CHAPTER XXVI: THE LEGEND OF PENNY GRIM
"O dearest Marjorie, stay at hame, For dark's the gate ye have to go,For there's a maike down yonder glen Hath frightened me and many me."
HOGG.
"Nana," said little Philip in a meditative voice, as he looked intothe glowing embers of the hall fire, "when do fairies leave offstealing little boys?"
"I do not believe they ever steal them, Phil."
"Oh, yes they do;" and he came and stood by her with his greatlimpid blue eyes wide open. "Goody Dearlove says they stole alittle boy, and his name was Penny Grim."
"Goody Dearlove is a silly old body to tell my boy such stories,"said Anne, disguising how much she was startled.
"Oh, but Ralph Huntsman says 'tis true, and he knew him."
"How could he know him when he was stolen?"
"They put another instead," said the boy, a little puzzled, but tooyoung to make his story consistent. "And he was an elf--a crossspiteful elf, that was always vexing folk. And they stole him againevery seven years. Yes--that was it--they stole him every sevenyears."
"Whom, Phil; I don't understand--the boy or the elf?" she said,half-diverted, even while shocked at the old story coming up in sucha form.
"The elf, I think," he said, bending his brows; "he comes back, andthen they steal him again. Yes; and at last they stole him quite--quite away--but it is seven years, and Goody Dearlove says he is tobe seen again!"
"No!" exclaimed Anne, with an irrepressible start of dismay. "Hasany one seen him, or fancied so?" she added, though feeling that herchance of maintaining her rational incredulity was gone.
"Goody Dearlove's Jenny did," was the answer. "She saw him standout on the beach at night by moonlight, and when she screamed out,he was gone like the snuff of a candle."
"Saw him? What was he like?" said Anne, struggling for thedispassionate tone of the governess, and recollecting that JennyDearlove was a maid at Portchester Rectory.
"A little bit of a man, all twisty on one side, and a feathersticking out. Ralph said they always were like that;" and Phil'simitation, with his lithe, graceful little figure, of Ralph's clumsymimicry was sufficient to show that there was some foundation forthis story, and she did not answer at once, so that he added, "I amseven, Nana; do you think they will get me?"
"Oh no, no, Phil, there's no fear at all of that. I don't believefairies steal anybody, but even old women like Goody Dearlove onlysay they steal little tiny babies if they are left alone before theyare christened."
The boy drew a long breath, but still asked, "Was Penny Grim alittle baby?"
"So they said," returned Anne, by no means interfering with thename, and with a quailing heart as she thought of the child's everknowing what concern his father had in that disappearance. She wasby no means sorry to have the conversation broken off by SirPhilip's appearance, booted and buskined, prepared for an expeditionto visit a flock of sheep and their lambs under the shelter ofPortsdown Hill, and in a moment his little namesake was friskinground eager to go with grandpapa.
"Well, 'tis a brisk frost. Is it too far for him, think you,Mistress Anne?"
"Oh no, sir; he is a strong little man and a walk will only be goodfor him, if he does not stand still too long and get chilled. Run,Phil, and ask nurse for your thick coat and stout shoes andleggings."
"His grandmother only half trusts me with him," said Sir Philip,laughing. "I tell her she was not nearly so careful of his father.I remember him coming in crusted all over with ice, so that he couldhardly get his clothes off, but she fancies the boy may have some ofhis poor mother's weakliness about him."
"I see no tokens of it, sir."
"Grand-dames will be anxious, specially over one chick. Heigho!Winter travelling must be hard in Germany, and posts do not come.How now, my man! Are you rolled up like a very Russian bear? Thepoor ewes will think you are come to eat up their lambs."
"I'll growl at them," said Master Philip, uttering a soundsufficient to disturb the nerves of any sheep if he were permittedto make it, and off went grandfather and grandson together, SirPhilip only pausing at the door to say--
"My lady wants you, Anne; she is fretting over the delay. I fear,though I tell her it bodes well."
Anne watched for a moment the hale old gentleman briskly walking on,the merry child frolicking hither and thither round him, and thesturdy body-servant Ralph, without whom he never stirred, ploddingafter, while Keeper, the only dog allowed to follow to thesheepfolds, marched decorously along, proud of the distinction.Then she went up to Lady Archfield, who could not be perfectly easyas to the precious grandchild being left to his own devices in thecold, while Sir Philip was sure to run into a discussion with theshepherd over the turnips, which were too much of a novelty to beapproved by the Hampshire mind. It was quite true that she couldnot watch that little adventurous spirit with the same absence ofanxiety as she had felt for her own son in her younger days, andAnne had to devote herself to soothing and diverting her mind, tillDr. Woodford knocked at the door to read and converse with her.
