CHAPTER XXXI
A STRANGE BEDROOM
The men followed Bess's lead, and as they supped never ceased to makeHenrietta the butt of odious jests and more odious gallantries; until,now pale, now red, the girl was eager to welcome any issue from aposition so hateful. Once, stung beyond reason, she sprang up andwould have fled from them, with burning ears. But Bess seized her bythe shoulders and thrust her back violently into her seat; and,sobered by the force used to her, and terrified lest the men shouldlay hands on her, she resigned herself.
Strangely, the one of the four who said nothing, was the one whom shefeared the most. The gipsy lad did not speak. But his eyes never lefther, and something in their insolent freedom caused her more miserythan the others' coarsest jests. He marked her blushes and pallor, andher one uncontrollable revolt; and like the bird that flutters underthe spell of the serpent that hopes to devour it, she was conscious ofthis watching. She was conscious of it to such an extent, that whenBess cried, "Now it's time you had your bedroom candlestick, peacock!"she did not hear, but sat on as one deaf and blind; as the hare sitsfascinated by the snake's eye.
The gipsy smiled. He understood. But Bess did not, and she tugged thegirl's hair with sufficient roughness to break the spell.
"Up!" she cried. "Up when I speak! Don't dream you're a fine lady anylonger! Wait till I get your bed candlestick--eh, lads?--and you'll bewiser to-morrow, and tamer, too. See, my lass, that's for you!" Andshe held up a small dark-lanthorn, and opening it, kindled the wickfrom one of the candles. "Now come! And do you--no, not you!" to thegipsy, who had stepped forward--"you!" to Giles, "come with me and seeher safely into her bedroom!"
Lunt growled a word or two.
"Stow it!" Bess answered, as she darkened the lanthorn. "It's to be asI say. Here, give me your wrist, girl."
But at that, fear gripped Henrietta. She hung back with a white face.
"What are you going to do with me?" she cried. "What are you----"
"In two minutes you'll see!" Bess retorted. And with a quick movementshe grasped the girl's arm. "And be as wise as I am. Lay hold of herother arm," she continued to Giles. "It's no use to struggle, mylady!--and if she cries out down her at once. You hear, do you?" shecontinued, addressing Henrietta, who with terror found herself ashelpless as a doe in the hound's fangs. "Then mum, and it'll be thebetter for you. Here, do you take the lanthorn," she went on, handingit to Giles, "and I'll carry the victuals. You can hold her?"
"I'll break her wrist if she budges," the man replied. "But, afterall, isn't she as well here?"
"No, she's not!" Bess answered, with decision. "Do you"--toLunt--"open the yard door for us, and stand by till we come in again.No, not you," to the gipsy, who had again stepped forward. "You're tooready, my lad, and I don't trust you."
Fortunately for Henrietta, the sight of the plate of food relieved herof her worst fears. She was not to be done to death, but in allprobability to be consigned to the hiding place which held the boy.And though the prospect was not cheerful, and Bess's manner was crueland menacing, Henrietta felt that if this were the worst she couldface it. She could bear even what the child bore, and by sharing itshardships she might do something to comfort it. Always, too, there wasthe chance of escape; and from the place, be it out-house or stable,in which they held the boy confined, escape must be more feasible thanfrom the house, with its bolts and bars.
She had time to make these calculations between the kitchen and theyard door; through which they half-led, half-pushed her into thenight. With all a woman's natural timidity on finding herself held andhelpless in the dark, she had to put restraint upon herself not to tryto break loose, not to scream. But she conquered herself and let themlead her, unresisting and as one blindfold, where they pleased.
It was clear that they knew the place well. For, though the darknessin the depths of this bowl in the hills was absolute, they did notunmask the lanthorn; but moved confidently for a distance of somefifty yards. The dog, kenneled near, had given tongue as they left thehouse. But once only. And when they paused, all was so still in thefrosty mist that wrapped them about and clutched the throat, thatHenrietta's ear caught the trickle of water near at hand.
"Where are we?" she muttered. "Where are we?" She hung back in sudden,uncontrollable alarm.
"Mum, fool!" Bess hissed in her ear. "Be still, or it will be theworse with you. Have you," she continued, in the same low tone,"undone the door, lad?"
For answer a wooden door groaned on its hinges.
"Right!" Bess murmured. "Bend your head, girl!"
Henrietta obeyed, and pushed forward by an unseen hand, she advancedthree paces, and felt a warmer air salute her cheek. The door groanedagain; she heard a wooden bolt thrust home. Bess let her hand go andunmasked the lanthorn.
Henrietta shivered. She was in a covered well-head, whence the water,after filling a sunken caldron, about which the moss hung in dark,snaky wreaths, escaped under the wooden door. Some yeoman of bygonedays had come to the help of nature, and after enlarging a naturalcavity had enclosed it, to protect the water from pollution. The placewas so small that it no more than held the three who stood in it, norall of them dry-shod. And Henrietta's heart sank indeed before thepossibility of being left to pass the night in this dank cave.
