deck had fallen in, a ruin of broken 
 beams and planking, letting in light for the 
 full space of the hold. Ay, and a great black 
 iron-bound chest with the lid smashed off lay 
 open before us. And a skull was grinning up 
 at us, and nigh it lay the skeleton's bones. 
 Gandy was kneeling by the chest ; Gandy was 
 clawing at the treasure in it his withered 
 white talons clawing as a skeleton's bony 
 hands. Ropes of pearls, in the shade milk- 
 white as the moon, and burning in rose colours 
 when the sunlight coming in by the break in 
 the deck glinted on them. Pearls a treasure 
 of pearls. Emeralds green as the sea, and hav- 
 ing in their green the phosphorescent lights as 
 the lights from the eyes of the cat. A collar 
 of thin gold, crusted with rubies, blood-red 
 rubies, which when Gandy clawed them out 
 splashed from his bone-white hands as blood. 
 Cups of gold, fashioned fantastically a great 
 cup of wine-red glass set on a stem of gold. He 
 lifted it high in his claw as we watched him. 
 He lifted it high, and the sunlight caught its
 
 312 The Black House 
 
 stem. And for its setting of gems a jewelled 
 snake of green and blue and rose-coloured fire 
 seemed suddenly to coil about the stem. He 
 lifted it high, as if he would drink from the 
 empty glass. And his voice came strident, 
 shrill. 
 
 ' Such a treasure as never all the gentlemen 
 of fortune snatched from the damned Spaniard. 
 Such a treasure as I, Simon Gandy, sought all 
 the days I sailed my ship. Treasure of Ind 
 lying here for the sands to bury or the thief 
 to paw he who fled from Botany Bay. He 
 who died in the night in the tavern for the 
 rosary and the chart ! ' 
 
 I saw the figure in the sunlight then ! I 
 saw it poised to spring ! 
 
 ' And the blood ran over my hands and 
 splashed upon my face. And none heard 
 none, as I passed down the stair into the street. 
 And none followed. None followed after ! 
 Rosary and the collar I sold to the Jew the 
 collar of gold for I starved I starved in 
 London. I who had sailed my ship The Tor- 
 toise, that I drove to her death upon the rocks. 
 Dutchman's treasure this mark you/ turn- 
 ing suddenly upon us, as if aware of our pre- 
 sence. ' A man would sell his soul to the Devil, 
 sirs, for a moiety of this. Even as I sold my 
 soul ! Even as you sold John Corbe ! ' 
 
 I heard John Corbe gasp behind me. I saw 
 the figure gliding forward. I would have 
 cried out, but my tongue seemed stuck to my 
 mouth. 
 
 ' And I live and shall live ! And the gems
 
 The Hand of God 313 
 
 are mine and the gold and the cup is mine. 
 And I drink I drink to the Devil, my mas- 
 ter/ 
 
 I saw him swing the blazing cup above his 
 head. I saw the flames of its jewels as a coronal 
 of fire. I saw the figure leap. 
 
 Suddenly the cup crashed from his hands and 
 smashed in fragments at my feet. I saw him 
 clutch wildly at his throat, reel back, and fall 
 upon the treasure chest struggling an instant 
 twitching horribly froth on his lips. Dead, 
 when we bore him out from the reeking hold 
 into the shade.
 
 Chapter XLIV I Come Again to Cor be 
 
 NOW it was a December evening more than 
 a year thence ere I came again to 
 Corbe. I sat muffled in greatcoat and shawl, 
 my mother by my side and Rob, clad as I, 
 facing me. Ay, my mother, for the day before 
 in the office of Mr. Garvin, attorney to Mrs. 
 Corbe, John Corbe, my kinsman, had told the 
 story of my spiriting away at his instance, that 
 the Corbe lands might be his. Told it coldly 
 and impatiently, regretting nothing, a hand- 
 some figure of a gentleman, modishly clad and 
 curled, though a whit too sun-burned for the 
 fashion. And all the while my mother sat 
 and watched him with pale, contemptuous face, 
 as he told his tale slowly, so that the clerk 
 might write it down; and Mr. Garvin sitting, 
 plump and powdered, regarded him mildly 
 through his spectacles. But no sooner had the 
 gentleman scrawled his signature than the old 
 attorney was on his feet and, banging his fist 
 upon the table with such vehemence that he 
 splashed the ink upon the page, he cried indig- 
 nantly : 
 
 ' John Corbe, I've listened to as pretty a 
 confession as ever has been my lot in the 
 
 314
 
 I Come Again to Corbe 315 
 
 course of my experience. Forty years' experi- 
 ence ! Gad, Corbe, I marvel that madam lets 
 you go scot-free. I marvel I Marvel ! Jen- 
 kins ' to the clerk ' show Mr. Corbe the 
 door. ' 
 
 Drawing on his gloves and taking hat and 
 cane, his insolent lips sneering still, John 
 Corbe made my mother a profound bow and 
 passed out without a word. Out to game and 
 wine away the guineas that were his share of 
 the treasure in the hold of the wrecked Dutch- 
 man. Out of my life, for I never looked again 
 on John Corbe to the day of his miserable 
 death, a broken wastrel, diseased, penurious. 
 That had been his condition he should 
 have his share and should go free and unchal- 
 lenged ; and my mother, though observing that 
 the very bargaining set any doubt for her 
 at rest that, indeed, she had none, knowing 
 me her son had promised that there should 
 be no scandal and no prosecution of him, 
 while Erskine had consented contemptuously 
 that a fourth of the gems should be his. 
 
