Deep Moat Grange Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  FAMILY DISCIPLINE

  As nobody had seen Deep Moat Grange since it had been taken over by Mr.Hobby Stennis and the crew he had gathered about him, it may be as wellto describe it as I saw it--now that it is swept from off the face ofthe earth.

  The old, many-gabled, brick-built house was ivy-covered--in poorrepair, but clean. Curious-looking, stocking-shaped contrivancescowled the chimneys, or such of them as were used. The Grange was setso deep in the woods that when the wind blew with any violence, andapparently from any quarter, it raced and gusted and whirled down thechimneys so as to blow the faggots out on the hearths.

  But without and within the house, it was anything but dirty. That is,so far as I--no great judge, mayhap--could make out. At times JeremyOrrin, who now followed us, laughing and jeering, could work like ademon, clearing up some debris. And Mr. Stennis kept poking his nosehere and there into the outhouses and cart sheds with a curious,dithering thrill of apprehension, not at all like a master coming backto his own house, or looking if his servants' work were well performed.Still, if he looked for dirt, he found none. No, nor anythingelse--except in the great barn, empty of everything (for the horse'soats and bedding were kept in the stable). Here Mr. Stennis, trippingalong with his tread of a frightened hen, lifted a huge curtain of cornsacks, thick and heavy, made after the pattern of those at church doorsabroad, and we went in.

  As soon as we stood on the beaten floor of hard earth, we could nottake our eyes from what we beheld at the upper end. There was a kindof altar, rudely shaped, with a table and a cross, all as if hewn withan axe out of live wood, and painted black. On the table were thelittle black coffins, each small as baby's toys, which we had seen themad women carry through the garden. Each of these had now a candleburning upon it. But the central light, a little larger than the rest,was protected about the flame by a curious contrivance made of redpaper glued upon bits of stick which gave it (from where we stood) theappearance of a crimson lantern.

  For the first time, I think Elsie was now a little frightened. And nowonder, for suddenly we saw something appear in the dark of the bigempty barn, amid a curious pervading smell that I took to be incense,but which might have been cockroaches. I liked bravely for Elsie tofeel like that. For she had been just all too secure and cock-a-hoopup till now.

  What we saw was a row of kneeling figures singing a strange wordlesschant, something between the wind in a score of keyholes and distantdog kennels on a moon-light night. At any rate, it tried the littlegirl's stomach. Because, quite suddenly she pitched forward on myshoulder and cried: "O Joe, get me out of this!"

  Then the next moment, just like thrusting a stick into a wasp's byke,each of the black kneeling figures had snatched her candle and madeafter us.

  I don't know what might have happened. To me it was like a nightmaretill we found ourselves in the open courtyard again. This had seemedcreepy enough to me before. But now it was just like our own backgreen, as homelike and as pleasant, with the open air and the wavingwoods and all.

  Within the barn we heard elricht squeaks and cries, like those of bats.But outside the door, holding the heavy curtain back, so that we couldget out easily, stood a tall, masculine woman with gray, smoothlybrushed hair, dressed in a black blouse and skirt that had somethingunder them which looked like the haircloth covering of the chairs inour second best parlour at home--the kind my father sits in and smokesover his books and cash-box. She was the woman with the short skirt wehad seen watering the lilies when we looked across the black and oilymoat.

  "This is Miss Orrin, my housekeeper," said Elsie's grandfatherautomatically.

  "Aphra Orrin!" said the lady, with a prim intonation, tossing her headlike one hurt in her pride, "one who hath been raised up to be a motherto the orphan and the shelterless, to avenge the witless and those atwhom fools make a mock! _Be quiet, you there!_"

  She sent the door of the barn clashing into its place with her foot,and with the click of the well-oiled wards the screeching behind itredoubled.

  The tall woman sighed and folded her arms across her breast. There wasa certain weary dignity about her, and at first I could not believethat she was really out of her mind, as all in Breckonside averred."They are worse than usual to-day," she said, with a careless nod ofthe head in the direction of the barn, "but that will teach them. Theyshall stay there till I come and fetch them out! No food for such asthey!"

  She turned about and called hurriedly: "Jeremy! Jeremy!"

  Then the big black man with the ringlets, the onyx eyes and gipsy'sskin, came bounding toward us. He seemed to arrive from the directionof the moat, but from much farther round and nearer to the house thanthe bridge by which we had crossed. He was grinning and holding hishands behind him, like a child who fears to be punished. I soonnoticed that he was far more afraid of his sister than he had been ofMr. Stennis and his riding whip.

  "Show your hands!" The tall woman spoke in a tone of command. Jeremystood grinning before her. Then quite suddenly he began to cry. Bigtears rolled down his face.

  "I haven't--I haven't, indeed, Aphra!" he whimpered. "I have only beensailing boats on the moat! Indeed, I have!"

  "_Show your hands!_"

  She spoke so shortly that the great, cleanly built powerful giantfairly quaked before her.

