My mind, I remember, was strangely clear at the moment. Excited as I was, all the issues came to me plainly, and I felt I must form some plan of action without delay. During the whole journey I had asked her no questions concerning the inmates of Pycroft Hall. According to the man in the inn the place was inhabited only by the spirits of the dead. Solomon the Fool, as he had been called, was dead, and the place had fallen into ruins. Nevertheless some one lived there. The man at the inn had said something about an "old man," from whom the woman was to obtain what he desired. What did this mean? Who was this old man? And what connection had he with the person to whom Katharine Harcomb had referred?
All these things whetted my curiosity, and made me determine to penetrate the secret of the light at the little mullioned window, and to learn what lay within the grim dark walls. I therefore hurried to the woman's side.
"Do you realize what you are doing?"
"Ay, I realize."
"But you must not go in there alone."
"Yes, I must go alone."
"No, I shall accompany you."
"You must not. You dare not."
"I must, and I dare," I replied. "I have promised to protect you, and I shall keep my word."
"Ay, and you promised not to interfere with me," she said. "I have your word as a gentleman. Besides if you went in there your life would not be worth a groat. You would never leave it alive."
"Why? Is it the home of a band of robbers?"
"It is the home of darkness. Besides, I must go alone – alone I tell you. Things are done behind those walls from which you could not protect me, from which no one can protect me save him who – who will not."
"Then why go?"
"Because I must. Because – but what is that to you? You have accompanied me hither against my will. You have given me your word of honour not to hinder me in the work I have to do – to try and learn nothing from me which I do not wish to tell you."
"I am determined to protect you," I said. "If there is danger there for me, there is danger for you. Nay more. I am a man and can protect myself, while you are a woman, weak and helpless."
"Weak and helpless!" She turned to me with flashing eyes as I had seen her first. "I am neither weak nor helpless," she said angrily. "I do not carry a sword, but I have weapons of which you know nothing, Master Rashcliffe. Moreover if you dare to hinder me I will use them, and perhaps against you."
Was this an empty threat, or was there some meaning behind it? Certainly she looked as though she might carry her words into effect, and I realized that although she had been moved to tears during the journey, she was no weak, helpless creature, but a strong woman, capable and self-reliant. It came to me then, moreover, as I have discovered since, that it must have been something beyond the ordinary to cause her to obey the man at the inn in this matter, even although he exercised a husband's control over her. Still I was not to be daunted by a woman's anger, and I answered calmly but firmly —
"I will keep to my words," I said; "I will ask you no questions which you do not desire to answer; but because I am determined to protect you I will discover the secret of this house."
At this she looked steadily in my face again, and by this time there was sufficient light for her to see my features plainly.
"Then let me tell you this," she said quietly. "If you seek to enter with me you will place me in danger. You will, – but never mind. If you desire to befriend me, I beseech you not to enter with me. Even now, even by being with you here, I may be writing my own death warrant. Oh, you do not know, you do not know! If you desire to go there," and here she pointed towards the light that still twinkled from the window, "well go, although I would beseech you never to seek to penetrate those walls. But do not come with me now. If you do I am undone."
She spoke in a low tone, scarcely above a whisper, but there was such intensity in her voice, almost amounting to agony, that my heart failed me. Moreover I considered that if I went with her I should not be able to discover the thing I desired. I reflected that above everything my work must be done in secret, and to go with her would be out of accord with the plans I had been formulating.
"Has the person who caused the light to shine there power over you?" I asked.
"I will answer you nothing. Find out what you will and how you will, but do not seek to go with me."
I do not think she fully realized what she was saying, so eager was she to be alone. I could see that she desired at all costs to be rid of me, and at that moment I thought of a plan whereby I could seemingly yield to her desires and still have my own way.
"But what would you have me do?" I asked.
"You desire to help me?"
"Yes. I have said so. Nay, I am determined to protect you."
She hesitated a second.
"Then stay here until I return. I shall not be long, at least I do not think so."
"But if you are in danger there?"
"If I am, and I need your help, I will cry out loud enough for you to hear me."
"Then I may enter?"
"Then you may enter – yes, if you can."
There was mockery in her tones, but it was the mockery of despair.
"Very well," I replied quietly, "I will obey."
She looked at me eagerly.
"And you will not interfere with me?"
"No."
"And you will remain here hidden from sight?"
"I will stay outside, hidden from sight, but I shall be near to help in case of need."
She heaved a sigh as I spoke, a sigh with a tremble in it, and I knew she feared to do the work that lay before her, whatever it might be. But she did not hesitate. Walking in the direction of the house, which was about a musket shot away, I saw her walk steadily across the open space that lay between me and the house, and a little later was lost behind the dark shrubs that grew close to what I thought looked like the entrance to the building.
I waited in silence, straining every nerve to catch the least approach of sound, and presently heard the sound of voices. After that all became silent. The light still shone from the window, which as I have said was partly hidden by an evergreen tree that grew near. The fever of discovery was now hot upon me. I remembered the woman's words, "Find out what you can, and how you will, but do not seek to go with me," and I determined to act upon them. Evidently she believed that I could discover nothing from the outside, but I believed otherwise. It was this belief which caused me to yield to her wishes and remain outside. No sooner, therefore, did the sound of voices cease than I went stealthily across what had at one time been a lawn towards the evergreen tree I had seen growing near the window. I saw in a moment that it suited my purpose, and a few seconds later I was perched on a branch on a level with the window from which the light had been shining, but which was now dark even as the others were. This, as may be imagined, ruined my plans. My desire had been to look through the window, and so watch what took place in the room, and now everything had come to naught. Still I waited. I reflected that the light meant some living person in the room. It suggested that whoever lived in the old house used this part of it as a dwelling place. Even if the light was gone now it might be brought back presently, and I had plenty of time to wait. Meanwhile I placed myself in a position to watch the window, while the trunk of the tree was such an excellent protection that any one could pass under it, and look up at it, without ever dreaming that I was there. As far as I could judge the tree was about twenty yards from the house, thus while it was not near enough for me to hear much, it enabled me to see clearly.
I had not been there more than a minute when a light shot from the window again, and I was enabled to see the interior of the room. But this was of no great use to me, even although I saw on a table many things which