 For we had borne away from the wreck 
 the most precious of the gems, when we sailed 
 from the isle. Though I, with the thought of 
 the grim horror I had seen or did believe 
 that I had seen, whether in fact or fancy- 
 would not enter the hold of the wrecked argosy 
 again, after we bore Gandy forth. And we 
 had buried his body in the sand under the 
 shade that the great ship made buried him 
 in a shallow grave, and 'left no cross to show his 
 resting-place with no prayer for his soul, save
 
 316 The Black House 
 
 the prayer that silently I offered to Heaven 
 for him, or the prayer that Rob or Erskine 
 might have framed. 
 
 Now, if the argosy contained other treasure 
 than the contents of the chest, so was it hid 
 beneath the fallen deck that we could not have 
 laid it bare, nor, indeed, could we have carried 
 it away, so weary were we with our tramping 
 over the sands so parched with thirst under 
 that burning sun. But we bore away many 
 pearls and emeralds, and the collar of rubies 
 set in gold which had flowed from Gandy's 
 hands like blood. 
 
 And on the following morn we sailed 
 again in better heart, for a shower of rain 
 had fallen in the night, and from the dripping 
 mangroves and the soaking soil we had run 
 several gallons of fresh water into the barrel. 
 So thence for five days we beat along the coast- 
 not landing lest we fall in with savages and 
 having a sufficiency of food and only the four 
 of us now left aboard. At eve of the fifth day 
 a strong wind drove us from . the shore all 
 night from shore, and though at times we 
 heard the roar of breakers, we drove safely out 
 to sea. And heavy rain falling again we replen- 
 ished our stock of water. 
 
 So for a week thence we floated in our little 
 boat, the sport of the sea. So, we had scarce 
 enough bread and pork to keep the life in us, 
 and but the merest sup of water thrice a day. 
 So, as with Bligh and his hapless company 
 turned adrift from His Majesty's ship Bounty, 
 the will of one man bore us with it into safety.
 
 / Come Again to Corbe 317 
 
 And at last at dawn the sails of the brig 
 Molm of John Company's fleet bound from 
 New South Wales shaped on the distant sea. 
 And ere noon we were aboard with our treasure, 
 safe from all the perils of the sea. 
 
 Home to London a fair voyage and we 
 as passengers. Grown were Rob and I 
 to tall fellows in those two years since first 
 the Sea Hawk had borne us off from Corbe. 
 Aye, and when we sought out Garvin, to whom 
 John Corbe, caring nothing now save for his 
 share of the treasure, directed us, and the 
 attorney had told us that Mistress Anne, believ- 
 ing me dead, and no longer able to endure the 
 loneliness of the Manor was living a secluded 
 life in London ; and when we had sought her 
 out, and I had caught her in my arms, her head, 
 grey with long sorrowing, scarce reached my 
 shoulder. 
 
 So now we drove to Corbe for Christmas 
 clad, Rob and I, modishly for the first time in 
 our lives. My mother's purse had tricked 
 us out, though Mr. Garvin, ere we left London, 
 had undertaken the suit against Eggleston 
 and his wife for the recovery of Rob's patri- 
 mony. Pounds, he had begged my mother to 
 punish ; she, caring only now that I was with 
 her, had conceded only that the attorney might 
 address a letter to the fat scamp, advising him 
 of my return, of John Corbe 's confession, and 
 of his liability for complicity in the affair. 
 But no scandal would my mother have for all 
 Mr. Garvin 's protests and pleadings. 
 
 For Corbe ! Old Martha and John yet kept
 
 3i 8 The Black House 
 
 the Manor in readiness for their mistress, should 
 she ever elect to return from London. And a 
 letter had gone before us telling our coming. 
 And though the snow was thick on the roads, 
 and the flakes crusted upon the carriage glass, 
 the warmth of the great hearth at my home 
 seemed to flow out to me. Erskine would 
 join us for Christmas, having tarried in London 
 only for the disposition of the gems that should 
 restore his fortunes in Virginia. Erskine, who 
 loved my mother the thought of whom alone 
 vexed me now lest he should win her lest 
 he should share with me her love so long with- 
 held from me. 
 
 Nigh Corbe ! On the ridge above the stone 
 bridge where we had met Sir Martin Ainley 
 on that night of the attack upon the Manor. 
 And where he met us now overtaking us in 
 his great coach drawn by a spanking pair, 
 his voice roaring out, ' Pull up ! D'y e near me ? 
 Damn you, pull up ' this to our coachman. 
 
 Stout and bluff and hearty he greeted us, 
 calling me the devil of a young dog to go sail- 
 ing overseas ' Leaving the finest woman in 
 England to cry her pretty eyes out for ye. Why, 
 ye should be horsewhipped ' and laughing 
 his wheezing laugh, and all the while ogling my 
 mother. But for the chill and for the fact 
 that our carriage would scarce bear the weight 
 of him, he returned presently to his own coach, 
 promising, with a gallant bow and a kissing of 
 his fingers at my mother, to follow on after to 
 the Manor. 
 
 ' The man, ' says my mother, laughing, as
 
 / Come Again to Corbe 319 
 
 she drew her cloak about her, ' will be the plague 
 of my life again. Oh, my dear, he wants 
 to marry me he's pestered me for years. 
 And I'll never marry him the ridiculous crea- 
 ture or any one else. My heart's not large 
 enough ever to love more in life than Roger 
 Corbe, your father or you, my son.' 
 
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