by M. R. James
MR HUMPHREYS AND HIS INHERITANCE
About fifteen years ago, on a date late in August or early in September,a train drew up at Wilsthorpe, a country station in Eastern England. Outof it stepped (with other passengers) a rather tall and reasonablygood-looking young man, carrying a handbag and some papers tied up in apacket. He was expecting to be met, one would say, from the way in whichhe looked about him: and he was, as obviously, expected. Thestationmaster ran forward a step or two, and then, seeming to recollecthimself, turned and beckoned to a stout and consequential person with ashort round beard who was scanning the train with some appearance ofbewilderment. 'Mr Cooper,' he called out,--'Mr Cooper, I think this isyour gentleman'; and then to the passenger who had just alighted, 'MrHumphreys, sir? Glad to bid you welcome to Wilsthorpe. There's a cartfrom the Hall for your luggage, and here's Mr Cooper, what I think youknow.' Mr Cooper had hurried up, and now raised his hat and shook hands.'Very pleased, I'm sure,' he said, 'to give the echo to Mr Palmer's kindwords. I should have been the first to render expression to them but forthe face not being familiar to me, Mr Humphreys. May your residence amongus be marked as a red-letter day, sir.' 'Thank you very much, Mr Cooper,'said Humphreys, 'for your good wishes, and Mr Palmer also. I do hope verymuch that this change of--er--tenancy--which you must all regret, I amsure--will not be to the detriment of those with whom I shall be broughtin contact.' He stopped, feeling that the words were not fittingthemselves together in the happiest way, and Mr Cooper cut in, 'Oh, youmay rest satisfied of that, Mr Humphreys. I'll take it upon myself toassure you, sir, that a warm welcome awaits you on all sides. And as toany change of propriety turning out detrimental to the neighbourhood,well, your late uncle--' And here Mr Cooper also stopped, possibly inobedience to an inner monitor, possibly because Mr Palmer, clearing histhroat loudly, asked Humphreys for his ticket. The two men left thelittle station, and--at Humphreys' suggestion--decided to walk to MrCooper's house, where luncheon was awaiting them.
The relation in which these personages stood to each other can beexplained in a very few lines. Humphreys had inherited--quiteunexpectedly--a property from an uncle: neither the property nor theuncle had he ever seen. He was alone in the world--a man of good abilityand kindly nature, whose employment in a Government office for the lastfour or five years had not gone far to fit him for the life of a countrygentleman. He was studious and rather diffident, and had few out-of-doorpursuits except golf and gardening. To-day he had come down for the firsttime to visit Wilsthorpe and confer with Mr Cooper, the bailiff, as tothe matters which needed immediate attention. It may be asked how thiscame to be his first visit? Ought he not in decency to have attended hisuncle's funeral? The answer is not far to seek: he had been abroad at thetime of the death, and his address had not been at once procurable. So hehad put off coming to Wilsthorpe till he heard that all things were readyfor him. And now we find him arrived at Mr Cooper's comfortable house,facing the parsonage, and having just shaken hands with the smiling Mrsand Miss Cooper.
During the minutes that preceded the announcement of luncheon the partysettled themselves on elaborate chairs in the drawing-room, Humphreys,for his part, perspiring quietly in the consciousness that stock wasbeing taken of him.
'I was just saying to Mr Humphreys, my dear,' said Mr Cooper, 'that Ihope and trust that his residence among us here in Wilsthorpe will bemarked as a red-letter day.'
'Yes, indeed, I'm sure,' said Mrs Cooper heartily, 'and many, many ofthem.'
Miss Cooper murmured words to the same effect, and Humphreys attempted apleasantry about painting the whole calendar red, which, though greetedwith shrill laughter, was evidently not fully understood. At this pointthey proceeded to luncheon.
'Do you know this part of the country at all, Mr Humphreys?' said MrsCooper, after a short interval. This was a better opening.
'No, I'm sorry to say I do _not_,' said Humphreys. 'It seems verypleasant, what I could see of it coming down in the train.'
'Oh, it _is_ a pleasant part. Really, I sometimes say I don't know anicer district, for the country; and the people round, too: such aquantity always going on. But I'm afraid you've come a little late forsome of the better garden parties, Mr Humphreys.'
'I suppose I have; dear me, what a pity!' said Humphreys, with a gleam ofrelief; and then, feeling that something more could be got out of thistopic, 'But after all, you see, Mrs Cooper, even if I could have beenhere earlier, I should have been cut off from them, should I not? My pooruncle's recent death, you know--'
'Oh dear, Mr Humphreys, to be sure; what a dreadful thing of me to say!'(And Mr and Miss Cooper seconded the proposition inarticulately.) 'Whatmust you have thought? I _am_ sorry: you must really forgive me.'
'Not at all, Mrs Cooper, I assure you. I can't honestly assert that myuncle's death was a great grief to me, for I had never seen him. All Imeant was that I supposed I shouldn't be expected to take part for somelittle time in festivities of that kind.'
'Now, really it's very kind of you to take it in that way, Mr Humphreys,isn't it, George? And you _do_ forgive me? But only fancy! You never sawpoor old Mr Wilson!'
'Never in my life; nor did I ever have a letter from him. But, by theway, you have something to forgive _me_ for. I've never thanked you,except by letter, for all the trouble you've taken to find people to lookafter me at the Hall.'
'Oh, I'm sure that was nothing, Mr Humphreys; but I really do think thatyou'll find them give satisfaction. The man and his wife whom we've gotfor the butler and housekeeper we've known for a number of years: such anice respectable couple, and Mr Cooper, I'm sure, can answer for the menin the stables and gardens.'
'Yes, Mr Humphreys, they're a good lot. The head gardener's the only onewho's stopped on from Mr Wilson's time. The major part of the employees,as you no doubt saw by the will, received legacies from the old gentlemanand retired from their posts, and as the wife says, your housekeeper andbutler are calculated to render you every satisfaction.'
'So everything, Mr Humphreys, is ready for you to step in this very day,according to what I understood you to wish,' said Mrs Cooper.'Everything, that is, except company, and there I'm afraid you'll findyourself quite at a standstill. Only we did understand it was yourintention to move in at once. If not, I'm sure you know we should havebeen only too pleased for you to stay here.'
