CHAPTER XIII.
THE BLACK HARE.
It was a glorious breezy November morning; the sturdy oaks alone held onto the last brown remnants of their summer finery; all the rest of thetrees in the vast sheets of wood which clothed the lower parts of thedowns overhanging Ravenshoe had changed the bright colours of autumn forthe duller, but not less beautiful, browns and purples of winter. Below,in the park, the deer were feeding among the yellow fern brakes, and therabbits were basking and hopping in the narrow patches of slantingsunlight, which streamed through the leafless trees. Aloft, on the hill,the valiant blackcock led out his wives and family from thewhortle-grown rocks, to flaunt his plumage in the warmest corner beneaththe Tor.
And the Tors, too, how they hung aloft above the brown heather, whichwas relieved here and there by patches of dead, brown, king-fern; hungaloft like brilliant, clearly-defined crystals, with such mightybreadths of light and shadow as Sir Charles Barry never couldaccomplish, though he had Westminster Abbey to look at every day.
Up past a narrow sheep-path, where the short grass faded on the one sideinto feathery broom, and on the other into brown heather and grey stone,under the shadow of the Tor which lay nearest to Ravenshoe, and overhungthose dark woods in which we saw Densil just now walking with his oldhound; there was grouped, on the morning after the day of Charles'sarrival, a happy party, every one of whom is already known to thereader. Of which circumstance I, the writer, am most especially glad.For I am already as tired of introducing new people to you as my lordchamberlain must be of presenting strangers to her Majesty at a levee.
Densil first, on a grey cob, looking very old and feeble, straining hiseyes up the glen whither Charles, and James, the old keeper, had gonewith the greyhounds. At his rein stood William, whom we knew at Oxford.Beside the old man sat Mary on her pony, looking so radiant and happy,that, even if there had been no glorious autumn sun overhead, one glanceat her face would have made the dullest landscape in Lancashire lookbright. Last, not least, the good Father Tiernay, who sat on his horse,hatless, radiant, scratching his tonsure.
"And so you're determined to back the blue dog, Miss Mary," said he.
"I have already betted a pair of gloves with Charles, Mr. Tiernay," saidMary, "and I will be rash enough to do so with you. Ruin is the quickeststriker we have ever bred."
"I know it; they all say so," said the priest; "but come, I must have abet on the course. I will back Lightning."
"Lightning is the quicker dog," said Densil; "but Ruin! you will see himlie behind the other dog all the run, and strike the hare at last.Father Mackworth, a good judge of a dog, always backs him against thekennel."
"Where is Father Mackworth?"
"I don't know," said Densil. "I am surprised he is not with us; he isvery fond of coursing."
"His reverence, sir," said William, "started up the moor about an hourago. I saw him going."
"Where was he going to?"
"I can't say, sir. He took just over past the rocks on the opposite sideof the bottom from Mr. Charles."
"I wonder," said Father Tiernay, "whether James will find his friend,the witch, this morning."
"Ah," said Densil, "he was telling me about that. I am sure I hope not."
Father Tiernay was going to laugh, but didn't.
"Do you believe in witches, then, Mr. Ravenshoe?"
"Why, no," said Densil, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose not.It don't seem to me now, as an old man, a more absurd belief than thisnew electro-biology and table-turning. Charles tells me that they usemagic crystals at Oxford, and even claim to have raised the devilhimself at Merton; which, at this time of day, seems rather likereverting to first principles. But I am not sure I believe in any of it.I only know that, if any poor old woman has sold herself to Satan, andtaken it into her head to transform herself into a black hare, mygreyhounds won't light upon her. She must have made such a deuced hardbargain that I shouldn't like to cheat her out of any of the small spaceleft her between this and, and--thingamy."
William, as a privileged servant, took the liberty of remarking that oldMrs. Jewel didn't seem to have been anything like a match for Satan inthe way of a bargain, for she had had hard times of it seven yearsbefore she died. From which--
Father Tiernay deduced the moral lesson, that that sort of thing didn'tpay; and--
Mary said she didn't believe a word of such rubbish, for old Mrs. Jewelwas as nice an old body as ever was seen, and had worked hard for herliving, until her strength failed, and her son went down in one of theherring-boats.
Densil said that his little bird was too positive. There was the witchof Endor, for instance--
Father Tiernay, who had been straining his eyes and attention at themovements of Charles and the greyhounds, and had only caught the lastword, said with remarkable emphasis and distinctness--
"A broomstick of the Witch of Endor, Well shod wi' brass,"
and then looked at Densil as though he had helped him out of adifficulty, and wanted to be thanked. Densil continued without noticinghim--
"There was the witch of Endor. And 'thou shalt not suffer a witch tolive.' If there weren't such things as witches, you know, St. Paulwouldn't have said that."
"I don't think it was St. Paul, papa, was it?" said Mary.
"It was one of them, my love; and, for that matter, I consider St. Peterquite as good as St. Paul, if not better. St. Peter was always introuble, I know; but he was the only one who struck a blow for the goodcause, all honour to him. Let me see, he married St. Veronica, didn'the?"
"Marry St. Veronica, virgin and martyr?" said the priest, aghast. "Mygood sir, you are really talking at random."
"Ah, well, I may be wrong; she was virgin, but she was no martyr."
"St. Veronica," said Father Tiernay, dogmatically, and somewhat sulkily,"was martyred under Tiberius; no less than that."