The one o'clock dinner waited for the grandfather and grandson, andwhen they came at last, little Philip looked somewhat blue with coldand more subdued than usual, and his grandfather observed severelythat he had been a naughty boy, running into dangerous places,sliding where he ought not, and then muttered under his breath thatSedley ought to have known better than to have let him go there.
Discipline did not permit even a darling like little Phil to speakat dinner-time; but he fidgeted, and the tears came into his eyes,and Anne hearing a little grunt behind Sir Philip's chair, lookedup, and was aware that old Ralph was mumbling what to her earssounded like: 'Knew too well.' But his master, being slightlydeaf, did not hear, and went on to talk of his lambs and of howSedley had joined them on the road, but had not come back to dinner.
Phil was certainly quieter than usual that afternoon, and sat atAnne's feet by the fire, filling little sacks with bran to be loadedon his toy cart to go to the mill, but not chattering as usual. Shethought him tired, and hearing a sort of sigh took him on her knee,when he rested his fair little head on her shoulder, and presentlysaid in a low voice--
"I've seen him."
"Who? Not your father? Oh, my child!" cried Anne, in a suddenhorror.
"Oh no--the Penny Grim thing."
"What? Tell me, Phil dear, how or where?"
"By the end of the great big pond; and he threw up his arms, andmade a horrid grin." The boy trembled and hid his face against her.
"But go on, Phil. He can't hurt you, you know. Do tell me. Wherewere you?"
"I was sliding on the ice. Grandpapa was ever so long talking toBill Shepherd, and looking at the men cutting turnips, and I gotcold and tired, and ran about with Cousin Sedley till we got to thebig pond, and we began to slide, and the ice was so nice and hard--you can't think. He showed me how to take a good long slide, andsaid I might go out to the other end of the pond by the copse, bythe great old tree. And I set off, but before I got there, out itjumped, out of the copse, and waved its arms, and made _that_ face."
He cowered into her bosom again and almost cried. Anne knew theplace, and was ready to start with dismay in her turn. It was sucha pool as is frequent in chalk districts--shallow at one end, butdeep and dangerous with springs at the other.
"But, Phil dear," she said, "it was well you were stopped; the icemost likely would have broken at that end, and then where wouldNana's little man have been?"
"Cousin Sedley never told me not," said the boy in self-defence; "hewas whistling to me to go on. But when I tumbled down Ralph andgrandpapa and all _did_ scold me so--and Cousin Sedley was gone.Why did they scold me, Nana? I thought it was brave not to minddanger--like papa."
"It is brave when one can do any good by it, but not to slide on badice, when one must be drowned," said Anne. "Oh, my dear, dearlittle fellow, it was a blessed thing you saw _that_, whatever itwas! But why do you call it Pere--Penny Grim?"
/> "It was, Nana! It was a little man--rather. And one-sided looking,with a bit of hair sticking out, just like the picture of Riquet-with-a-tuft in your French fairy-book."
This last was convincing to Anne that the child must have seen thephantom of seven years ago, since he was not repeating the populardescription he had given her in the morning, but one quite asindividual. She asked if grandpapa had seen it.
"Oh no; he was in the shed, and only came out when he heard Ralphscolding me. Was it a wicked urchin come to steal me, Nana?"
"No, I think not," she answered. "Whatever it was, I think it camebecause God was taking care of His child, and warning him fromsliding into the deep pool. We will thank him, Phil. 'He shallgive his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.'"And to that verse she soothed the tired child till he fell asleep,and she could lay him on the settle, and cover him with a cloak,musing the while on the strange story, until presently she startedup and repaired to the buttery in search of the old servant.
"Ralph, what is this Master Philip tells me?" she asked. "What hashe seen?"
"Well, Mistress Anne, that is what I can't tell--no, not I; but Iknows this, that the child has had a narrow escape of his preciouslife, and I'd never trust him again with that there Sedley--no, notfor hundreds of pounds."
"You _really_ think, Ralph--?"
"What can I think, ma'am? When I finds he's been a-setting thatthere child to slide up to where he'd be drownded as sure as he'salive, and you see, if we gets ill news of Master Archfield (whichGod forbid), there's naught but the boy atween him and this hereplace--and he over head and ears in debt. Be it what it might thatthe child saw, it saved the life of him."