'I'm quite sure you would, Mrs Cooper, and I'm very grateful to you. ButI thought I had really better make the plunge at once. I'm accustomed toliving alone, and there will be quite enough to occupy myevenings--looking over papers and books and so on--for some time to come,I thought if Mr Cooper could spare the time this afternoon to go over thehouse and grounds with me--'
'Certainly, certainly, Mr Humphreys. My time is your own, up to any houryou please.'
'Till dinner-time, father, you mean,' said Miss Cooper. 'Don't forgetwe're going over to the Brasnetts'. And have you got all the gardenkeys?'
'Are you a great gardener, Miss Cooper?' said Mr Humphreys. 'I wish youwould tell me what I'm to expect at the Hall.'
'Oh, I don't know about a _great_ gardener, Mr Humphreys: I'm very fondof flowers--but the Hall garden might be made quite lovely, I often say.It's very old-fashioned as it is: and a great deal of shrubbery. There'san old temple, besides, and a maze.'
'Really? Have you explored it ever?'
'No-o,' said Miss Cooper, drawing in her lips and shaking her head. 'I'veoften longed to try, but old Mr Wilson always kept it locked. He wouldn'teven let Lady Wardrop into it. (She lives near here, at Bentley, youknow, and she's a _great_ gardener, if you like.) That's why I askedfather if he had all the keys.'
'I see. Well, I must evidently look into that, and show you over it whenI've learnt the way.'
'Oh, thank you so much, Mr Humphreys! Now I shall have the laugh of MissFoster (that's our rector's daughter, you know; they're away on theirholiday now--such nice people). We always had a joke between us whichshould be the first to get into the maze.'
'I think the garden keys m
ust be up at the house,' said Mr Cooper, whohad been looking over a large bunch. 'There is a number there in thelibrary. Now, Mr Humphreys, if you're prepared, we might bid goodbye tothese ladies and set forward on our little tour of exploration.'
* * * * *
As they came out of Mr Cooper's front gate, Humphreys had to run thegauntlet--not of an organized demonstration, but of a good deal oftouching of hats and careful contemplation from the men and women who hadgathered in somewhat unusual numbers in the village street. He had,further, to exchange some remarks with the wife of the lodge-keeper asthey passed the park gates, and with the lodge-keeper himself, who wasattending to the park road. I cannot, however, spare the time to reportthe progress fully. As they traversed the half-mile or so between thelodge and the house, Humphreys took occasion to ask his companion somequestion which brought up the topic of his late uncle, and it did nottake long before Mr Cooper was embarked upon a disquisition.
'It is singular to think, as the wife was saying just now, that youshould never have seen the old gentleman. And yet--you won'tmisunderstand me, Mr Humphreys, I feel confident, when I say that in myopinion there would have been but little congeniality betwixt yourselfand him. Not that I have a word to say in deprecation--not a single word.I can tell you what he was,' said Mr Cooper, pulling up suddenly andfixing Humphreys with his eye. 'Can tell you what he was in a nutshell,as the saying goes. He was a complete, thorough valentudinarian. Thatdescribes him to a T. That's what he was, sir, a completevalentudinarian. No participation in what went on around him. I didventure, I think, to send you a few words of cutting from our localpaper, which I took the occasion to contribute on his decease. If Irecollect myself aright, such is very much the gist of them. But don't,Mr Humphreys,' continued Cooper, tapping him impressively on thechest,--'don't you run away with the impression that I wish to say aughtbut what is most creditable--_most_ creditable--of your respected uncleand my late employer. Upright, Mr Humphreys--open as the day; liberal toall in his dealings. He had the heart to feel and the hand toaccommodate. But there it was: there was the stumbling-block--hisunfortunate health--or, as I might more truly phrase it, his _want_ ofhealth.'
'Yes, poor man. Did he suffer from any special disorder before his lastillness--which, I take it, was little more than old age?'
'Just that, Mr Humphreys--just that. The flash flickering slowly away inthe pan,' said Cooper, with what he considered an appropriategesture,--'the golden bowl gradually ceasing to vibrate. But as to yourother question I should return a negative answer. General absence ofvitality? yes: special complaint? no, unless you reckon a nasty cough hehad with him. Why, here we are pretty much at the house. A handsomemansion, Mr Humphreys, don't you consider?'
It deserved the epithet, on the whole: but it was oddly proportioned--avery tall red-brick house, with a plain parapet concealing the roofalmost entirely. It gave the impression of a town house set down in thecountry; there was a basement, and a rather imposing flight of stepsleading up to the front door. It seemed also, owing to its height, todesiderate wings, but there were none. The stables and other offices wereconcealed by trees. Humphreys guessed its probable date as 1770 orthereabouts.
The mature couple who had been engaged to act as butler andcook-housekeeper were waiting inside the front door, and opened it astheir new master approached. Their name, Humphreys already knew, wasCalton; of their appearance and manner he formed a favourable impressionin the few minutes' talk he had with them. It was agreed that he shouldgo through the plate and the cellar next day with Mr Calton, and that MrsC. should have a talk with him about linen, bedding, and so on--whatthere was, and what there ought to be. Then he and Cooper, dismissing theCaltons for the present, began their view of the house. Its topography isnot of importance to this story. The large rooms on the ground floor weresatisfactory, especially the library, which was as large as thedining-room, and had three tall windows facing east. The bedroom preparedfor Humphreys was immediately above it. There were many pleasant, and afew really interesting, old pictures. None of the furniture was new, andhardly any of the books were later than the seventies. After hearing ofand seeing the few changes his uncle had made in the house, andcontemplating a shiny portrait of him which adorned the drawing-room,Humphreys was forced to agree with Cooper that in all probability therewould have been little to attract him in his predecessor. It made himrather sad that he could not be sorry--_dolebat se dolere non posse_--forthe man who, whether with or without some feeling of kindliness towardshis unknown nephew, had contributed so much to his well-being; for hefelt that Wilsthorpe was a place in which he could be happy, andespecially happy, it might be, in its library.
