"Did you find him down below?" even whilst I was speaking theconviction came to me--I scarcely know how, but it was there as thoughdeep-rooted in my brain all my life--that our enemies were down below,or that they had some hiding place there. Gormala must have seen thechange in my face, for she exclaimed with jubilation:
"It would hae been better for ye that ye had taken my sairvice. The eenthat watched others micht hae been watchin' to yer will. But it's a'ower the noo. What secret there was is yours nae mair; an' it may bewaur for ye that ye flouted me in the days gone." As she spoke, thebitterness of her manner was beyond belief; the past rushed back on meso fiercely that I groaned. Then came again, but with oh! what pain, thethought of my dear one in the hands of her enemies.
Let no man question the working of the Almighty's hand. In that momentof the ecstasy of pain, something had spoken to the heart of the oldwoman beside me; for when I came back to myself they were differenteyes which looked into mine. They were soft and full of pity. All themotherhood which ever had been, or might have been, in that lonely soulwas full awake. It was with a tender voice that she questioned me:
"Ye are muckle sad laddie. Do I no ken a look like that when I speer it,and know that the Fates are to their wark. What maks ye greet laddie;what maks ye greet?" for by this time the revulsion of tenderness hadbeen too much for me and I was openly weeping. "Is it that the lassieis gone frae ye? Weel I ken that nane but a lassie can mak a strong mangreet." I felt that the woman's heart was open to me; and spoke with allthe passion of my soul:
"Oh, Gormala help me! Perhaps you can, and it may not be too late. Sheis stolen away and is in the hands of her enemies; wicked and desperatemen who have her prisoner on a ship somewhere out at sea. Her life, herhonour are at stake. Help me if you can; and I will bless you till thelast hour of my life!" The old woman's face actually blazed as I spoke.She seemed to tower up in the full of her gaunt height to the stature ofher woman's pride, as with blazing eyes she answered me:
"What! a woman, a lassie, in the hands o' wicked men! Aye an' sic abonnie, gran' lassie as yon, though she did flout me in the pride of heryouth and strength. Laddie, I'm wi' ye in all ye can dae! Wi' a' thestrength o' my hairt an' the breath o' my body; for life or for death!Ne'er mind the past; bad or good for me it is ower; and frae this ootI'm to your wark. Tell me what I can dae, an' the grass'll no grow undermy feet. A bonnie bit lassie in the power o' wicked men! I may hae beenower eager to win yer secret; but I'm no that bad to let aught sic comebetween me and the duty to what is pure and good!" She seemed grand andnoble in her self-surrender; such a figure as the poets of the old sagasmay have seen in their dreams, when the type of noble old womanhood wasin their hearts; in the times when the northern nations were dawning. Iwas quite overcome; I could not speak. I took her hand and kissed it.This seemed to touch her to the quick; with a queer little cry shegasped out:
"Oh, laddie, laddie!" and said no more. Then I told her of how Marjoryhad been carried off by the blackmail gang; I felt that she was entitledto this confidence. When I had spoken, she beat with her shut hand onthe top of the wall and said in a smothered way:
"Och! if I had but kent; if I had but kent! To think that I mighthae been watchin' them instead o' speerin' round yon hoose o' yours,watchin' to wring yer secret frae ye, an' aidin' yer enemies in theirwark. First the outland man wi' the dark hair; an' then them along wi'the black man wi' the evil face that sought ye the nicht gone. Wae isme! Wae is me! that I ha' done harm to a' in the frenzy o' my lust, andgreed, and curiosity!" She took on so badly that I tried to comfort her.I succeeded to a measure, when I had pointed out that the carrying offof Marjory was altogether a different matter from what had gone on in myhouse. Suddenly she stopped rocking herself to and fro; holding up onelong gaunt arm as I had seen her do several times before, she said:
"But what matters it after a'! We're in the hands o' Fate! An' there areVoices that speak an' Een that see. What is ordered of old will be donefor true; no matter how we may try to work our own will. 'Tis little useto kick against the pricks."
Then all at once she became brisk and alert. In a most practical tone ofvoice she said:
"Noo tell me what I can dae! Weel I ken, that ye hae a plan o' yer ain;an' that you and ithers are warkin' to an end that ye hae set. Ye haeone ither wi' ye the nicht; for gude or ill." She paused, and I askedher:
"Why did you go down the sheep path to the Haven. For what or for whomwere you looking?"