"Did you see it?"
"No, Mistress Anne; I can't say as I did. I only heard the littlemaster cry out as he fell. I was in the shed, you see, taking apipe to keep me warm. And when I took him up, he cried out like onedazed. 'Twas Penny Grim, Ralph! Keep me. He is come to steal me."But Sir Philip wouldn't hear nothing of it, only blamed Master Philfor being foolhardy, and for crying for the fall, and me for lettinghim out of sight."
"And Mr. Sedley--did he see it?"
"Well, mayhap he did, for I saw him as white as a sheet and his eyesstaring out of his head; but that might have been his evilconscience."
"What became of him?"
"To say the truth, ma'am, I believe he be at the Brocas Arms, a-drowning of his fright--if fright it were, with Master Harling'sstrong waters."
"But this apparition, this shape--or whatever it is? What put itinto Master Philip's head? What has been heard of it?"
Ralph looked unwilling. "Bless you, Mistress Anne, there's beensome idle talk among the women folk, as how that there crooked slipof Major Oakshott's, as they called Master Perry or Penny, and saidwas a changeling, has been seen once and again. Some says as thefairies have got him, and 'tis the seven year for him to come backagain. And some says that he met with foul play, and 'tis the ghostof him, but I holds it all mere tales, and I be sure 'twere nothingbad as stopped little master on that there pond. So I be."
Anne could not but be of the same mind, but her confusion, alarm,and perplexity were great. It seemed strange, granting that thiswere either spirit or elf connected with Peregrine Oakshott, that itshould interfere on behalf of Charles Archfield's child, and on thesweet hypothesis that a guardian angel had come to save the child,it was in a most unaccountable form.
And more pressing than any such mysterious idea was the tangiblehorror of Ralph's suggestion, too well borne out by the boy's ownunconscious account of the adventure. It was too dreadful, too reala peril to be kept to herself, and she carried the story to heruncle on his return, but without speaking of the spectral warning.Not only did she know that he would not attend to it, but the hint,heard for the first time, that Peregrine was supposed to have metwith foul play, sealed her lips, just when she still was hopingagainst hope that Charles might be on the way home. But that Ralphbelieved, and little Philip's own account confirmed, that his cousinhad incited the little heir to the slide that would have been fatalsave for his fall, she told with detail, and entreated that thegrandfather might be warned, and some means be found of ensuring thesafety of her darling, the motherless child!
To her disappointment Dr. Woodford was not willing to take alarm.He did not think so ill of Sedley as to believe him capable of sucha secret act of murder, and he had no great faith in Ralph'ssagacity, besides that he thought his niece's nerves too muchstrained by the long suspense to be able to judge fairly. Hethought it would be cruel to the grandparents, and unjust to Sedley,to make such a frightful suggestion without further grounds duringtheir present state of anxiety, and as to the boy's safety, whichAnne pleaded with an uncontrollable passion of tears, he believedthat it was provided for by watchfulness on the part of his twoconstant guardians, as well as himself, since, even supposing theshocking accusation to be true, Sedley would not involve himself indanger of suspicion, and it was already understood that he was not afit companion for his little cousin to be trusted with. Philip hadalready brought home words and asked questions that distressed hisgrandmother, and nobody was willing to leave him alone with the ex-lieutenant. So again the poor maiden had to hold her peace under anadded burthen of anxiety and many a prayer.
When the country was ringing with the tidings of Sir GeorgeBarclay's conspiracy for the assassination of William III, it wasimpossible not to hope that Sedley's boastful tongue might havebrought him sufficiently under suspicion to be kept for a whileunder lock and key; but though he did not appear at Fareham, therewas reason to suppose that he was as usual haunting the taverns andcockpits of Portsmouth.
No one went much abroad that winter. Sir Philip, perhaps fromanxiety and fretting, had a fit of the gout, and Anne kept herselfand her charge within the garden or the street of the town. In factthere was a good deal of danger on the roads. The neighbourhood ofthe seaport was always lawless, and had become more so since SirPhilip had ceased to act as Justice of the Peace, and there werereports of highway robberies of an audacious kind, said to beperpetrated by a band calling themselves the Black Gang, under aleader known as Piers Pigwiggin, who were alleged to be halfsmuggler, half Jacobite, and to have their headquarters somewhere inthe back of the Isle of Wight, in spite of the Governor, theterrible Salamander, Lord Cutts, who was, indeed, generally absentwith the army.