And now it was time to go over the garden: the empty stables could wait,and so could the laundry. So to the garden they addressed themselves, andit was soon evident that Miss Cooper had been right in thinking thatthere were possibilities. Also that Mr Cooper had done well in keeping onthe gardener. The deceased Mr Wilson might not have, indeed plainly hadnot, been imbued with the latest views on gardening, but whatever hadbeen done here had been done under the eye of a knowledgeable man, andthe equipment and stock were excellent. Cooper was delighted with thepleasure Humphreys showed, and with the suggestions he let fall from timeto time. 'I can see,' he said, 'that you've found your meatear here, MrHumphreys: you'll make this place a regular signosier before very manyseasons have passed over our heads. I wish Clutterham had beenhere--that's the head gardener--and here he would have been of course,as I told you, but for his son's being horse doover with a fever, poorfellow! I should like him to have heard how the place strikes you.'
'Yes, you told me he couldn't be here today, and I was very sorry to hearthe reason, but it will be time enough tomorrow. What is that whitebuilding on the mound at the end of the grass ride? Is it the temple MissCooper mentioned?'
'That it is, Mr Humphreys--the Temple of Friendship. Constructed ofmarble brought out of Italy for the purpose, by your late uncle'sgrandfather. Would it interest you perhaps to take a turn there? You geta very sweet prospect of the park.'
The general lines of the temple were those of the Sibyl's Temple atTivoli, helped out by a dome, only the whole was a good deal smaller.Some ancient sepulchral reliefs were built into the wall, and about itall was a pleasant flavour of the grand tour. Cooper produced the key,and with some difficulty opened the heavy door. Inside there was ahandsome ceiling, but little furniture. Most of the floor was occupied bya pile of thick circular blocks of stone, each of which had a singleletter deeply cut on its slightly convex upper surface. 'What is themeaning of these?' Humphreys inquired.
'Meaning? Well, all things, we're told, have their purpose, Mr Humphreys,and I suppose these blocks have had theirs as well as another. But whatthat purpose is or was [Mr Cooper assumed a didactic attitude here], I,for one, should be at a loss to point out to you, sir. All I know ofthem--and it's summed up in a very few words--is just this: that they'restated to have been removed by your late uncle, at a period before Ientered on the scene, from the maze. That, Mr Humphreys, is--'
'Oh, the maze!' exclaimed Humphreys. 'I'd forgotten that: we must have alook at it. Where is it?'
Cooper drew him to the door of the temple, and pointed with his stick.'Guide your eye,' he said (somewhat in the manner of the Second Elder inHandel's 'Susanna'--
Far to the west direct your straining eyes Where yon tall holm-tree rises to the skies)
'Guide your eye by my stick here, and follow out the line directlyopposite to the spot where we're standing now, and I'll engage, MrHumphreys, that you'll catch the archway over the entrance. You'll see itjust at the end of the walk answering to the one that leads up to thisvery building. Did you think of going there at once? because if that bethe case, I must go to the house and procure the key. If you would walkon there, I'll rejoin you in a few moments' time.'
Accordingly Humphreys strolled down the ride leading to the temple, pastthe garden-front of the house, and up the turfy approach
to the archwaywhich Cooper had pointed out to him. He was surprised to find that thewhole maze was surrounded by a high wall, and that the archway wasprovided with a padlocked iron gate; but then he remembered that MissCooper had spoken of his uncle's objection to letting anyone enter thispart of the garden. He was now at the gate, and still Cooper came not.For a few minutes he occupied himself in reading the motto cut over theentrance, _Secretum meum mihi et filiis domus meae_, and in trying torecollect the source of it. Then he became impatient and considered thepossibility of scaling the wall. This was clearly not worth while; itmight have been done if he had been wearing an older suit: or could thepadlock--a very old one--be forced? No, apparently not: and yet, as hegave a final irritated kick at the gate, something gave way, and the lockfell at his feet. He pushed the gate open inconveniencing a number ofnettles as he did so, and stepped into the enclosure.
It was a yew maze, of circular form, and the hedges, long untrimmed, hadgrown out and upwards to a most unorthodox breadth and height. The walks,too, were next door to impassable. Only by entirely disregardingscratches, nettle-stings, and wet, could Humphreys force his way alongthem; but at any rate this condition of things, he reflected, would makeit easier for him to find his way out again, for he left a very visibletrack. So far as he could remember, he had never been in a maze before,nor did it seem to him now that he had missed much. The dankness anddarkness, and smell of crushed goosegrass and nettles were anything butcheerful. Still, it did not seem to be a very intricate specimen of itskind. Here he was (by the way, was that Cooper arrived at last? No!) verynearly at the heart of it, without having taken much thought as to whatpath he was following. Ah! there at last was the centre, easily gained.And there was something to reward him. His first impression was that thecentral ornament was a sundial; but when he had switched away someportion of the thick growth of brambles and bindweed that had formed overit, he saw that it was a less ordinary decoration. A stone column aboutfour feet high, and on the top of it a metal globe--copper, to judge bythe green patina--engraved, and finely engraved too, with figures inoutline, and letters. That was what Humphreys saw, and a brief glance atthe figures convinced him that it was one of those mysterious thingscalled celestial globes, from which, one would suppose, no one ever yetderived any information about the heavens. However, it was too dark--atleast in the maze--for him to examine this curiosity at all closely, andbesides, he now heard Cooper's voice, and sounds as of an elephant in thejungle. Humphreys called to him to follow the track he had beaten out,and soon Cooper emerged panting into the central circle. He was full ofapologies for his delay; he had not been able, after all, to find thekey. 'But there!' he said, 'you've penetrated into the heart of themystery unaided and unannealed, as the saying goes. Well! I suppose it'sa matter of thirty to forty years since any human foot has trod theseprecincts. Certain it is that I've never set foot in them before. Well,well! what's the old proverb about angels fearing to tread? It's provedtrue once again in this case.' Humphreys' acquaintance with Cooper,though it had been short, was sufficient to assure him that there was noguile in this allusion, and he forbore the obvious remark, merelysuggesting that it was fully time to get back to the house for a late cupof tea, and to release Cooper for his evening engagement. They left themaze accordingly, experiencing well-nigh the same ease in retracing theirpath as they had in coming in.
'Have you any idea,' Humphreys asked, as they went towards the house,'why my uncle kept that place so carefully locked?'
Cooper pulled up, and Humphreys felt that he must be on the brink of arevelation.