Bess's next movement freed her from this fear. The girl turned thelight on the rough wall, and seizing an innocent-looking wooden peg,which projected from it, pushed the implement upwards. A piece of thewall, of the shape and size of a large oven door, fell downwards andoutwards, as the tail of a cart falls. It revealed a second cavity ofwhich the floor stood a couple of feet higher than the ground on whichthey were. It was very like a spacious bread-oven, though somethinghigher and longer; apparently it had been made in the likeness of one.
But Henrietta did not think of this, or of its shape or its purpose.For the same light, a dim, smoky lamp burning at the far end of theplace, which revealed its general aspect, disclosed a bundle of strawand a forlorn little form.
She gasped. For that any human creature, much more a child, should beconfined in such a place, buried in the bowels of the earth, seemed somonstrous, so shocking, that she could not believe it!
"Oh!" she cried, forgetting for the moment her own position and herown fate, forgetting everything in her horror and pity. "You have notleft the child here! And alone! For shame! For shame!" she continued,turning on them in the heat of her indignation and fearing them nomore than a hunter fears a harmless snake--which excites disgust, butnot terror. "What do you think will happen to you?"
For a moment, strange to say, her indignation cowed them. For a momentthey saw the thing as she saw it; they were daunted. Then Besssneered:
"You don't like the place?"
"For that child?"
"For yourself?"
She was burning with indignation, and for answer she climbed into theplace, and went on her hands and knees to the child's side. She bentover it, and listened to its breathing.
"Is't asleep?" Bess asked. There was a ring of anxiety in her tone.And when Henrietta did not answer, "It's not dead?" she muttered.
"Dead? No," Henrietta replied, with a shudder. "But it's--it's----"
"What?"
"It breathes, but--but----" She drew its head on to her shoulder andpeered more closely into the small white face. "It breathes, but--butwhat is the matter with it? What have you done to it?"--glancingat them suspiciously. For the boy, after returning her look withlack-lustre eyes, had averted his face from the light and from hers.
"It's had a dose," Bess answered roughly--she had had her moment ofalarm. "In an hour or two it will awake. Then you can feed it. Here'sthe porridge. And there's milk. It was fresh this morning and must befresh enough now. Hang the brat, I'm sure it has been trouble enough.Now you can nurse it, my lass, and I wish you joy of it, and a gaygood-night! And before morning you'll know what it costs to rob BessHinkson of her lad!"
"But the ch
ild will die!" Henrietta cried, rising to her feet--shecould stand in the place, but not quite erect. "Stay! Stay! At leasttake----"
"What?"
"Take the child in! And warm and feed it! Oh, I beg you take it!"Henrietta pleaded. "It will die here! It is cold now! I believe it isdying now!"
"Dying, your grand-dam!" the girl retorted, scornfully. "But if wetake it, will you stay?"
"I will!" Henrietta answered. "I will!"
"So you will! And the child, too!" Bess retorted. And she slammed-tothe door. But again, while Henrietta, appalled by her position, stillstared at the place, the shutter fell, and Bess thrust in her dark,handsome face. "See here!" she said. "If you begin to scream andshout, it will be the worse for you, and do you remember that! I shallnot come, but I shall send Saul. He's took a fancy to you, and willfind a way of silencing you, I'll bet!" with an unpleasant smile. "Sonow you know! And if you want his company you'll shout!"
She slammed the shutter to again with that, and Henrietta heard thebolt fall into its place.
The girl stood for a moment, staring and benumbed. But presently hereyes, which at first travelled wildly round, grew more sober. Theyfell on her tiny fellow-prisoner, and, resting on that white,unconscious cheek, on those baby hands clenched in some bygoneparoxysm, they filled slowly with tears.
"I will think of the child! I will think of the child!" she murmured.And, crouching down, she hugged it to her with a sensation of relief,almost of happiness. "I thank God I came! I thank God I am here toprotect it!"
And resolutely averting her eyes from the low roof and oven-likewalls, that, when she dwelt too long on them, seemed, like the famousdungeon of Poe, to contract about her and choke her, she devotedherself to the child; and as she grew scared by its prolonged torpor,she strove to rouse it. At first her efforts were vain. But shepersisted in them. For the vision which she had had in the cell atKendal--of the child holding out pleading hands to her--rose to hermemory. She was certain that at that moment the child had been cryingfor aid. And surely not for nothing, not without purpose, had the crycome to her ears who now by so strange a fate was brought to the boy'sside.
