CHAPTER VII
THE DARK TOWER
The morning broke with a clear sky, proving that, whatever hisshortcomings, Ninian Guyse was a good weather-prophet. Exactly what hepredicted had happened. About midnight the wind dropped, the snowceased, and now the frost gripped the ground like iron, and the villagelay surrounded by radiant whiteness, reflecting the first sunbeam on itscrystalline surface.
Flossie awoke Miss Innes just as day was breaking, to say that "MusterNin" begged that she would be quick, as he meant to drive her to thePele in Mr. Askwith's sleigh as soon as they had breakfasted. No heavyluggage could be taken, but that could be sent for as soon as the roadspermitted.
There was an exhilaration in the air which made Olwen feel optimistic,in spite of the biting cold which nipped her as soon as she crept outfrom the warmth of her bed. Dressing with no unnecessary delay, shehastened down to the parlour, whence came an appetising odour offrizzled "rashers."
Young Guyse was standing before the fire, apparently making himselfagreeable to Flossie in the way she understood, while she set the teapotand the dishes of hot cake on the table.
He greeted Miss Innes with an odd mixture of bravado and nervousness, asthough anxious to conciliate, conscious that he had somehow failed to doso, yet in his heart convinced that the swaggering male attitude must bethe right one to adopt towards any young woman.
Her greeting was as frosty as the morning, and it seemed to depress him,for he sat down to table, accepted his cup of tea from her in silence,and ate for some time without speaking.
"Sorry," he remarked at length, apropos of nothing, "sorry we didn't hitit off better last night."
"Oh, pray don't trouble; what does it matter?" said she cheerfully.
He frowned impatiently. "We've got to live in the same house," hegrowled, with a shake of the shoulders expressing the irritation of theman wholly unaccustomed to snubs.
"Yes, but I am to be your mother's companion, not yours," she returnedwith a dry little smile.
His green eyes had a resentful light. "You've taken a regular grudgeagainst me, I do believe," he muttered, "and I only meant to rag you abit. Women can't take a joke."
"You see, women of my class are not accustomed to be ragged bystrangers," she explained with a condescending kindness. "It seems thatyou did not know that. However, as I understand you to be apologising,we will say no more about it."
He stared at her more openly than he had done hitherto--glared at hermight be nearer the truth. The sun sent a shaft of light in at theplant-blocked window, and showed her thick black brows and lashes, andtheir piquant contrast to her fair head. "If I hadn't your own word forit that you are a bank clerk," said he, "I should have taken you for aschoolmarm. You've given me a bad mark. Hadn't you better set me animposition? I might write out 'Keep off the grass' fifty times, don'tyou think?"
She smiled patiently. "Don't be absurd, please, but tell me how long itought to take us to reach the Pele."
"About two hours"--snappishly. "Afraid you won't like it when you getthere."
"I'm determined to like it if I can. I hate to fail."
"So do I," he flung back. "I'm not used to it either."
"Indeed!" She could not resist the temptation to say that, with an airof innocent surprise, considering him with an appraising glance that themost conceited of men could not have thought flattering. "If I hadn'tyour own word for it that you are a gentleman, I should have taken youfor a--well, for something else," she remarked; and then, as he startedand crimsoned, she let her laughter have its way. "What's sauce for thegoose is sauce for the gander, sir," she said.
Suddenly he, too, laughed. "That's one to you," he conceded in a sortof unwilling admiration. "Well, I suppose it's up to me to make yourevise your impressions, isn't it?"
"Impressions of you? Oh, why? I'm not sure that I have any," shereplied briskly, pushing back her chair and rising. "I must be off andmake ready for our start," said she.
This time he accepted the rebuff as final and made no answer. Olwendeparted to make her arrangements, as it seemed likely that she mighthave to wait some days for the arrival of her trunk. She went to theback kitchen, where her luggage was, and asked Flossie to help herunlock a box and take out a change of linen and an evening frock. Whilethey were thus busy Deb came in and sent Flossie away, saying that shewould help Miss Innes herself. She provided a big cardboard box to holdthe extra things, and while Olwen was packing them she said gruffly:
"You only coom for a visit oop t' Pele, loov, or is there talk of yourbiding there longer? You may think I taake a liberty, but 'tis no idlecuriosity in me."
