Dracula's Guest

'Tie it round your waist, and I shall pull you up.' Then when he feltthat it was fast he moved along the rock to the far side of the seacave, where the deep water was something stiller, and where he couldget foothold secure enough to drag the rescued man on the overhangingrock. He began to pull, and shortly he knew from the rope taken inthat the man he was now rescuing must soon be close to the top of therock. He steadied himself for a moment, and drew a long breath, thathe might at the next effort complete the rescue. He had just bent hisback to the work when a flash of lightning revealed to each other thetwo men--the rescuer and the rescued.

Eric Sanson and Abel Behenna were face to face--and none knew of themeeting save themselves; and God.

On the instant a wave of passion swept through Eric's heart. All hishopes were shattered, and with the hatred of Cain his eyes looked out.He saw in the instant of recognition the joy in Abel's face that hiswas the hand to succour him, and this intensified his hate. Whilst thepassion was on him he started back, and the rope ran out between hishands. His moment of hate was followed by an impulse of his bettermanhood, but it was too late.

Before he could recover himself, Abel encumbered with the rope thatshould have aided him, was plunged with a despairing cry back into thedarkness of the devouring sea.

Then, feeling all the madness and the doom of Cain upon him, Ericrushed back over the rocks, heedless of the danger and eager only forone thing--to be amongst other people whose living noises would shutout that last cry which seemed to ring still in his ears. When heregained the Flagstaff Rock the men surrounded him, and through thefury of the storm he heard the harbour-master say:--

'We feared you were lost when we heard a cry! How white you are! Whereis your rope? Was there anyone drifted in?'

'No one,' he shouted in answer, for he felt that he could neverexplain that he had let his old comrade slip back into the sea, and atthe very place and under the very circumstances in which that comradehad saved his own life. He hoped by one bold lie to set the matter atrest for ever. There was no one to bear witness--and if he should haveto carry that still white face in his eyes and that despairing cry inhis ears for evermore--at least none should know of it. 'No one,' hecried, more loudly still. 'I slipped on the rock, and the rope fellinto the sea!' So saying he left them, and, rushing down the steeppath, gained his own cottage and locked himself within.

The remainder of that night he passed lying on his bed--dressed andmotionless--staring upwards, and seeming to see through the darkness apale face gleaming wet in the lightning, with its glad recognitionturning to ghastly despair, and to hear a cry which never ceased toecho in his soul.

In the morning the storm was over and all was smiling again, exceptthat the sea was still boisterous with its unspent fury. Great piecesof wreck drifted into the port, and the sea around the island rock wasstrewn with others. Two bodies also drifted into the harbour--one themaster of the wrecked ketch, the other a strange seaman whom no oneknew.

Sarah saw nothing of Eric till the evening, and then he only lookedin for a minute. He did not come into the house, but simply put hishead in through the open window.

'Well, Sarah,' he called out in a loud voice, though to her it did notring truly, 'is the wedding dress done? Sunday week, mind! Sundayweek!'

Sarah was glad to have the reconciliation so easy; but, womanlike,when she saw the storm was over and her own fears groundless, she atonce repeated the cause of offence.

'Sunday so be it,' she said without looking up, 'if Abel isn't thereon Saturday!' Then she looked up saucily, though her heart was full offear of another outburst on the part of her impetuous lover. But thewindow was empty; Eric had taken himself off, and with a pout sheresumed her work. She saw Eric no more till Sunday afternoon, afterthe banns had been called the third time, when he came up to herbefore all the people with an air of proprietorship which half-pleasedand half-annoyed her.

'Not yet, mister!' she said, pushing him away, as the other girlsgiggled. 'Wait till Sunday next, if you please--the day afterSaturday!' she added, looking at him saucily. The girls giggled again,and the young men guffawed. They thought it was the snub that touchedhim so that he became as white as a sheet as he turned away. ButSarah, who knew more than they did, laughed, for she saw triumphthrough the spasm of pain that overspread his face.

The week passed uneventfully; however, as Saturday drew nigh Sarah hadoccasional moments of anxiety, and as to Eric he went about atnight-time like a man possessed. He restrained himself when otherswere by, but now and again he went down amongst the rocks and cavesand shouted aloud. This seemed to relieve him somewhat, and he wasbetter able to restrain himself for some time after. All Saturday hestayed in his own house and never left it. As he was to be married onthe morrow, the neighbours thought it was shyness on his part, and didnot trouble or notice him. Only once was he disturbed, and that waswhen the chief boatman came to him and sat down, and after a pausesaid:

'Eric, I was over in Bristol yesterday. I was in the ropemaker'sgetting a coil to replace the one you lost the night of the storm, andthere I saw Michael Heavens of this place, who is a salesman there. Hetold me that Abel Behenna had come home the week ere last on the _Starof the Sea_ from Canton, and that he had lodged a sight of money inthe Bristol Bank in the name of Sarah Behenna. He told Michael sohimself--and that he had taken passage on the _Lovely Alice_ toPencastle. 'Bear up, man,' for Eric had with a groan dropped his headon his knees, with his face between his hands. 'He was your oldcomrade, I know, but you couldn't help him. He must have gone downwith the rest that awful night. I thought I'd better tell you, lest itmight come some other way, and you might keep Sarah Trefusis frombeing frightened. They were good friends once, and women take thesethings to heart. It would not do to

let her be pained with such athing on her wedding day!' Then he rose and went away, leaving Ericstill sitting disconsolately with his head on his knees.