At intervals she felt almost happy in this assurance; as she pressedthe child to her, and watched by the dim, yellow light its slowrecovery from the drug. Her present danger, her present straits, herposition in this underground place, which would have sent some mad,were forgotten. And the past and the future filled her thoughts; andAnthony Clyne. Phrases of condemnation and contempt which _he_ hadused to her recurred, as she nursed his child; and she rejoiced tothink that he must unsay them! The bruises which he had inflictedstill discoloured her wrist, and moved strange feelings in her, whenher eyes fell upon them. But he would repent of his violence soon!Very soon, very soon, and how completely! The thought was sweet toher!
She was in peril, and a week before she had been free as air. But thenshe had been without any prospect of reinstatement, any hope ofregaining the world's respect, any chance of wiping out theconsequences of her mad and foolish act. Now, if she lived, andescaped from this strait, he at least must thank her, he at least mustrespect her. And she was sure, yes, she dared to tell herself,blushing, that if he respected her, he would know how to make theworld also respect her.
But then again she trembled. For there was a darker side. She was inthe power of these wretches; and the worst--the thought paled hercheek--might happen! She held the child more closely to her, androcked it to and fro in earnest prayer. The worst! Yes, the worstmight happen. But then again she fell back on the reflection that _he_was searching for them, and if any could find them he would. He wassearching for them, she was sure, as strenuously, and perhaps withmore vengeful purpose than when he had sought the child alone! By thistime, doubtless, she was missed, and he had raised the country, flungwide the alarm, set a score moving, fired the dalesmen from Bowness toAmbleside. Yes, for certain they were searching for her. And they mustknow, careful as she had been to hide her trail, that she could nothave travelled far; and the scope of the search, therefore, would benarrow, and the scrutiny close. They could hardly fail, she thought,to visit the farm in the hollow; its sequestered and lonely positionmust invite inquiry. And if they entered, a single glance at thedisordered kitchen would inform the searchers that something wasamiss.
So far Henrietta's thoughts, as she clasped the boy to her and stroveto warm him to life against her own body, ran in a current chequeredbut more or less hopeful. But again the supposition would force itselfupon her--the men were desperate, and the woman was moved by a strangehatred of her. What if they fled, and left no sign? What if theyescaped, and left no word of her? The thought was torture! She couldnot endure it. She put the child down, and rising to her knees, shecovered her eyes with her hands. To be buried here underground! To dieof hunger and thirst in this bricked vault, as far from hope and help,from the voices and eyes of men and the blessed light of the sun, asif they had laid her alive in her coffin!
Oh, it was horrible! She could not bear it; she could not bear tothink of it. She sprang, forgetting herself, to her feet, and the blowwhich the roof dealt her, though her thick hair saved her from injury,intensified the feeling. She was buried! Yes, she was buried alive!The roof seemed to be sinking upon her. These brick walls so cunninglyarched, and narrowing a t either end, as the ends of a coffin narrow,were the walls of her tomb! Those faint lines of mortar whichseclusion from the elements had preserved in their freshness,presently she would attack them with her nails in the frenzy of herdespair. She glared about her. The weight, the mass of the hill above,seemed to press upon her. The air seemed to fail her. Was there noway, no way of escape from this living tomb--this grave under the tonsand tons and tons of rock and earth?
And then the child--perhaps she had put him from her roughly, and themovement had roused him--whimpered. And she shook herself free--thankGod--free from the hideous dream that had obsessed her. She rememberedthat the men were not yet fled, nor was she abandoned. She wasleaping, thank Heaven, far above the facts. In a passion of relief sheknelt beside the child, and rained kisses on him, and swore to him, ashe panted with terror in her arms, that he need not fear, that he wassafe now, and she was beside him to take care of him! And that allwould be well if he would not cry. All would be well. For shebethought herself that the child must not know how things stood. Fearand suffering he might know if the worst came; but not the fear, notthe mental torture which she had known for a few moments, and which inso short a time had driven her almost beside herself.
The boy's faculties were still benumbed by the hardships which he hadundergone; perhaps a little by the narcotic he had taken. And thoughhe had seen Henrietta at least a dozen times in the old life, he couldnot remember her. Nevertheless she contrived to satisfy him that shewas a friend, that she meant him well, that she would protect him. Andlittle by little, in spite of the surroundings which drew the child'seyes again and again in terror to the dimly-lit vaulting, on which theshadow of the girl's figure bulked large, his alarm subsided. Hisheart beat less painfully, and his eyes lost in a degree the strainedand pitiful look which had become habitual. But his little limbs stillstarted if the light flickered, or the oil sputtered; and it was longbefore, partly by gentle suasion, partly by caresses, she succeeded ininducing the child--nauseated as he was by the drug--to take food.That done, though she still believed him to be in a critical state,and dreadfully weak, she was better satisfied. And soon, soothed byher firm embrace and confident words, her charge fell into a troubledsleep.
Starvecrow Farm Page 32