"I was lookin' for the treasure that I suspect was ta'en frae yourhoose; an' for them that took it! 'Twas I that guided them, after thedark man had gone; and watched whiles they were within. Then they sentme on a lang errand away to Ellon; and when I got back there was nanethere. I speered close, and saw the marks o' a cairt heavy loaden. Itwas lost on the high road; an' since then, nicht an' day hae I soughtfor any trace; but all in vain. But I'm thinkin' that it's nigh to herethey've hid it; I went down the yowes' roadie, an' alang the rock, an'up the bit beach; but never a sign did I see. There's a many cornersaboot the crags here, where a muckle treasure might lie hid, an' nanethe wiser save them that pit it there!" Wh
ilst she was talking I wasscribbling a line in my pocket-book; I tore out the page and handed itto her:
"If you would help me take that letter for I must not leave here. Giveit to the dark gentleman whom you know by sight. He is somewhere on therocks beyond the Castle." My message was to tell Don Bernardino that Ibelieved the treasure was hidden somewhere near me, and that the bearerof the note would guide him if he thought wise to join me.
Then I waited, waited. The night grew darker and darker; and the fogbelts came so thick and so heavy that they almost became one endlessmass. Only now and again could I get a glimpse of the sea outside thegreat rock. Once, far off out at sea but floating in on the wind, Iheard eight bells sound from a ship. My heart beat at the thought; forif the _Keystone_ were close at hand it might be well for us later on.Then there was silence, long and continuous. A silence which was ofthe night alone; every now and again when some sound of life from nearor far came to break its monotony the reaction became so marked thatsilence seemed to be a positive quality.
All at once I became conscious that Gormala was somewhere near me. Icould not see her, I could not hear her; but it was no surprise to mewhen through the darkness I saw her coming close to me, followed by DonBernardino. They both looked colossal through the mist.
As quickly as I could, I told the Don of my suspicions; and asked hisadvice. He agreed with me as to the probabilities of the attempt toescape, and announced his willingness to go down the path to DunbuyHaven and explore it thoroughly so far as was possible. Accordingly,with Gormala to guide him, he went to the end of the Haven and descendedthe steep moraine--it was a declension rather than a path. For myself Iwas not sanguine as to a search. The night was now well on us, and evenhad the weather been clear it would have been a difficult task to makesearch in such a place, where the high cliffs all around shut out thepossibilities of side light. Moreover, along the Haven, as with othersuch openings on this iron-bound coast, there were patches of outlyingrock under the cliffs. Occasionally these were continuous, so that atthe proper state of the tide a fairly good climber could easily make wayalong them. Here, however, there was no such continuity; the rocksrising from the sea close under the cliffs were in patches; without aboat it would be useless to attempt a complete exploration. I waited,however, calmly; I was gaining patience now out of my pain. A good whileelapsed before the Don returned, still accompanied by Gormala. He toldme that only the beach had been possible for examination; but as far ashe could see out by either channel, there was no sign of anyone hiding,or any bulk which could be such as we sought.
He considered it might be advisable if he went to warn the rest of ourparty of our belief as to the place appointed, and so took his way upnorth. Gormala remained with me so as to be ready to take any message ifoccasion required. She looked tired, so tired and weary that I made herlie down behind the rough wall. For myself sleep was an impossibility; Icould not have slept had my life or sanity depended on it. To soothe,her and put her mind at rest, I told her what she had always wanted toknow; what I had seen that night at Whinnyfold when the Dead came upfrom the sea. That quieted her, and she soon slept. So I waited andwaited, and the time crept slowly away.
All at once Gormala sat up beside me, broad awake and with all herinstincts at her keenest. "Whish!" she said, raising a warning hand. Atthis moment the fog belt was upon us, and on the wind, now risen high,the white wreaths swept by like ghosts. She held her ear as beforetowards seaward and listened intently. This time there could be nomistake; from far off through the dampness of the fog came the sound ofa passing ship. I ran out from behind the wall and threw myself facedown at the top of the cliff. I was just at the angle of the opening ofthe Haven and I could see if a boat entered by either channel. Gormalacame beside me and peered over; then she whispered:
"I shall gang doon the yowes' roadie; it brings me to the Haven's mooth,and frae thence I can warn ye if there be aught!" Before I replied shehad flitted away, and I saw her pass over the edge of the cliff andproceed on her perilous way. I leaned over the edge of the clifflistening. Down below I heard now and again the sound of a fallingpebble, dislodged from the path, but I could see nothing whatever. Belowme the black water showed now and again in the lifting of the fog.