'I should merely be deceiving you, Mr Humphreys, and that to no goodpurpose, if I laid claim to possess any information whatsoever on thattopic. When I first entered upon my duties here, some eighteen yearsback, that maze was word for word in the condition you see it now, andthe one and only occasion on which the question ever arose within myknowledge was that of which my girl made mention in your hearing. LadyWardrop--I've not a word to say against her--wrote applying for admissionto the maze. Your uncle showed me the note--a most civil note--everythingthat could be expected from such a quarter. "Cooper," he said, "I wishyou'd reply to that note on my behalf." "Certainly Mr Wilson," I said,for I was quite inured to acting as his secretary, "what answer shall Ireturn to it?" "Well," he said, "give Lady Wardrop my compliments, andtell her that if ever that portion of the grounds is taken in hand Ishall be happy to give her the first opportunity of viewing it, but thatit has been shut up now for a number of years, and I shall be grateful toher if she kindly won't press the matter." That, Mr Humphreys, was yourgood uncle's last word on the subject, and I don't think I can addanything to it. Unless,' added Cooper, after a pause, 'it might be justthis: that, so far as I could form a judgement, he had a dislike (aspeople often will for one reason or another) to the memory of hisgrandfather, who, as I mentioned to you, had that maze laid out. A man ofpeculiar teenets, Mr Humphreys, and a great traveller. You'll have theopportunity, on the coming Sabbath, of seeing the tablet to him in ourlittle parish church; put up it was some long time after his death.'
'Oh! I should have expected a man who had such a taste for building tohave designed a mausoleum for himself.'
'Well, I've never noticed anything of the kind you mention; and, in fact,come to think of it, I'm not at all sure that his resting-place is withinour boundaries at all: that he lays in the vault I'm pretty confident isnot the case. Curious now that I shouldn't be in a position to inform youon that heading! Still, after all, we can't say, can we, Mr Humphreys,that it's a point of crucial importance where the pore mortal coils arebestowed?'
At this point they entered the house, and Cooper's speculations wereinterrupted.
Tea was laid in the library, where Mr Cooper fell upon subjectsappropriate to the scene. 'A fine collection of books! One of the finest,I've understood from connoisseurs, in this part of the country; splendidplates, too, in some of these works. I recollect your uncle showing meone with views of foreign towns--most absorbing it was: got up infirst-rate style. And another all done by hand, with the ink as fresh asif it had been laid on yesterday, and yet, he told me, it was the work ofsome old monk hundreds of years back. I've always taken a keen interestin literature myself. Hardly anything to my mind can compare with a goodhour's reading after a hard day's work; far better than wasting the wholeevening at a friend's house--and that reminds me, to be sure. I shall begetting into trouble with the wife if I don't make the best of my wayhome and get ready to squander away one of these same evenings! I must beoff, Mr Humphreys.'
'And that reminds _me_,' said Humphreys, 'if I'm to show Miss Cooper themaze tomorrow we must have it cleared out a bit. Could you say a wordabout that to the proper person?'
'Why, to be sure. A couple of men with scythes could cut out a tracktomorrow morning. I'll leave word as I pass the lodge, and I'll tellthem, what'll save you the trouble, perhaps, Mr Humphreys, of having togo up and extract them yourself: that they'd better have some sticks or atape to mark out their way with as they go on.'
'A very good idea! Yes, do that; and I'll expect Mrs and Miss Cooper inthe afternoon, and yourself about half-past ten in the morning.'
'It'll be a pleasure, I'm sure, both to them and to myself, Mr Humphreys.Good night!'
* * * * *
Humphreys dined at eight. But for the fact that it was his first evening,and that Calton was evidently inclined for occasional conversation, hewould have finished the novel he had bought for his journey. As it was,he had to listen and reply to some of Calton's impressions of theneighbourhood and the season: the latter, it appeared, was seasonable,and the former had changed considerably--and not altogether for theworse--since Calton's boyhood (which had been spent there). The villageshop in particular had greatly improved since the year 1870. It was nowpossible to procure there pretty much anything you liked in reason: whichwas a conveniency, because suppose anythink was required of a suddent(and he had known such things before now), he (Calton) could
step downthere (supposing the shop to be still open), and order it in, without heborrered it of the Rectory, whereas in earlier days it would have beenuseless to pursue such a course in respect of anything but candles, orsoap, or treacle, or perhaps a penny child's picture-book, and nine timesout of ten it'd be something more in the nature of a bottle of whisky_you'd_ be requiring; leastways--On the whole Humphreys thought he wouldbe prepared with a book in future.
The library was the obvious place for the after-dinner hours. Candle inhand and pipe in mouth, he moved round the room for some time, takingstock of the titles of the books. He had all the predisposition to takeinterest in an old library, and there was every opportunity for him hereto make systematic acquaintance with one, for he had learned from Cooperthat there was no catalogue save the very superficial one made forpurposes of probate. The drawing up of a _catalogue raisonne_ would be adelicious occupation for winter. There were probably treasures to befound, too: even manuscripts, if Cooper might be trusted.
