Now, as I went, my mind was greatly exercised as to a feasible
explanation of what I had just heard. That a man so old as the
Ancient should "see things" I could readily believe, by reason of
his years, for great age is often subject to such hallucinations,
but with Simon, a man in the prime of his life, it was a different
matter altogether. That he had been absolutely sincere in his
story I had read in his dilating eye and the involuntary shiver
that had passed over him while he spoke. Here indeed, though I
scouted all idea of supernatural agency, there lay a mystery that
piqued my curiosity not a little.
Ghosts!--pshaw! What being, endowed with a reasoning mind, could
allow himself to think, let alone believe in such folly? Ghosts
--fiddle-de-dee, Sir!
Yet here, and all at once, like an enemy from the dark, old
stories leaped at and seized me by the throat: old tales of
spectres grim and bloody, of goblins, and haunted houses from
whose dim desolation strange sounds would come; tales long since
heard, and forgot--till now.
Ghosts! Why, the road was full of them; they crowded upon my
heels, they peered over my shoulders; I felt them brush my
elbows, and heard them gibbering at me from the shadows.
And the sun was setting already!
Ghosts! And why not? "There are more things in heaven and earth
than are dreamed of in your philosophy."
Involuntarily I hastened my steps, but the sun had set ere I
reached the Hollow. Yes, the sun had set, and the great basin
below me was already brimful of shadows which, as I watched,
seemed to assume shapes--vast, nebulous, and constantly changing
--down there amid the purple gloom of the trees. Indeed, it
looked an unholy place in the half light, a pit framed for
murders, and the safe hiding of tell-tale corpses, the very haunt
of horrid goblins and spectres, grim and ghastly.
So evilly did the place impress me that it needed an effort of
will ere I could bring myself to descend the precipitous slope.
Bats flitted to and fro across my path, now and then, emitting
their sharp, needlelike note, while, from somewhere in the
dimness beyond, an owl hooted.
By the time I reached the cottage, it had fallen quite dark, here
in the Hollow, though the light still lingered in the world
above. So I took out my tinder-box, and one of the candles,
which, after several failures, I succeeded in lighting, and,
stepping into the cottage, began to look about me.
The place was small, as I think I have before said, and comprised
two rooms shut off from each other by a strong partition with a
door midway. Lifting the candle, I glanced at the staple on
which the builder of the cottage had choked out his life so many
years ago, and, calling to mind the Ancient's fierce desire to
outlast it, I even reached up my hand and gave it a shake. But,
despite the rust of years, the iron felt as strong and rigid as
ever, so that it seemed the old man's innocent wish must go
unsatisfied after all. The second room appeared much the same
size as the first, and like it in all respects, till, looking
upwards, I noticed a square trap door in a corner, while
underneath, against the wall, hung a rough ladder. This I
proceeded to lift down, and mounting, cautiously lifted the trap.
Holding the candle above my head to survey this chamber, or
rather garret, the first object my eye encountered was a small
tin pannikin, and beyond that a stone jar, or demijohn. Upon
closer inspection I found this last to be nearly full of water
quite sweet and fresh to the taste, which, of itself, was
sufficient evidence that some one had been here very lately.
I now observed a bundle of hay in one corner, which had clearly
served for a bed, beside which were a cracked mug, a tin plate,
a pair of shoes, and an object I took to be part of a flute or
wind instrument of some kind. But what particularly excited my
interest were the shoes, which had evidently seen long and hard
service, for they were much worn, and had been roughly patched
here and there. Very big they were, and somewhat clumsy,
thick-soled, and square of toe, and with a pair of enormous
silver buckles.