robert falconer-第82章

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flaming　eyes　of　a　well…known　four…horse　coach　come　fluctuating

towards　them；　Robert　insisted　on　their　getting　up　and　riding　the

rest　of　the　way。



'But　I　can't　afford　it；'　said　Ericson。



'But　I　can；'　said　Robert。



'I　don't　doubt　it；'　returned　Ericson。　'But　I　owe　you　too　much

already。'



'Gin　ever　we　win　hameI　mean　to　the　heart　o'　hameye　can　pay　me

there。'



'There　will　be　no　need　then。'



'Whaur's　the　need　than　to　mak　sic　a　wark　aboot　a　saxpence　or　twa

atween　this　and　that？　　I　thocht　ye　cared　for　naething　that　time　or

space　or　sense　could　grip　or　measure。　　Mr。　Ericson；　ye're　no　half

sic　a　philosopher　as　ye　wad　set　up　for。Hillo！'



Ericson　laughed　a　weary　laugh；　and　as　the　coach　stopped　in　obedience

to　Robert's　hail；　he　scrambled　up　behind。



The　guard　knew　Robert；　was　pitiful　over　the　condition　of　the

travellers；　would　have　put　them　inside；　but　that　there　was　a　lady

there；　and　their　clothes　were　wet；　got　out　a　great　horse…rug　and

wrapped　Robert　in　it；　put　a　spare　coat　of　his　own；　about　an　inch

thick；　upon　Ericson；　drew　out　a　flask；　took　a　pull　at　it；　handed　it

to　his　new　passengers；　and　blew　a　vigorous　blast　on　his　long　horn；

for　they　were　approaching　a　desolate　shed　where　they　had　to　change

their　weary　horses　for　four　fresh　thorough…breds。



Away　they　went　once　more；　careering　through　the　gathering　darkness。

It　was　delightful　indeed　to　have　to　urge　one　weary　leg　past　the

other　no　more；　but　be　borne　along　towards　food；　fire；　and　bed。　　But

their　adventures　were　not　so　nearly　over　as　they　imagined。　　Once

more　the　hail　fell　furiouslyhuge　hailstones；　each　made　of　many；

half…melted　and　welded　together　into　solid　lumps　of　ice。　　The

coachman　could　scarcely　hold　his　face　to　the　shower；　and　the　blows

they　received　on　their　faces　and　legs；　drove　the　thin…skinned；

high…spirited　horses　nearly　mad。　　At　length　they　would　face　it　no

longer。　　At　a　turn　in　the　road；　where　it　crossed　a　brook　by　a　bridge

with　a　low　stone　wall；　the　wind　met　them　right　in　the　face　with

redoubled　vehemence；　the　leaders　swerved　from　it；　and　were　just

rising　to　jump　over　the　parapet；　when　the　coachman；　whose　hands　were

nearly　insensible　with　cold；　threw　his　leg　over　the　reins；　and

pulled　them　up。　　One　of　the　leaders　reared；　and　fell　backwards；　one

of　the　wheelers　kicked　vigorously；　a　few　moments；　and　in　spite　of

the　guard　at　their　heads；　all　was　one　struggling　mass　of　bodies　and

legs；　with　a　broken　pole　in　the　midst。　　The　few　passengers　got　down；

and　Robert；　fearing　that　yet　worse　might　happen　and　remembering　the

lady；　opened　the　door。　　He　found　her　quite　composed。　　As　he　helped

her　out；



'What　is　the　matter？'　asked　the　voice　dearest　to　him　in　the

worldthe　voice　of　Miss　St。　John。



He　gave　a　cry　of　delight。　　Wrapped　in　the　horse…cloth；　Miss　St。　John

did　not　know　him。



'What　is　the　matter？'　she　repeated。



'Ow；　naething；　memnaething。　　Only　I　doobt　we　winna　get　ye　hame　the

nicht。'



'Is　it　you；　Robert？'　she　said；　gladly　recognizing　his　voice。



'Ay；　it's　me；　and　Mr。　Ericson。　　We'll　tak　care　o'　ye；　mem。'



'But　surely　we　shall　get　home！'



Robert　had　heard　the　crack　of　the　breaking　pole。



''Deed；　I　doobt　no。'



'What　are　we　to　do；　then？'



'Come　into　the　lythe　（shelter）　o'　the　bank　here；　oot　o'　the　gait　o'

thae　brutes　o'　horses；'　said　Robert；　taking　off　his　horse…cloth　and

wrapping　her　in　it。



The　storm　hissed　and　smote　all　around　them。　　She　took　Robert's　arm。

Followed　by　Ericson；　they　left　the　coach　and　the　struggling　horses；

and　withdrew　to　a　bank　that　overhung　the　road。　　As　soon　as　they　were

out　of　the　wind；　Robert；　who　had　made　up　his　mind；　said；



'We　canna　be　mony　yairds　frae　the　auld　hoose　o'　Bogbonnie。　　We　micht

win　throu　the　nicht　there　weel　eneuch。　　I'll　speir　at　the　gaird；　the

minute　the　horses　are　clear。　　We　war　'maist　ower　the　brig；　I　heard

the　coachman　say。'