As he pursued his round the sense came upon him (as it does upon most ofus in similar places) of the extreme unreadableness of a great portion ofthe collection. 'Editions of Classics and Fathers, and Picart's_Religious Ceremonies_, and the _Harleian Miscellany_, I suppose are allvery well, but who is ever going to read Tostatus Abulensis, or Pineda onJob, or a book like this?' He picked out a small quarto, loose in thebinding, and from which the lettered label had fallen off; and observingthat coffee was waiting for him, retired to a chair. Eventually he openedthe book. It will be observed that his condemnation of it rested whollyon external grounds. For all he knew it might have been a collection ofunique plays, but undeniably the outside was blank and forbidding. As amatter of fact, it was a collection of sermons or meditations, andmutilated at that, for the first sheet was gone. It seemed to belong tothe latter end of the seventeenth century. He turned over the pages tillhis eye was caught by a marginal note: '_A Parable of this UnhappyCondition_,' and he thought he would see what aptitudes the author mighthave for imaginative composition. 'I have heard or read,' so ran thepassage, 'whether in the way of _Parable_ or true _Relation_ I leave myReader to judge, of a Man who, like _Theseus_, in the _Attick Tale_,should adventure himself, into a _Labyrinth_ or _Maze_: and such an oneindeed as was not laid out in the Fashion of our _Topiary_ artists ofthis Age, but of a wide compass, in which, moreover, such unknownPitfalls and Snares, nay, such ill-omened Inhabitants were commonlythought to lurk as could only be encountered at the Hazard of one's verylife. Now you may be sure that in such a Case the Disswasions of Friendswere not wanting. "Consider of such-an-one" says a Brother "how he wentthe way you wot of, and was never seen more." "Or of such another" saysthe Mother "that adventured himself but a little way in, and from thatday forth is so troubled in his Wits that he cannot tell what he saw, norhath passed one good Night." "And have you never heard" cries a Neighbour"of what Faces have been seen to look out over the _Palisadoes_ andbetwixt the Bars of the Gate?" But all would not do: the Man was set uponhis Purpose: for it seems it was the common fireside Talk of that Countrythat at the Heart and Centre of this _Labyrinth_ there was a Jewel ofsuch Price and Rarity that would enrich the Finder thereof for his life:and this should be his by right that could persever to come at it. Whatthen? _Quid multa?_ The Adventurer pass'd the Gates, and for a wholeday's space his Friends without had no news of him, except it might be bysome indistinct Cries heard afar off in the Night, such as made them turnin their restless Beds and sweat for very Fear, not doubting but thattheir Son and Brother had put one more to the _Catalogue_ of thoseunfortunates that had suffer'd shipwreck on that Voyage. So the next daythey went with weeping Tears to the Clark of the Parish to order the Bellto be toll'd. And their Way took them hard by the gate of the_Labyrinth_: which they would have hastened by, from the Horrour they hadof it, but that they caught sight of a sudden of a Man's Body lying inthe Roadway, and going up to it (with what Anticipations may be easilyfigured) found it to be him whom they reckoned as lost: and not dead,though he were in a Swound most like Death. They then, who had gone forthas Mourners came back rejoycing, and set to by all means to revive theirProdigal. Who, being come to himself, and hearing of their Anxieties andtheir Errand of that Morning, "Ay" says he "you may as well finish whatyou were about: for, for all I have brought back the Jewel (which heshew'd them, and 'twas indeed a rare Piece) I have brought back that withit that will leave me neither Rest at Night nor Pleasure by Day."Whereupon they were instant with him to learn his Meaning, and where hisCompany should be that went so sore against his Stomach. "O" says he"'tis here in my Breast: I cannot flee from it, do what I may." So itneeded no Wizard to help them to a guess that it was the Recollection ofwhat he had seen that troubled him so wonderfully. But they could get nomore of him for a long Time but by Fits and Starts. However at long andat last they made shift to collect somewhat of this kind: that at first,while the Sun was bright, he went merrily on, and without any Difficultyreached the Heart of the _Labyrinth_ and got the Jewel, and so set out onhis way back rejoycing: but as the Night fell, _wherein all the Beasts ofthe Forest do move_, he begun to be sensible of some Creature keepingPace with him and, as he thought, _peering and looking upon him_ from thenext Alley to that he was in; and that when he should stop, thisCompanion should stop also, which put him in some Disorder of hisSpirits. And, indeed, as the Darkness increas'd, it seemed to him thatthere was more than one, and, it might be, even a whole Band of suchFollowers: at least so he judg'd by the Rustling and Cracking that theykept among the Thickets; besides that there would be at a Time a Sound ofWhispering, which seem'd to import a Conference among them. But in regardof who they were or what Form they were of, he would not be persuaded tosay what he thought. Upon his Hearers asking him what the Cries werewhich they heard in the Night (as was observ'd above) he gave them thisAccount: That about Midnight (so far as he could judge) he heard his Namecall'd from a long way off, and he would have been sworn it was hisBrother that so call'd him. So he stood still and hilloo'd at the Pitchof his Voice, and he suppos'd that the _Echo_, or the Noyse of hisShouting, disguis'd for the Moment any lesser sound; because, when therefell a Stillness again, he distinguish'd a Trampling (not loud) ofrunning Feet coming very close behind him, wherewith he was so dauntedthat himself set off to run, and that he continued till the Dawn broke.Sometimes when his Breath fail'd him, he would cast himself flat on hisFace, and hope that his Pursuers might over-run him in the Darkness, butat such a Time they would regularly make a Pause, and he could hear thempant and snuff as it had been a Hound at Fault: which wrought in him soextream an Horrour of mind, that he would be forc'd to betake himselfagain to turning and doubling, if by any Means he might throw them offthe Scent. And, as if this Exertion was in itself not terrible enough, hehad before him the constant Fear of falling into some Pit or Trap, ofwhich he had heard, and indeed seen with his own Eyes that there wereseveral, some at the sides and other in the Midst of the Alleys. So thatin fine (he said) a more dreadful Night was never spent by MortalCreature than that he had endur'd in that _Labyrinth_; and not that Jewelwhich he had in his Wallet, nor the richest that was ever brought out ofthe _Indies_, could be a sufficient Recompence to him for the Pains hehad suffered.
'I will spare to set down the further Recital of this Man's Troubles,inasmuch as I am confident my Reader's Intelligence will hit the_Parallel_ I desire to draw. For is not this Jewel a just Emblem of theSatisfaction which a Man may bring back with him from a Course of thisWorld's Pleasures? and will not the _Labyrinth_ serve for an Image of theWorld itself wherein such a Treasure (if we may believe the common Voice)is stored up?'
At about this point Humphreys thought that a little Patience would be anagreeable change, and that the writer's 'improvement' of his Parablemight be left to itself. So he put the book back in its former place,wondering as he did so whether his uncle had ever stumbled across thatpassage; and if so, whether it had worked on his fancy so much as to makehim dislike the idea of a maze, and determine to shut up the one in thegar
den. Not long afterwards he went to bed.
The next day brought a morning's hard work with Mr Cooper, who, ifexuberant in language, had the business of the estate at his fingers'ends. He was very breezy this morning, Mr Cooper was: had not forgottenthe order to clear out the maze--the work was going on at that moment:his girl was on the tentacles of expectation about it. He also hoped thatHumphreys had slept the sleep of the just, and that we should be favouredwith a continuance of this congenial weather. At luncheon he enlarged onthe pictures in the dining-room, and pointed out the portrait of theconstructor of the temple and the maze. Humphreys examined this withconsiderable interest. It was the work of an Italian, and had beenpainted when old Mr Wilson was visiting Rome as a young man. (There was,indeed, a view of the Colosseum in the background.) A pale thin face andlarge eyes were the characteristic features. In the hand was a partiallyunfolded roll of paper, on which could be distinguished the plan of acircular building, very probably the temple, and also part of that of alabyrinth. Humphreys got up on a chair to examine it, but it was notpainted with sufficient clearness to be worth copying. It suggested tohim, however, that he might as well make a plan of his own maze and hangit in the hall for the use of visitors.
