Volume II Part 19 (1/2)
Then came a heavy spadeful of earth again from the narrow house.
Another shovelful produced the following doggerel:--
”Housen, and castles, and kings decay; But the biggins we big last till doomus-day.”
Some more coa.r.s.e and less intelligible jargon followed, which it is not needful that we repeat. Again he threw forth a burden of more than ordinary bulk, resting from his labours during the following more elaborate ditty:--
”Dark and dreary though it be, Thou shalt all its terrors dree: Dungeon dark, where none complain, Nor 'scape to tell its woe and pain.”
Again he bent him to his task, and again the earth went rolling forth, accompanied by something like the following verse:--
”Though I dig for him that be living yet, O'er this narrow gulf he shall never get; The mouth gapes wide that 'Enough' ne'er cries; Each clod that I fling on his bosom lies; In darkness and coldness it rests on thee, With the last stroke that falls thy doom shall be!”
With increasing energy did he work on, as though to accelerate the fate of his victim. Marian felt herself on the brink of the tomb, and its icy touch was perceptible through every part of her frame.
The mystic chant was again audible, and more distinct than before--
”The charm is wound, and this stroke shall be The last, when it falls, of his destiny; Save he sell to another his birthright here, Then the buyer shall buy both grave and bier.”
Uttering this malediction, he scrambled out of the grave, and suddenly stood before the astonished maiden, who shuddered as she beheld the unshapely outline of a form which she instantly recognised.
He did not seem a whit surprised or startled, though he could not have been aware previously that a listener was nigh.
”What ho, wench!” said he; ”art watching for a husband?” His sharp shrill voice grated on her ear like the cry of the screech-owl.
”I came to meet thee!” said she firmly. He broke forth into a loud laugh at this reply, more terrible than the most violent expression of hate or malignity. No wonder, in those ages, that it was supposed to be the operation of some demon, animate in his form, controlling and exercising the bodily functions to his own malignant designs.
”Where is he whom I seek?” inquired the maiden.
”Ask the clods of the valley, and the dust unto which man departs!” he replied, pointing significantly to the gulf at his feet.
”Nay,” said Marian, apparently to humour the fantastical turn of his ideas; ”thou knowest if he sell that grave to another, he shall escape, and the doom shall be foregone.”
”Ay, la.s.sie; but there be no fools now-a-days, I wot, to buy a man's grave over his head for the sake of a bargain!”
”I warrant thee now, Steenie, but thou hast hidden him hereabout.” She said this in as careless and indifferent a tone as she could well a.s.sume.
”I am but a-keeping of him safe till his time comes. Neither priest nor Presbyterian shall cheat me out of him. He's mine as sure as that grave gives not back its prey.”
”He is living, I trow?”
”Good wot, I reckon so; but living men may die; and this pick never, for man or woman, opened a mouth that was left to gape long without victuals.”
”Thou wouldst not harm him?”
”I'd not hurt the hair on a midge-tail, though it stung me. But his doom was shown me yesternight,” said he, lowering his voice to a whisper; ”and I would have him laid here in consecration, that the devil get not his bones to pick, for neither priest nor Puritan can bless the ground now-a-days like unto this.”
Whether the cause of his anxiety was really a wish to provide a hallowed resting-place for the cavalier, or this pretence was merely to cover some ulterior purposes of his own, the maiden was left without a clue to form any plausible conjecture. She had heard sufficient, however, to ascertain that he was in some way or another accessory to the disappearance of Egerton, and that in all likelihood he knew the retreat of the unfortunate captive.
A woman's wits are proverbially sharpened by exigencies, and Marian was not slow in obeying their impulse.
”Where art thou abiding? I would fain speak with thee to-morrow touching thy condition, for thou hast been much estranged from us of late.”