Olwen looked at the hard-featured, honest face and answered at once,explaining that she was on a month's trial, and was to stay on if shesuited.
Deb listened gravely. "I'm not one to make mischief," said she, "and Ishouldn't open me mooth, only I can see that you coom of a good home anda good breed. They're queer folk oop t' Pele, what with the nigger womanand all. Madam, she's a poor creature, and Muster Nin's a bit wild, asyou see. Go careful, loov, and you'll be all right, but keep Muster Ninin his plaace."
Olwen was a little pale. "Thank you, Mrs. Askwith; it is kind of you towarn me. I have to earn my living, and I suppose I should finddrawbacks everywhere of some kind. The--the Guyses are all _right_, arethey not? There is nothing against them, I meant."
Mrs. Askwith's "No" came after a slight hesitation. She repeated itafter reflection. "No, nothing against them. They are of the oldgentry, and near kin to his lordship, poor though they be. You're notto be thinkin' over mooch of what I've said, loov. Only, go canny whileyou're there. If the Indian takes against you, you'll not be stoppingvery long."
Olwen sighed. "I'm afraid Mr. Guyse has taken against me, as you say,already," she replied; and as she recalled Nin's assertion of the ayah'sdevotion to himself, she thought she stood small chance of favour inthat direction. "Well," she concluded, "it can't be helped. I must tryand stay if I can. You will laugh if you see me back here at the end ofmy month."
"Or before," said Deb, with an admiring glance at the resolute littleface. "You've got a home of your own, loov?" she asked anxiously.
"Oh, yes, indeed. I shall not stay if things are unpleasant," was thequick reply; and the assurance seemed to console the good woman. Ninbegan to shout for Miss Innes, and they had to break off talk and hastento the door, where the sleigh stood waiting.
Olwen took a cordial leave of the Askwiths, who all assembled to see thedeparture. Just as she was being tucked warmly in under a fur robe Dr.Balmayne was seen crossing the square.
"Here's the doctor, come to return your knife," said she to young Guyse,who was taking his place beside her.
"Damn him!" said the young man quietly, checking his horse unwillinglyas the other hurried up.
Seen by daylight, Balmayne was a good-looking man, youngish, with keenblue eyes and closely clipped fair beard. He gave back the knife andsaid a few words about the violence of the storm, his eyes fixed withinterest upon the young lady in the motor veil of such a particularlycharming shade of blue. As Ninian was evidently determined not tointroduce him, he turned pointedly to her and addressed her direct."You will have a cold drive," he said.
She bowed and would have replied, but Nin whipped up the horse and itsprang forward. "Sorry can't stop. Deloraine will take cold," he criedas they rushed off.
Balmayne was left standing by the porch of the Seven Spears.
Olwen sat silent, her mouth a little compressed, while they sped out ofthe town and took a winding moorland road. The snow was quite hard, themotion of sleighing, which was new to her, very pleasant. The bare,heaving country rose grandly on all sides. Caryngston disappearedbeneath them incredibly soon. They were off together into the unknown,and her mind was working uneasily about the memory of Deb's words ofcaution.
Presently her driver turned with a short laugh. "Another sp
ecimen of mybeastly manners, eh? I'm not going to be pushed into introducing you tothat chap just because he comes cadging for it. He can ask 'em at theSeven Spears who you are and what's your business if he's so anxious toknow."
She made no reply, not knowing what to say.
"Too angry to speak?" he demanded pleasantly.
"Angry--why should I be angry?"
"Because I wouldn't introduce that chap to you."
"Whether or no you will introduce me to your friends must be a matterfor you and Mrs. Guyse to decide. It can have nothing to do with me."
"Tosh! I do seem to have put you on your high horse."
She was determined not to go on wrangling with him, and she held hertongue. When at last she spoke, after some interval, it was to ask hima question about the country they were passing through. He pointed outa few landmarks to her, but without much interest; and they drove mostlyin silence until they came in sight of a square stone tower standing upon the skyline, grey among the whiteness of the setting.
"That's the Pele," said ha "Ever seen one before!"
"Never; but I have been told that Guysewyke is fine--that there is onlyone better along the border."