This determination of his was confirmed that same afternoon; for when Mrsand Miss Cooper arrived, eager to be inducted into the maze, he foundthat he was wholly unable to lead them to the centre. The gardeners hadremoved the guide-marks they had been using, and even Clutterham, whensummoned to assist, was as helpless as the rest. 'The point is, you see,Mr Wilson--I should say 'Umphreys--these mazes is purposely constructedso much alike, with a view to mislead. Still, if you'll foller me, Ithink I can put you right. I'll just put my 'at down 'ere as astarting-point.' He stumped off, and after five minutes brought the partysafe to the hat again. 'Now that's a very peculiar thing,' he said, witha sheepish laugh. 'I made sure I'd left that 'at just over against abramble-bush, and you can see for yourself there ain't no bramble-bushnot in this walk at all. If you'll allow me, Mr Humphreys--that's thename, ain't it, sir?--I'll just call one of the men in to mark the placelike.'
William Crack arrived, in answer to repeated shouts. He had somedifficulty in making his way to the party. First he was seen or heard inan inside alley, then, almost at the same moment, in an outer one.However, he joined them at last, and was first consulted without effectand then stationed by the hat, which Clutterham still considered itnecessary to leave on the ground. In spite of this strategy, they spentthe best part of three-quarters of an hour in quite fruitless wanderings,and Humphreys was obliged at last, seeing how tired Mrs Cooper wasbecoming, to suggest a retreat to tea, with profuse apologies to MissCooper. 'At any rate you've won your bet with Miss Foster,' he said; 'youhave been inside the maze; and I promise you the first thing I do shallbe to make a proper plan of it with the lines marked out for you to goby.' 'That's what's wanted, sir,' said Clutterham, 'someone to draw out aplan and keep it by them. It might be very awkward, you see, anyonegetting into that place and a shower of rain come on, and them not ableto find their way out again; it might be hours before they could be gotout, without you'd permit of me makin' a short cut to the middle: what mymeanin' is, takin' down a couple of trees in each 'edge in a straightline so as you could git a clear view right through. Of course that'd doaway with it as a maze, but I don't know as you'd approve of that.'
'No, I won't have that done yet: I'll make a plan first, and let you havea copy. Later on, if we find occasion, I'll think of what you say.'
Humphreys was vexed and ashamed at the fiasco of the afternoon, and couldnot be satisfied without making another effort that evening to reach thecentre of the maze. His irritation was increased by finding it without asingle false step. He had thoughts of beginning his plan at once; but thelight was fading, and he felt that by the time he had got the necessarymaterials together, work would be impossible.
Next morning accordingly, carrying a drawing-board, pencils, compasses,cartridge paper, and so forth (some of which had been borrowed from theCoopers and some found in the library cupboards), he went to the middleof the maze (again without any hesitation), and set out his materials. Hewas, however, delayed in making a start. The brambles and weeds that hadobscured the column and globe were now all cleared away, and it was forthe first time possible to see clearly what these were like. The columnwas featureless, resembling those on which sundials are usually placed.Not so the globe. I have said that it was finely engraved with figuresand inscriptions, and that on a first glance Humphreys had taken it for acelestial globe: but he soon found that it did not answer to hisrecollection of such things. One feature seemed familiar; a wingedserpent--_Draco_--encircled it about the place which, on a terrestrialglobe, is occupied by the equator: but on the other hand, a good part ofthe upper hemisphere was covered by the outspread wings of a large figurewhose head was concealed by a ring at the pole or summit of the whole.Around the place of the head the words _princeps tenebrarum_ could bedeciphered. In the lower hemisphere there was a space hatched all overwith cross-lines and marked as _umbra mortis_. Near it was a range ofmountains, and among them a valley with flames rising from it. This waslettered (will you be surprised to learn it?) _vallis filiorum Hinnom_.Above and below _Draco_ were outlined various figures not unlike thepictures of the ordinary constellations, but not the same. Thus, a nudeman with a raised club was described, not as _Hercules_ but as _Cain_.Another, plunged up to his middle in earth and stretching out despairingarms, was _Chore_, not _Ophiuchus_, and a third, hung by his hair to asnaky tree, was _Absolon_. Near the last, a man in long robes and highcap, standing in a circle and addressing two shaggy demons who hoveredoutside, was described as _Hostanes magus_ (a character unfamiliar toHumphreys). The scheme of the whole, indeed, seemed to be an assemblageof the patriarchs of evil, perhaps not uninfluenced by a study of Dante.Humphreys thought it an unusual exhibition of his great-grandfather'staste, but reflected that he had probably picked it up in Italy and hadnever taken the trouble to examine it closely: certainly, had he set muchstore by it, he would not have exposed it to wind and weather. He tappedthe metal--it seemed hollow and not very thick--and, turning from it,addressed himself to his plan. After half an hour's work he found it wasimpossible to get on without using a clue: so he procured a roll of twinefrom Clutterham, and laid it out along the alleys from the entrance tothe centre, tying the end to the ring at the top of the globe. Thisexpedient helped him to set out a rough plan before luncheon, and in theafternoon he was able to draw it in more neatly. Towards tea-time MrCooper joined him, and was much interested in his progress. 'Now this--'said Mr Cooper, laying his hand on the globe, and then drawing it awayhastily. 'Whew! Holds the heat, doesn't it, to a surprising degree, MrHumphreys. I suppose this metal--copper, isn't it?--would be an insulatoror conductor, or whatever they call it.'
'The sun has been pretty strong this afternoon,' said Humphreys, evadingthe scientific point, 'but I didn't notice the globe had got hot. No--itdoesn't seem very hot to me,' he added.
'Odd!' said Mr Cooper. 'Now I can't hardly bear my hand on it. Somethingin the difference of temperament between us, I suppose. I dare say you'rea chilly subject, Mr Humphreys: I'm not: and there's where thedistinction lies. All this summer I've slept, if you'll believe me,practically _in statu quo_, and had my morning tub as cold as I could getit. Day out and day in--let me assist you with that string.'
'It's all right, thanks; but if you'll collect some of these pencils andthings that are lying about I shall be much obliged. Now I think we'vegot everything, and we might get back to the house.'