"I bet you what you like of it," cried Densil, "she died----"
But what was Densil's opinion about the last days of St. Veronica willfor ever remain a mystery; for at this moment there came a "See, HO!"from Charles; in the next a noble hare had burst from a tangled mass ofbrambles at his feet; in another the two dogs were on her haunches, andCharles, carrying two little flags furled in his hand, had dashed at therough rocks on the bottom of the valley, had brought his horse on hisnose, recovered him, and was half way up the hill after the flyinggreyhounds.
It was but a short course. Puss raced for some broken ground under thehill, opposite to where our party stood. She was too close pressed, anddoubled back for the open, but, meeting James, turned as a lastdesperate chance back to her first point. Too late; the dogs were uponher. There was a short scuffle, and then Charles, rising in his saddle,unfurled his blue flag, and waved it.
"Hurrah!" cried Mary, clapping her hands, "two pairs of gloves thismorning; where will he try now, I wonder? Here comes James; let us askhim."
James approached them with the dead hare, and Densil asked where he wasgoing to try. He said, just where they were.
Densil asked, had he seen Father Mackworth? and he was in the act ofsaying that he was gone over the down, when a shout from Charles, and astill louder one from James, made them all start. A large _black hare_had burst from the thorns at Charles's feet, and was bowling down theglen straight toward them, with the dogs close behind her.
"The witch," shouted James, "the witch! we shall know who she is now."
It seemed very likely indeed. Densil broke away from William, and,spurring his pony down the sheep-path at the risk of his neck, made forthe entrance of the wood. The hare, one of such dark colour that shelooked almost black, scudded along in a parallel direction, and dashedinto the grass ride just in front of Densil; they saw her flying downit, just under the dog's noses, and then they saw her dash into a crossride, one of the dogs making a strike at her as she did so; then hareand greyhounds disappeared round the corner.
"She's dead, sir, confound her; we shall have her now, the witch!"
They all came round the corner pell-mell. Here stood the dogs, pantingand looking foolishly about them, while in front of them, a few yardsdistant, stood Father Mackworth, looking disturbed and flushed, asthough he had been running.
Old James stared aghast; William gave a long whistle; Mary, for amoment, was actually terrified. Densil looked puzzled, Charles amused;while Father Tiernay made the forest ring with peal after peal ofuproarious laughter.
"I am afraid I have spoilt sport, Mr. Ravenshoe," said Mackworth, comingforward; "the hare ran almost against my legs, and doubled into thecopse, puzzling the dogs. They seemed almost inclined to revengethemselves on me for a moment."
"Ha, ha!" cried the jolly priest, not noticing, as Charles did, howconfused the priest was. "So we've caught you sneaking home from yourappointment with your dear friend."
"What do you mean, sir, by appointment? You are over-stepping the boundsof decorum, sir. Mr. Ravenshoe, I beg you to forgive me forinadvertently spoiling your sport."
"Not at all, my dear Father," said Densil, thinking it best, from thescared look of old James, to enter into no further explanations; "wehave killed one hare, and now I think it is time to come home to lunch."
"Don't eat it all before I come; I must run up to the Tor; I havedropped my whip there," said Charles. "James, ride my horse home; youlook tired. I shall be there on foot in half the time."
He had cast the reins to James, and was gone, and they all turnedhomewards together.
Charles, fleet of foot, was up on the Tor in a few minutes, and hadpicked up his missing property; then he sat him down on a stone,thinking.
"There is something confoundedly wrong somewhere, and I should like tofind out what it is. What had that Jack priest been up to, that made himlook so queer? And also, what was the matter between Ellen and Williamlast night? Whom has she been going on with? I will go down. I wish Icould find some trace of him. One thing I know, and one thing only, thathe hates me worse than poison; and that his is not likely to be apassive hatred."
The wood into which Charles descended was of very large extent, andcomposed of the densest copse, intersected by long straight grass rides.The day had turned dark and chilly; and a low moaning wind began tosweep through the bare boughs, rendering still more dismal the prospectof the long-drawn vistas of damp grass and rotting leaves.
He passed musing on from one ride to another, and in one of them came insight of a low, white building, partly ruinous, which had been built inthe deepest recesses of the wood for a summer-house. Years ago Cuthbertand Charles used to come and play there on happy summer holidays--playat being Robinson Crusoe and what not; but there had been a fight withthe poachers there, and one of their young men had been kicked in thehead by one of the gang, and rendered idiotic; and Charles had seen theblood on the grass next morning; and so they voted it a dismal place,and never went near it again. Since then it had been taken possession ofby the pheasants to dust themselves in. Altogether it was a solitary,ghostly sort of place; and, therefore, Charles was considerablestartled, on looking in at the low door, to see a female figure, sittingunmoveable in the darkest corner.
It was not a ghost, for it spoke. It said, "Are you come back to upbraidme again? I know my power, and you shall never have it." And Charlessaid, "Ellen!"
She looked up, and began to cry. At first a low, moaning cry, andafterwards a wild passionate burst of grief.
He drew her towards him, and tried to quiet her, but she drew away. "Notto-day," she cried, "not to-day."
"What is the matter, pretty one? What is the matter, sister?" saidCharles.
"Call me sister again," she said, looking up. "I like that name. Kissme, and call me sister, just for once."
"Sister dear," said Charles kindly, kissing her on the forehead, "Whatis the matter?"
"I have had a disagreement with Father Mackworth, and he has called menames. He found me here walking with Master Cuthbert."
"With Cuthbert?"
"Ay, why not? I might walk with you or him any time, and no harm. I mustgo."
Before Charles had time to say one word of kindness, or consolation, orwonder, she had drawn him towards her, given him a kiss, and was gonedown the ride towards the house. He saw her dress flutter round the lastcorner, and she disappeared.