The track outwards leads down to the sea at the southern corner of theopening of the Haven; so I moved on here to see if I could get anyglimpse of Gormala. The fog was now on in a dense mass, and I could seenothing a couple of feet from me. I heard, however, a sort of scramble;the rush and roll of stones tumbling, and the hollow reverberatingplash as they struck the water. My heart jumped, for I feared that someaccident might have happened to Gormala. I listened intently; but heardno sound. I did not stay, however, for I knew that the whole effort ofthe woman, engaged on such a task, would be to avoid betraying herself.I was right in my surmise, for after a few minutes of waiting I heard avery faint groan. It was low and suppressed, but there was no mistakingit as it came up to me through the driving mist. It was evident thatGormala was in some way in peril, and common humanity demanded that Ishould go down to help her if I could. It was no use my attempting thesheep track; if she had failed on it there would not be much chance ofmy succeeding. Besides, there had been a manifest slip or landslide; andmore than probably the path, or some necessary portion of it, had beencarried away. It would have been madness to attempt it, so I went to thesouthern side of the cliff where the rock was broken, and where therewas a sort of rugged path down to the sea. There was also an advantageabout this way; I could see straight out to sea to the south of DunbuyRock. Thus I need not lose sight of any shore-coming boat; which mighthappen were I on the other path which opened only in the Haven.
It was a hard task, and by daylight I might have found it even moredifficult. In parts it actually overhung the water, with an effect ofdizziness which was in itself dangerous. However, I persevered; andpresently got down on the cluster of rocks overhung by the cliff. Here,at the very corner of the opening to the Haven, under the spot where thesheep track led down, I found Gormala almost unconscious. She revived alittle when I lifted her and put my flask to her lips. For a few secondsshe leaned gasping against my breast with her poor, thin, grey hairstraggling across it. Then, with a great effort, she moaned out feebly,but of intention keeping her voice low lest even in that lone spot amidthe darkness of the night and the mist there might be listeners:
"I'm done this time, laddie; the rocks have broke me when the roadie gavway. Listen tae me, I'm aboot to dee; a' the Secrets and the Mysteries'll be mine soon. When the end is comin' haud baith my hands in ane o'yours, an' keep the ither ower my een. Then, when I'm passin' ye shallsee what my dead eyes see; and hear wi' the power o' my dead ears.Mayhap too, laddie, ye may ken the secrets and the wishes o' my hairt.Dinna lose yer chance, laddie! God be wi' ye an' the bonny lass. Tellher, an' ye will, that I forgie her floutin' me; an' that I bade thegude God keep her frae all harm, and send peace and happiness to yeboth--till the end. God forgie me all my sins!"
As she was speaking her life seemed slowly ebbing away. I could feel it,and I knew it in many ways. As I took her hand in mine, a glad smile wason her face, together with a look of eager curiosity. This was the lastthing I saw in the dim light, as my hand covered her filming eyes.
And then a strange and terrible thing began to happen.