They left the maze, Humphreys rolling up the clue as they went.
The night was rainy.
Most unfortunately it turned out that, whether by Cooper's fault or not,the plan had been the one thing forgotten the evening before. As was tobe expected, it was ruined by the wet. There was nothing for it but tobegin again (the job would not be a long one this time). The cluetherefore was put in place once more and a fresh start made. Bu
tHumphreys had not done much before an interruption came in the shape ofCalton with a telegram. His late chief in London wanted to consult him.Only a brief interview was wanted, but the summons was urgent. This wasannoying, yet it was not really upsetting; there was a train available inhalf an hour, and, unless things went very cross, he could be back,possibly by five o'clock, certainly by eight. He gave the plan to Caltonto take to the house, but it was not worth while to remove the clue.
All went as he had hoped. He spent a rather exciting evening in thelibrary, for he lighted tonight upon a cupboard where some of the rarerbooks were kept. When he went up to bed he was glad to find that theservant had remembered to leave his curtains undrawn and his windowsopen. He put down his light, and went to the window which commanded aview of the garden and the park. It was a brilliant moonlight night. In afew weeks' time the sonorous winds of autumn would break up all thiscalm. But now the distant woods were in a deep stillness; the slopes ofthe lawns were shining with dew; the colours of some of the flowers couldalmost be guessed. The light of the moon just caught the cornice of thetemple and the curve of its leaden dome, and Humphreys had to own that,so seen, these conceits of a past age have a real beauty. In short, thelight, the perfume of the woods, and the absolute quiet called up suchkind old associations in his mind that he went on ruminating them for along, long time. As he turned from the window he felt he had never seenanything more complete of its sort. The one feature that struck him witha sense of incongruity was a small Irish yew, thin and black, which stoodout like an outpost of the shrubbery, through which the maze wasapproached. That, he thought, might as well be away: the wonder was thatanyone should have thought it would look well in that position.
* * * * *
However, next morning, in the press of answering letters and going overbooks with Mr Cooper, the Irish yew was forgotten. One letter, by theway, arrived this day which has to be mentioned. It was from that LadyWardrop whom Miss Cooper had mentioned, and it renewed the applicationwhich she had addressed to Mr Wilson. She pleaded, in the first place,that she was about to publish a Book of Mazes, and earnestly desired toinclude the plan of the Wilsthorpe Maze, and also that it would be agreat kindness if Mr Humphreys could let her see it (if at all) at anearly date, since she would soon have to go abroad for the winter months.Her house at Bentley was not far distant, so Humphreys was able to send anote by hand to her suggesting the very next day or the day after for hervisit; it may be said at once that the messenger brought back a mostgrateful answer, to the effect that the morrow would suit her admirably.
The only other event of the day was that the plan of the maze wassuccessfully finished.
This night again was fair and brilliant and calm, and Humphreys lingeredalmost as long at his window. The Irish yew came to his mind again as hewas on the point of drawing his curtains: but either he had been misledby a shadow the night before, or else the shrub was not really soobtrusive as he had fancied. Anyhow, he saw no reason for interferingwith it. What he _would_ do away with, however, was a clump of darkgrowth which had usurped a place against the house wall, and wasthreatening to obscure one of the lower range of windows. It did not lookas if it could possibly be worth keeping; he fancied it dank andunhealthy, little as he could see of it.
Next day (it was a Friday--he had arrived at Wilsthorpe on a Monday) LadyWardrop came over in her car soon after luncheon. She was a stout elderlyperson, very full of talk of all sorts and particularly inclined to makeherself agreeable to Humphreys, who had gratified her very much by hisready granting of her request. They made a thorough exploration of theplace together; and Lady Wardrop's opinion of her host obviously rosesky-high when she found that he really knew something of gardening. Sheentered enthusiastically into all his plans for improvement, but agreedthat it would be a vandalism to interfere with the characteristiclaying-out of the ground near the house. With the temple she wasparticularly delighted, and, said she, 'Do you know, Mr Humphreys, Ithink your bailiff must be right about those lettered blocks of stone.One of my mazes--I'm sorry to say the stupid people have destroyed itnow--it was at a place in Hampshire--had the track marked out in thatway. They were tiles there, but lettered just like yours, and theletters, taken in the right order, formed an inscription--what it was Iforget--something about Theseus and Ariadne. I have a copy of it, as wellas the plan of the maze where it was. How people can do such things! Ishall never forgive you if you injure _your_ maze. Do you know, they'rebecoming very uncommon? Almost every year I hear of one being grubbed up.Now, do let's get straight to it: or, if you're too busy, I know my waythere perfectly, and I'm not afraid of getting lost in it; I know toomuch about mazes for that. Though I remember missing my lunch--not sovery long ago either--through getting entangled in the one at Busbury.Well, of course, if you _can_ manage to come with me, that will be allthe nicer.'
After this confident prelude justice would seem to require that LadyWardrop should have been hopelessly muddled by the Wilsthorpe maze.Nothing of that kind happened: yet it is to be doubted whether she gotall the enjoyment from her new specimen that she expected. She wasinterested--keenly interested--to be sure, and pointed out to Humphreys aseries of little depressions in the ground which, she thought, marked theplaces of the lettered blocks. She told him, too, what other mazesresembled his most closely in arrangement, and explained how it wasusually possible to date a maze to within twenty years by means of itsplan. This one, she already knew, must be about as old as 1780, and itsfeatures were just what might be expected. The globe, furthermore,completely absorbed her. It was unique in her experience, and she poredover it for long. 'I should like a rubbing of that,' she said, 'if itcould possibly be made. Yes, I am sure you would be most kind about it,Mr Humphreys, but I trust you won't attempt it on my account, I doindeed; I shouldn't like to take any liberties here. I have the feelingthat it might be resented. Now, confess,' she went on, turning and facingHumphreys, 'don't you feel--haven't you felt ever since you came inhere--that a watch is being kept on us, and that if we overstepped themark in any way there would be a--well, a pounce? No? _I_ do; and I don'tcare how soon we are outside the gate.'
'After all,' she said, when they were once more on their way to thehouse, 'it may have been only the airlessness and the dull heat of thatplace that pressed on my brain. Still, I'll take back one thing I said.I'm not sure that I shan't forgive you after all, if I find next springthat that maze has been grubbed up.'