'I　know　quite　well　where　the　old　house　is；'　said　Ericson。　'I　went　in

the　last　time　I　walked　this　way。'



'Was　the　door　open？'　asked　Robert。



'I　don't　know；'　answered　Ericson。　'I　found　one　of　the　windows　open

in　the　basement。'



'We'll　get　the　len'　o'　ane　o'　the　lanterns；　an'　gang　direckly。　　It

canna　be　mair　nor　the　breedth　o'　a　rig　or　twa　frae　the　burn。'



'I　can　take　you　by　the　road；'　said　Ericson。



'It　will　be　very　cold；'　said　Miss　St。　John；already　shivering；

partly　from　disquietude。



'There's　timmer　eneuch　there　to　haud　's　warm　for　a　twalmonth；'　said

Robert。



He　went　back　to　the　coach。　　By　this　time　the　horses　were　nearly

extricated。　　Two　of　them　stood　steaming　in　the　lamplight；　with　their

sides　going　at　twenty　bellows'　speed。　　The　guard　would　not　let　him

have　one　of　the　coach　lamps；　but　gave　him　a　small　lantern　of　his

own。　　When　he　returned　with　it；　he　found　Ericson　and　Miss　St。　John

talking　together。



Ericson　led　the　way；　and　the　others　followed。



'Whaur　are　ye　gaein'；　gentlemen？'　asked　the　guard；　as　they　passed

the　coach。



'To　the　auld　hoose；'　answered　Robert。



'Ye　canna　do　better。　　I　maun　bide　wi'　the　coch　till　the　lave　gang

back　to　Drumheid　wi'　the　horses；　on'　fess　anither　pole。　　Faith；

it'll　be　weel　into　the　mornin'　or　we　win　oot　o'　this。　　Tak　care　hoo

ye　gang。　　There's　holes　i'　the　auld　hoose；　I　doobt。'



'We'll　tak　gude　care；　ye　may　be　sure；　Hector；'　said　Robert；　as　they

left　the　bridge。



The　house　to　which　Ericson　was　leading　them　was　in　the　midst　of　a

field。　　There　was　just　light　enough　to　show　a　huge　mass　standing　in

the　dark；　without　a　tree　or　shelter　of　any　sort。　　When　they　reached

it；　all　that　Miss　St。　John　could　distinguish　was　a　wide　broken　stair

leading　up　to　the　door；　with　glimpses　of　a　large；　plain；　ugly；

square　front。　　The　stones　of　the　stair　sloped　and　hung　in　several

directions；　but　it　was　plain　to　a　glance　that　the　place　was

dilapidated　through　extraordinary　neglect；　rather　than　by　the　usual

wear　of　time。　　In　fact；　it　belonged　only　to　the　beginning　of　the

preceding　century；　somewhere　in　Queen　Anne's　time。　　There　was　a

heavy　door　to　it；　but　fortunately　for　Miss　St。　John；　who　would　not

quite　have　relished　getting　in　at　the　window　of　which　Ericson　had

spoken；　it　stood　a　little　ajar。　　The　wind　roared　in　the　gap　and

echoed　in　the　empty　hall　into　which　they　now　entered。　　Certainly

Robert　was　right：　there　was　wood　enough　to　keep　them　warm；　for　that

hall；　and　every　room　into　which　they　went；　from　top　to　bottom　of　the

huge　house；　was　lined　with　pine。　　No　paint…brush　had　ever　passed

upon　it。　　Neither　was　there　a　spot　to　be　seen　upon　the　grain　of　the

wood：　it　was　clean　as　the　day　when　the　house　was　finished；　only　it

had　grown　much　browner。　　A　close　gallery；　with　window…frames　which

had　never　been　glazed；　at　one　story's　height；　leading　across　from

the　one　side　of　the　first　floor　to　the　other；　looked　down　into　the

great　echoing　hall；　which　rose　in　the　centre　of　the　building　to　the

height　of　two　stories；　but　this　was　unrecognizable　in　the　poor　light

of　the　guard's　lantern。　　All　the　rooms　on　every　floor　opened　each

into　the　other；but　why　should　I　give　such　a　minute　description；

making　my　reader　expect　a　ghost　story；　or　at　least　a　nocturnal

adventure？　　I　only　want　him　to　feel　something　of　what　our　party　felt

as　they　entered　this　desolate　building；　which；　though　some　hundred

and　twenty　years　old；　bore　not　a　single　mark　upon　the　smooth　floors

or　spotless　walls　to　indicate　that　article　of　furniture　had　ever

stood　in　it；　or　human　being　ever　inhabited　it。　　There　was　a　strange

and　unusual　horror　about　the　placea　feeling　quite　different　from

that　belonging　to　an　ancient　house；　however　haunted　it　might　be。　　It

was　like　a　body　that　had　never　had　a　human　soul　in　it。　　There　was　no

sense　of　a　human　history　about　it。　　Miss　St。　John's　feeling　of

eeriness　rose　to　the　height　when；　in　wandering　through　the　many

rooms　in　search　of　one　where　the　windows　were　less　broken；　she　came

upon　one　spot　in　the　floor。　　It　was　only　a　hole　worn