'Poor fellow!' murmured the chief boatman to himself; 'he takes it toheart. Well, well! right enough! They were true comrades once, andAbel saved him!'

The afternoon of that day, when the children had left school, theystrayed as usual on half-holidays along' the quay and the paths by thecliffs. Presently some of them came running in a state of greatexcitement to the harbour, where a few men were unloading a coalketch, and a great many were superintending the operation. One of thechildren called out:

'There is a porpoise in the harbour mouth! We saw it come through theblow-hole! It had a long tail, and was deep under the water!'

'It was no porpoise,' said another; 'it was a seal; but it had a longtail! It came out of the seal cave!' The other children bore varioustestimony, but on two points they were unanimous--it, whatever 'it'was, had come through the blow-hole deep under the water, and had along, thin tail--a tail so long that they could not see the end of it.There was much unmerciful chaffing of the children by the men on thispoint, but as it was evident that they had seen something, quite anumber of persons, young and old, male and female, went along the highpaths on either side of the harbour mouth to catch a glimpse of thisnew addition to the fauna of the sea, a long-tailed porpoise or seal.The tide was now coming in. There was a slight breeze, and the surfaceof the water was rippled so that it was only at moments that anyonecould see clearly into the deep water. After a spell of watching awoman called out that she saw something moving up the channel, justbelow where she was standing. There was a stampede to the spot, but bythe time the crowd had gathered the breeze had freshened, and it wasimpossible to see with any distinctness below the surface of thewater. On being questioned the woman described what she had seen, butin such an incoherent way that the whole thing was put down as aneffect of imagination; had it not been for the children's report shewould not have been credited at all. Her semi-hysterical statementthat what she saw was 'like a pig with the entrails out' was onlythought anything of by an old coastguard, who shook his head but didnot make any remark. For the remainder of the daylight this man wasseen always on the bank, looking into the water, but always withdisappointment manifest on his face.

Eric arose early on the next morning--he had not slept all night, andit was a relief to him to move about in the light. He shaved himselfwith a hand that did not tremble, and dressed himself in his weddingclothes. There was a haggard look on his face, and he seemed as thoughhe had grown years older in the last few days. Still there was a wild,uneasy light of triumph in his eyes, and he kept murmuring to himselfover and over again:

'This is my wedding-day! Abel cannot claim her now--living ordead!--living or dead! Living or dead!' He sat in his arm-chair,waiting with an uncanny quietness for the church hour to arrive. Whenthe bell began to ring he arose and passed out of his house, closingthe door behind him. He looked at the river and saw the tide had justturned. In the church he sat with Sarah and her mother, holdingSarah's hand tightly in his all the time, as though he feared to loseher. When the service was over they stood up together, and weremarried in the presence of the entire congregation; for no one leftthe church. Both made the responses clearly--Eric's being even on thedefiant side. When the wedding was over Sarah took her husband's arm,and they walked away together, the boys and younger girls being cuffedby their elders into a decorous behaviour, for they would fain havefollowed close behind their heels.

The way from the church led down to the back of Eric's cottage, anarrow passage being between it and that of his next neighbour. Whenthe bridal couple had passed through this the remainder of thecongregation, who had followed them at a little distance, werestartled by a long, shrill scream from the bride. They rushed throughthe passage and found her on the bank with wild eyes, pointing to theriver bed opposite Eric Sanson's door.

The falling tide had deposited there the body of Abel Behenna starkupon the broken rocks. The rope trailing from its waist had beentwisted by the current round the mooring post, and had held it backwhilst the tide had ebbed away from it. The right elbow had fallen ina chink in the rock, leaving the hand outstretched toward Sarah, withthe open palm upward as though it were extended to receive hers, thepale drooping fingers open to the clasp.

All that happened afterwards was never quite known to Sarah Sanson.Whenever she would try to recollect there would become a buzzing inher ears and a dimness in her eyes, and all would pass away. The onlything that she could remember of it all--and this she neverforgot--was Eric's breathing heavily, with his face whiter than thatof the dead man, as he muttered under his breath:

'Devil's help! Devil's faith! Devil's price!'

The Burial of the Rats

Leaving Paris by the Orleans road, cross the Enceinte, and, turning tothe right, you find yourself in a somewhat wild and not at all savourydistrict. Right and left, before and behind, on every side rise greatheaps of dust and waste accumulated by the process of time.

Paris has its night as well as its day life, and the sojourner whoenters his hotel in the Rue de Rivoli or the Rue St. Honore late atnight or leaves it early in the morning, can guess, in coming nearMontrouge--if he has not done so already--the purpose of those greatwaggons that look like boilers on wheels which he finds haltingeverywhere as he passes.