CHAPTER L
THE EYES OF THE DEAD
As I knelt with the dead woman's hands in one of mine and the other overher eyes, I seemed to be floating high up in the air; and with amazingvision to see all round for a great distance. The fog still hung thickover the water. Around, the vast of the air and the depths of the seawere as open as though sunshine was on them and I was merely lookingthrough bright water. In the general panorama of things, so far as theeye could range, all lay open. The ships on the sea, and the floor underit; the iron-bound coast, and the far-lying uplands were all as thoughmarked on a picture chart. Far away on the horizon were several craft,small and large. A few miles out was a ship of war; and to the north ofher but much closer in shore lay a graceful yacht, slowly moving withthe tide and under shortened sail. The war ship was all alert; on everytop, and wherever there was a chance of seeing anything, was the head ofa man on the look-out. The search-light was on, and sea and sky were litalternately with its revolving rays. But that which drew my eyes, asthe magnet draws the iron, was a clumsily rigged ship close in shore,seemingly only a few hundred yards beyond the Dunbuy Rock. She was awhaler I knew, for on her deck were the great boats for use in roughseas, and the furnace where the blubber was melted. With unconsciousmovement, as though my soul were winged as a bird, I hung poised overthis vessel. It was strange indeed, but she seemed all as thoughcomposed of crystal; I could see through her, and down into the deepbelow her where her shadow lay, till my eyes rested on the patches ofbare sand or the masses of giant seaweed which swayed with the tideabove the rocks on which it grew. In and out amongst the seaweed thefishes darted, and the flower-like limpets moved ceaselessly outsidetheir shells on the rocks. I could even see the streaks on the waterwhich wind and current invariably leave on their course. Within theship, all was clear as though I were looking into a child's toy-house;but a toy-house wrought of glass. Every nook and cranny was laid bare;and the details, even when they did not interest me, sank into my mind.I could evermore, by closing my eyes, have seen again anything on whichin those moments of spiritual vision the eyes of my soul had rested.
All the time there was to me a dual consciousness. Whatever I saw beforeme was all plain and real; and yet I never lost for a moment the senseof my own identity. I knew I was on shore amid the rocks under thecliff, and that Gormala's dead body was beside me as I knelt. But therewas some divine guiding principle which directed my thought--it musthave been my thought, for my eyes followed as my wishes led, as thoughmy whole being went too. They were guided from the very bow of the shipalong the deck, and down the after hatchway. I went down, step by step,making accurate and careful scrutiny of all things around me. I passedinto the narrow cabin, which seemed even to me to smell evilly. The rankyellow light from the crude oil lamp with thick smoky wick made thegloom seem a reality, and the shadows as monstrous. From this I passedaft into a tiny cabin, where on a bunk lay Marjory asleep. She lookedpale and wan; it made my heart sick to see the great black circles roundher eyes. But there was resolution in her mouth and nostrils; resolutionfixed and untameable. Knowing her as I did, and with her message "I candie" burned into my heart, it did not need any guessing to know what wasin the hand clenched inside the breast of her dress. The cabin door waslocked; on the outside was a rough bolt, newly placed; the key was notin the lock. I would have lingered, for the lightning-like glimpse mademe hungry for more; but the same compelling force moved me on. In thenext cabin lay a man, also asleep. He was large of frame, with a ruggedred beard streaked with grey; what hair remained on his head, which wasall scarred with cicatrices, was a dull red turning white. On a rackabove him, under the chronometer--which marked Greenwich time as2.15,--ready to his hand, were two great seven shooters; from his pocketpeeped the hilt of a bowie knife. It was indeed strange to me thatI could look without passion or vindictiveness on such a person sodisposed. I suppose it was the impersonal spirit within me which was atthe moment receptive, and that all human passion, being ultimately ofthe flesh, was latent. At the time, though I was conscious of it, it didnot strike me as strange; no more strange than that I could see far andnear at the same glance, and take in great space and an impossiblewilderness of detail. No more strange, than that all things were for meresolved into their elements; that fog ceased to deaden or darknessto hide; that timber and iron, deck and panel and partition, beam anddoor and bulkhead were as transparent as glass. In my mind was a vagueintention of making examination of every detail which could bear on thedanger of Marjory. But even whilst such an idea was in its incipientstage, so swift is the mechanism of thought, my eyes beheld, as thoughit were through the sides of the ship, a boat pass out from a watercavein the cliffs behind the Rock of Dunbuy. In it I saw, with the sameseeing eye which gave me power in aught else, seven men some of whom Iknew at a glance to be those whom Marjory had described in the tunnel.All but one I surveyed calmly, and weighed up as it were withcomplacency; but this one was a huge coal-black negro, hideous, and ofrepulsive aspect. A glimpse of him made my blood run cold, and filled mymind at once with hate and fear. As I looked, the boat came towards theship with inconceivable rapidity. It was not that she moved fast throughthe water, for her progress was in reality slow and laboured. The windand the sea had risen; half a gale was blowing and the seas were runningso high that the ship rose and fell, pitched and rolled and tossedabout like a toy. It was, that time, like distance, was in my mindobliterated. Truly, I was looking with spirit eyes, and under allspiritual conditions.