'Whether or no that's done, you shall have the plan, Lady Wardrop. I havemade one, and no later than tonight I can trace you a copy.'
'Admirable: a pencil tracing will be all I want, with an indication ofthe scale. I can easily have it brought into line with the rest of myplates. Many, many thanks.'
'Very well, you shall have that tomorrow. I wish you could help me to asolution of my block-puzzle.'
'What, those stones in the summer-house? That _is_ a puzzle; they are inno sort of order? Of course not. But the men who put them down must havehad some directions--perhaps you'll find a paper about it among youruncle's things. If not, you'll have to call in somebody who's an expertin ciphers.'
'Advise me about something else, please,' said Humphreys. 'Thatbush-thing under the library window: you would have that away, wouldn'tyou?'
'Which? That? Oh, I think not,' said Lady Wardrop. 'I can't see it verywell from this distance, but it's not unsightly.'
'Perhaps you're right; only, looking out of my window, just above it,last night, I thought it took up too much room. It doesn't seem to, asone sees it from here, certainly. Very well, I'll leave it alone for abit.'
Tea was the next business, soon after which Lady Wardrop drove off; but,half-way down the drive, she stopped the car and beckoned to Humphreys,who was still on the front-door steps. He ran to glean her parting words,which were: 'It just occurs to me, it might be worth your while to lookat the underside of those stones. They _must_ have been numbered, mustn'tthey? _Good_-bye again. Home, please.'
* * * * *
The main occupation of this evening at any rate was settled. The tracingof the plan for Lady Wardrop and the careful collation of it with theoriginal meant a couple of hours' work at least. Accordingly, soon afternine Humphreys had his materials put out in the library and began. It wasa still, stuffy evening; windows had to stand open, and he had more thanone grisly encounter with a bat. These unnerving episodes made him keepthe tail of his eye on the window. Once or twice it was a questionwhether there was--not a bat, but something more considerable--that had amind to join him. How unpleasant it would be if someone had slippednoiselessly over the sill and was crouching on the floor!
The tracing of the plan was done: it remained to compare it with theoriginal, and to see whether any paths had been wrongly closed or leftopen. With one finger on each paper, he traced out the course that mustbe followed from the entrance. There were one or two slight mistakes, buthere, near the centre, was a bad confusion, probably due to the entry ofthe Second or Third Bat. Before correcting the copy he followed outcarefully the last turnings of the path on the original. These, at least,were right; they led without a hitch to the middle space. Here was afeature which need not be repeated on the copy--an ugly black spot aboutthe size of a shilling. Ink? No. It resembled a hole, but how should ahole be there? He stared at it with tired eyes: the work of tracing hadbeen very laborious, and he was drowsy and oppressed... But surely thiswas a very odd hole. It seemed to go not only through the paper, butthrough the table on which it lay. Yes, and through the floor below that,down, and still down, even into infinite depths. He craned over it,utterly bewildered. Just as, when you were a child, you may have poredover a square inch of counterpane until it became a landscape with woodedhills, and perhaps even churches and houses, and you lost all thought ofthe true size of yourself and it, so this hole seemed to Humphreys forthe moment the only thing in the world. For some reason it was hateful tohim from the first, but he had gazed at it for some moments before anyfeeling of anxiety came upon him; and then it did come, stronger andstronger--a horror lest something might emerge from it, and a reallyagonizing conviction that a terror was on its way, from the sight ofwhich he would not be able to escape. Oh yes, far, far down there was amovement, and the movement was upwards--towards the surface. Nearer andnearer it came, and it was of a blackish-grey colour with more than onedark hole. It took shape as a face--a human face--a _burnt_ human face:and with the odious writhings of a wasp creeping out of a rotten applethere clambered forth an appearance of a form, waving black arms preparedto clasp the head that was bending over them. With a convulsion ofdespair Humphreys threw himself back, struck his head against a hanginglamp, and fell.
There was concussion of the brain, shock to the system, and a longconfinement to bed. The doctor was badly puzzled, not by the symptoms,but by a request which Humphreys made to him as soon as he was able tosay anything. 'I wish you would open the ball in the maze.' 'Hardly roomenough there, I should have thought,' was the best answer he could summonup; 'but it's more in your way than mine; my dancing days are over.' Atwhich Humphreys muttered and turned over to sleep, and the doctorintimated to the nurses that the patient was not out of the wood yet.When he was better able to express his views, Humphreys made his meaningclear, and received a promise that the thing should be done at once. Hewas so anxious to learn the result that the doctor, who seemed a littlepensive next morning, saw that more harm than good would be done bysaving up his report. 'Well,' he said, 'I am afraid the ball is done for;the metal must have worn thin, I suppose. Anyhow, it went all to bitswith the first blow of the chisel.' 'Well? go on, do!' said Humphreysimpatiently. 'Oh! you want to know what we found in it, of course. Well,it was half full of stuff like ashes.' 'Ashes? What did you make of them?''I haven't thoroughly examined them yet; there's hardly been time: butCooper's made up his mind--I dare say from something I said--that it's acase of cremation... Now don't excite yourself, my good sir: yes, I mustallow I think he's probably right.'
The maze is gone, and Lady Wardrop has forgiven Humphreys; in fact, Ibelieve he married her niece. She was right, too, in her conjecture thatthe stones in the temple were numbered. There had been a numeral paintedon the bottom of each. Some few of these had rubbed off, but enoughremained to enable Humphreys to reconstruct the inscription. It ran thus:
PENETRANS AD INTERIORA MORTIS
Grateful as Humphreys was to the memory of his uncle, he could not quiteforgive him for having burnt the journals and letters of the James Wilsonwho had gifted Wilsthorpe with the maze and the temple. As to thecircumstances of that ancestor's death and burial no tradition survived;but his will, which was almost the only record of him accessible,assigned an unusually generous legacy to a servant who bore an Italianname.
Mr Cooper's view is that, humanly speaking, all these many solemn eventshave a meaning for us, if our limited intelligence permitted of ourdisintegrating it, while Mr Calton has been reminded of an aunt now gonefrom us, who, about the year 1866, had been lost for upwards of an hourand a half in the maze at Covent Gardens, or it might be Hampton Court.
One of the oddest things in the whole series of transactions is that thebook which contained the Parable has entirely disappeared. Humphreys hasnever been able to find it since he copied out the passage to send toLady Wardrop.