  "I will--I will!" he repeated. "Yes, Aphra!"

  And all the time he was evidently rubbing them together as hard as hecould. I could see his shoulders and elbows working. Then the tallwoman, losing all patience, snatched at his arms and pulled the handssharply forward. The marks of earth between the fingers and about thenails were obvious. But Jeremy still continued to rub off the littlepellets of mould, raising his fingers and looking at them with an airof surprise, as if he wondered how in the world the dirt had got there.

  "You have been digging again!" cried Miss Orrin; "this is the thirdtime, and you are well aware of the penalty!"

  "Oh, no, no!" cried the big man, catching her by the skirt, which sheswept away from him, the tears fairly rolling down his cheeks. "Whipme, if you like, Aphra, but----"

  "Go and shut yourself up in the dark hole," she said firmly; "see youshut the door tight. I shall come round and lock it after a little!"

  The great lout went away _boo-hooing_ like a "soft" schoolboy whom asturdier comrade has sent home provided with something substantial totell his mother. Anything more unlike the idea which we, in commonwith all Breckonside, had formed of the dreaded "mounster" of the MoatGrange, could not well be imagined.

  Then his sister turned to us, and in the most conventional way possibleshe asked us to go into the house "to drink a dish of tea!"

  It was hardly the hour for this, but our long morning's jaunt in theopen air and varied excitements had not at all taken away ourappetites. We were literally as hungry as hunters.

  I think, if Elsie and I had kept all our wits about us, that we shouldhave refused such an invitation. But children often do very boldthings through sheer thoughtlessness and curiosity. And we were littlemore than children, for all our age.

  But it all turned out well for us--indeed, even better than that. Wehad supped so full of surprises that day, that at this point I thinkhardly anything would have sufficed us or come up to our demands!Perhaps an introduction to a company of sheeted ghosts, or aninvitation to take afternoon tea with blood-boltered Banquo, might havefilled the bill of our expectation.

  As it fell out, nothing was ever more dull and orderly, Miss Orrinshowed us into a neatly arranged parlour, with the usual stuffy smellfrom unopened windows. She left us a minute alone to examine theknick-knacks, while she went elsewhere, doubtless to arrange matterswith her erring brother Jeremy. We were still in the dark as to thecrime he had committed, and, each remaining seated on the edge of achair, looked about us curiously, with our ears at a permanent fullcock.

  Miss Orrin had pulled up the blinds, and through them we could see thewide green lawn, broken here and there
by the dense plots of lilies,which almost formed groves in some places. The parlour was a largeroom, covered with faded yellow paper, bearing traces of a blue flower,perhaps wreaths of forget-me-nots, but all so faint that it was only astrong imagination which could again body them forth. The furniturewas chiefly of old black oak, with an extraordinary number of chestswith various ornamental work round the walls. These had been covered,presumably by Miss Orrin, with bright-coloured chintz of a salmon-pinkedged with frills and furbelows which somehow cheapened the high,antique mantelpiece, the quaint corner cupboards, and the tall,high-backed open chairs ranged at equal intervals about the room.

  I am not sure if I have described all this aright. For, indeed, thevague stuffy smell took us by the throats. Both Elsie and I were gladwhen Mr. Stennis came back and bustled about, sniffing, growling, andopening windows and doors.

  One of these, that to the left of the wide fireplace, gave into a smallroom full of curious wooden machinery to which our eyes were instantlyattracted.

  "The old weaver's hand does not forget its cunning--the trade by whichhe made his siller!" said Mr. Stennis, with a faint shadow of a smile,the first we had seen cross his anxious face.

  He showed us beautiful pieces of ornamental fabric, upon one of whichhe was at present engaged, and even entered into a long explanation asto his methods of working. Finally he sat down before the intricatespider's web, and with a skilled click and wheeze sent the shuttleflying for our benefit. I stood back a good way, but Elsie remainedclose beside him. And I could not have believed it, if I had not seenit--how in the joy of work the "laird" died out of the man, and thelittle bow-backed weaver came again plain to the eye.

  I turned about, conscious of some unknown interruption. There was afaint creaking of the door, and through it I could see Miss Orrin, atray with tea dishes in her hands, glaring speechlessly at Elsie. Theyoung girl had laid an unconscious hand on her grandfather's arm. Shewas asking him to explain something in the manipulation. But on theface of the woman who stood without, watching, I surprised cold Death,and as it were, Hell following after.

  I felt that we had no real business in that house, neither Elsie nor I,and that the sooner I got her safe back to Nance Edgar's, the betterpleased I should be. But Elsie was a difficult girl to shift till shetook it into her own head. Then with a beaming smile Miss Orrin cameinto the parlour and began to lay the cloth.

  "Ye will be hungry, bairns," she said, with a curious nervous laugh,which reminded us unpleasantly of her sisters.

  "Yes!" we answered together. But somehow I wasn't. The hunger hadleft me.