For a long while (as it seemed) I stared down (into this water) scarce daring to move lest I plunge into this dreadful abyss where the black water, lapping sluggishly, made stealthy menacing noises very evil to hear. At last I turned about (and mighty careful) and so made my ways up and out of this unhallowed place more painfully than I had come. Reaching the cave at last (and very thankful) I sought to close the door, but found it to resist my efforts. This but made me the more determined to shut out this evil place with its cold-breathing air, and I began to examine this door to discover the reason of its immobility. Now this (as I have said) was a narrow door and set betwixt jambs and with lintel above very strong and excellent well contrived; but as I lifted my candle to view it better I stopped all at once to stare up at a something fixed midway in this lintel, a strange shrivelled black thing very like to a great spider with writhen legs updrawn; and now, peering closer, I saw this was a human hand hacked off midway 'twixt wrist and elbow and skewered to the lintel by a great nail. And as I stood staring up at this evil thing, from somewhere in the black void beyond the door rose a long, agonised wailing that rose to a bubbling shriek; and though I knew this for no more than some trick of the wind, I felt my flesh tingle to sudden chill. Howbeit I lifted my candle higher yet, and thus saw beneath this shrivelled, claw-like hand a parchment nailed very precisely at its four corners, though black with dust. Wiping this dust away I read these words, very fair writ in bold, clear characters: JAMES BALLANTYNE HIS HAND WHEREWITH HE FOULLY MURDERED A GOOD MAN. THIS HAND CUT OFF BY ME THIS JUNE 23 1642. THE SAME BALLANTYNE HAVING PERISHED SUDDENLY BY A PISTOL SHOT ACCORDING TO MY OATH. LIKE ROGUES--TAKE WARNING.
ADAM PENFEATHER.
In a while I turned from this hateful thing, and coming to the bed began to examine the huddle of goatskins, and though full of dust and something stiff, found them little the worse for their long disuse; the same applied equally to the sailcloth, the which, though yellow, was still strong and serviceable. Reaching the firelock from the corner I found it to be furnished with a snaphaunce or flintlock, and though very rusty, methought cleaned and oiled it might make me a very good weapon had I but powder and shot for it. But the bandoliers held in all but two poor charges, which powder I determined to keep for the pistol. Therefore I set the musket back in the corner, and doing so espied a book that lay open and face down beneath the bedstead. Taking it up I wiped off the dust, and opening this book at the first page I came on this: ADAM PENFEATHER HYS JOURNAL 1642.