"Who told you that?"
"Oh, a friend at Bramforth."
"Well, the difference between ours and everybody else's is that we livein ours and nobody else does anything so lunatic. Our reason is anexcellent one. It is simply that we can't afford to live anywhere else.The Guyse who first built this had an eye to a military situation, asyou will understand when we get closer."
As they drew swiftly nearer, it could be seen that they were alsoapproaching the westward edge of the high plateau across which they weredriving. Beyond the Pele there seemed to be a drop of many hundred feetin the level of the country, and they went as though making straight forthe verge, until they came, on the very brink, to a gateway with stonesideposts of square, rough-hewn blocks, surmounted by two panthersholding the Guyse shield under their paws.
Ninian checked his horse, alighted and opened the gate. They passedthrough upon what seemed at first like a narrow bridge, bordered oneither hand by a low parapet of stone, with, a precipice beneath on bothsides. As he fastened the gate behind them, Olwen looked about her, andcould hardly believe her eyes.
The whole western edge of the plateau they had just left was a steep,almost precipitous cliff. A couple of hundred yards from its vergethere arose out of the valley below a small conical hill, connected withthe high land behind only by a narrow natural causeway, which was butjust wide enough to carry the approach. Upon this isolated hill,forming an impregnable stronghold, the Pele was perched. No wonder thatit had withstood the onslaughts of the ages.
The summit of the hill had been levelled and cut square. Bound it, likea crown, a quadrangular fortress wall had been built, enclosing acourtyard. At the western end of the causeway, where it met thefortress wall, was a small tower, or gatehouse, with an arch passingbeneath. The gate was open; one saw through into what was insummer-time a circumscribed bit of garden ground. The Pele itselfoccupied the northwestern quarter of the enclosure.
Under the gatehouse arch, a sturdy short man with the black hair, highcheekbones and small, twinkling dark eyes of his Pictish origin, wasbusily shovelling away the drifts. He had worked diligently, andsucceeded in making the passage clear, so that the sleigh, with the ladyin it, could enter the quadrangle.
He greeted his master with an outburst of dialect too broad for thestranger to understand. Evidently some damage to property had been theresult of the storm, for he pointed along the river valley, above whichthe stronghold towered. His tidings seemed to vex Ninian.
The girl was so occupied in observing the remarkable surroundings inwhich she found herself that all anxiety concerning her own reception orcomfort faded from her mind. Seen from within, the fortress wall showeditself as on two sides, little more than a shell. On the eastern side,where the gatehouse was, there were still roofed and habitable quarters,in which, as she learned later, Ezra Baxter and his wife dwelt, theremainder serving as stables.
The Baxters, with the ayah, formed the entire staff at Guysewyke.Against the western wall, south of the Pele itself, was a small stoneone-storey erection which had been built within the last fifty years asa kitchen. Along the south side were outhouses, fenced off by a trellisfrom the garden, and here, she guessed, madam kept her fowls.
Guyse, who had been collecting her things while Ezra talked, now turnedtowards the tower. "All right," he said to his man, "I'll come downwith you as soon as I've had my dinner. Come along, Miss Innes."
The low doorway of the Pele Tower was rudely arched, Saxon fashion, withtwo long stones inclined towards each other at an angle, like a V upsidedown. The door itself, of grey oak with big black nails and iron ring,dated evidently from many centuries back. Guyse pushed it open,shouting for Sunia at the top of his voice.
Olwen found herself in a strange, almost terrifying place.
It was not unlike a cellar, the walls being of huge ashlar blocks ofstone, and the small windows deeply splayed within, narrowing tosomething not much larger than a loophole. The roof was of stone,arched in what is known as a barrel vault. Evidently, in feudal times,the whole ground floor of the tower had been one chamber. Now a screen,or wall of black oak panelling, divided it in two, the northern half,through which they had entered, being a vestibule, the inner half,partly visible through an open door, seemed to be better lighted, andshowed a glimpse of a table set for dinner.
On the hall floor were thick rugs; an iron stove, though its effect wasnot esthetic, made the place pleasantly warm, and there was a gate-legtable, covered with an untidy collection of whips, gloves,clothes-brushes, and so on.
