|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 58
"Who is it?" she asked; and Masters answered:
"Oh, my gracious! Terrible sorry, ma'am! If I didn't think--"
"What on earth are you doing, Masters?"
"Much the same as you, I expect, ma'am. I thought just to creep
along and see if the reverend gentleman was all right. And he is.
The light's burning--you can see it under the door--and he's
praying away, steady as a steam-threshing machine. I doubt he's
keeping the evil creature at arm's length, and I'm a tidy lot more
hopeful than what I was an hour ago. The thing ain't strong enough
to touch a man praying to God like what he can. But if prayers keep
it harmless, then it's got ears and it's alive!"
"Can you believe that, Masters?" she whispered.
"Got to, ma'am. If it was just a natural horror beyond the reach
of prayer, it would have knocked his reverence out long before now,
like other people. It settled the police officer in under an hour,
and Mr. May's been up against it for three--nearly four hours, so
far. He'll bolt it yet, I shouldn't wonder, like a ferret bolts
a rat."
"You really feel more hopeful?"
"Yes, I do, ma'am; and if he can fire the creature and signal
'All's clear' for Chadlands, it will calm everybody and be a proper
feather in his cap, and he did ought to be made a bishop, at the
least. Not that Scotland Yard men will believe a word of it
to-morrow, all the same. Ghosts are bang out of their line, and
I never met even a common constable that believed in 'em, except
Bob Parrett, and he had bats in the belfry, poor chap. No; they'll
reckon it's somebody in the house, I expect, who wanted to kill
t' others, but ain't got no quarrel with Mr. May. And you'd be
wise to get back to bed, ma'am, and try to sleep, else you'll catch
a cold. I'll look round again in an hour or to, if I don't go to
sleep my self."
They parted, while the storm still ran high, and through the empty
corridor, when it was lulled, a voice rolled steadily on from the
Grey Boom.
When it suddenly ceased, an hour before dawn, the storm had already
begun to sink, and through a rack of flying and breaking cloud the
"Hunter" wheeled westerly to his setting.
CHAPTER VIII
THE LABORS OF THE FOUR
Despite the storm, Sir Walter slept through the night, and did not
waken until his man drew the blinds upon a dawn sky so clear that
it seemed washed of its blue. He had directed to be wakened at
six o'clock.
"What of Mr. May?" he asked.
"Masters wants to know if we shall call him, Sir Walter."
"Not if he has returned to his room, but immediately if still in
the Grey Room."
"He's not in his own room, sir."
"Then seek him at once."
The valet hesitated.
"Please, Sir Walter, there's none much cares to open the door."
He heard his daughter's voice outside at the same moment.
"Mr. May has not left the Grey Room, father."
"I'll be with you in a moment," he answered.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|