Part 20 (1/2)

”Do 'ee knaw who made the light?”

”No,” I replied. ”I have been wondering what it meant.”

”Iss, and you've bin tellin' Miss Ruth 'bout it, aint 'ee, Maaster Roger? I'll tell 'ee what you've zid (seen). You've zid Betsey Fraddam, my dear, and you do knaw what that do main.”

”I know what foolish people say it means,” I replied, ”but I do not know what it really means.”

”Do'ant 'ee? But you will. 'Tis nearly come, Maaster Roger. You defied and got vexed with they who would kip this from comin'; but 'tis comin' now!”

”What's coming now?”

”Trewinion's curse,” she screamed.

”You hag,” I cried, aroused into a pa.s.sion. ”You have ill-wished me.”

”Ill-wished 'ee? No, I ain't, and that you do knaw. We can't ill-wish a eldest son; but the curse es comin', and that we could have kipt off.”

”See there, see there!” she continued, pointing towards the great forbidding-looking rock, ”do 'ee zee the light? I can!”

Again I saw the flickering light on the rock between the great p.r.o.ngs, and my flesh crept with fear.

”Ted'n too late, is it?” she said. ”Come to th' ould plaace to-night at the same time, and we may do summin.”

”Do you think I'm a fool?” I said. ”You cannot gull me with your stories, for I know your tricks.”

She laughed in my face, revealing gums that were toothless save for one yellow fang that rested on her lower lip.

”Oa, I remember it, Maaster Roger,” she said. ”Ould Debrah do knaw the curse. La me zee, how do it go?--

His power be given to another, And he be crushed by younger brother, Then his son, though born the first, By the people shall be cursed; And for generations three Trewinion's heirs shall cursed be!

The old woman recited these lines glibly, as though they had been often on her lips, and she chuckled as she repeated them.

”Go home,” I said, angrily, ”and trouble me no longer with your ugly face.”

”Iss! Iss! I'll go,” she screamed; ”but there'll be black days for you. Ah, yer brother'll be wise if you be'ant. Ah, a Trewinion disgraced, starvin', ruined!”

I turned savagely towards her, but old as she was she nimbly stepped out of my way, and pointed to the five-p.r.o.nged rock.

”The light es gone, and Maaster Roger's hope es gone, unless he do come to Betsy Fraddam's cave at midnight, and there 'ee'll zee strange things.”

”You'll suffer for this, Deborah,” I said, almost beside myself.

”Zee where you're standin',” she screamed, ”and think of what you zeed three years agone, when you went to see the pa.s.sen.”

I looked, and, to my horror, I remembered that long years before I had on this very spot seen a figure in white, which had disappeared on the edge of the cliff.

I was so astonished that for a minute I did not move, and when I recovered my senses Deborah had gone, although I thought I heard her croaking, mocking laugh a little distance away.