There was a slight rattling of the curtains which covered the door bywhich they had entered, and a woman emerged, without noise.
She was small and withered, and wore a dull crimson saree over her headand draped about her shoulders. Below it appeared a thick wadded jacketand petticoat. Her eyes were like clear, deep coffee, and her skin likethe same coffee with cream added.
"Sunia, this is Miss Innes," said the master of the house, in a tonewhich to Olwen suggested apology. It was as though he said, "This isall--hardly worth the trouble of fetching!" "How is my mother? Readyto see her?" he went on hurriedly.
"Madam well," said a soft, clear little voice. "She like see MisseeEenis. I take her up, then you have your deener. You hungry, mysahib--eh?"
"Hungry! As a wolf! Nearly ate Miss Innes on the way up. Some stormlast night--what? Bad enough in Caryngston. Here, Ezra tells me, itwas prime. Miss Innes wanted to come up last night in the dark, but Iwasn't taking any risks."
"Poor Missee have a dreadful journey," murmured the ayah, her meltingeyes on Olwen, who stood by the fire, her foot held to the blaze. "Youcome with me--yes?" she said, in the accents of one coaxing a shy child.Olwen met her gaze and smiled, with a quick sensation of liking, as shefollowed her guide to the curtain by the door. She found that the wallwas double, and in its thickness a corkscrew stair twisted upward. Onthe next floor, although passages branched right and left, they did notpause, but ascended higher. On the second floor they went a little wayalong the narrow and icy cold stone passage, and the ayah, knocking,ushered her into a sitting-room. It was quite small, occupying only afourth of the floor space, or being half as big as the vestibule. Agood-sized casement window had been inserted, the stone walls had beenplastered and hung with a light flowery paper. Near the fireplace, inan arm-chair, was seated a middle-aged woman, spare in figure, withfaded fair hair and melancholy eyes. She rose as the girl entered, andsaid, with a little laugh of embarrassment, "Oh, here you are! How doyou do?"
Olwen responded as cordially as she could, expressing her regret thatMrs. Guyse should have been put to the trouble and expense which thedelay at the inn involved. "There was no snow at all when I left home,"said she, "or I would not have started."
"The snow is often ver
y bad here," said Mrs. Guyse languidly. "Quite adifferent climate. We did not expect you to come on last night, but Ihope Mrs. Askwith made you comfortable; and then, you had my son tocheer you up. Very amusing, isn't he?"
There was something peculiar in the tone in which this was said, almostas though Ninian's mother were sneering. Olwen replied quiteconventionally that Mr. Guyse had been very kind. She felt that heranswer was listened for, not only by the lady but the ayah also; butneither seemed able to make much of it.
"It's dull for my son and me here in winter-time," went on Mrs. Guyse."I hope you will brighten us up."
"I want very much to be useful," replied the girl, "and it will be apleasure to catalogue the library."
"To catalogue the library?" echoed the lady, with an air of blanksurprise.
"You said that was one of the things you wished me to do," began thegirl, puzzled.
"Dear me, yes, of course. My memory grows bad. You don't look very bigor strong."
"I'm not big, but I think I am very strong. For three years I have goneto work in all weathers, and only once in all that time been absent onaccount of illness."
"Well, we shall see. In the meantime, we had better have dinner as soonas you are ready. Ayah will show you your room."
"Up more stairs, Missee," said the Hindu softly. On the top floor werelikewise four rooms, but not exactly the same size. This floor wasprobably an addition to the more ancient lower part. They came first toa kind of landing, or ante-room, small but adequately lighted.
Beyond was a larger room, facing to the west and south, and just nowfull of sunshine. The walls were not plastered, but covered up towithin a couple of feet of the rafters, with tapestry hangings, abovewhich point the naked stone was visible.
There was a black oak bedstead, its canopy upheld by the fourevangelists, quaintly carved. Two or three oak chests stood round thewalls. There was a small table with a still smaller mirror upon it; anda camp washingstand looked like a new importation. The cold made thegirl flinch, but she comforted herself with the thought that cold is athing to which one becomes accustomed. In fact, as she gazed around,her main preoccupation was the wonder as to how the articles offurniture had been conveyed into the room up the twisting stair by whichshe had ascended.
The Lonely Stronghold Page 7