The cottage was of grey stone, a clumsy rugged-looking habitation set on
the side of a purple-clothed hill, beside a grass-grown lane, which
meandered down the valley. On the slope of the hill were many disused
mining shafts with huge mounds of earth and ruined buildings beside
them. The hilltops had been a Roman camp, and the boundaries could still
be defined. In the centre and amongst many gigantic stones was a
sacrificial altar of the Druids, with grooves cut in its hardness so
that the blood of the victims might stream to the ground. Alice never
liked this unholy hill, as she was sensitive enough to feel the
influence which clung round it. But Narvaez had established his home
beside the miniature mountain, because on moonless nights he could
perform uncanny ceremonies on the altar, which was given over to the
Dark Powers he worshipped and propitiated. Enistor had likewise taken
part in these sacrilegious doings and shivered at the memory of certain
things, when he sighted the sinister grey monoliths which crowned the
hill. Great as was his courage, it was not entirely proof against the
deadly influences of the evil beings who haunted the place, although in
a lesser degree than Narvaez he could compel them to service by
performing certain rites.
Enistor was ushered into Don Pablo's study by the housekeeper, a
brown-faced cheery old woman, too simple-minded to understand her
master's weird powers. The apartment was of no great size, and the
limited space was but sparsely furnished. There were only a table, which
served as a desk, two chairs, a well-filled bookcase and a ponderous
iron safe, wherein Narvaez stored what valuables he had by him. The
walls were draped with dull red cloth, and the floor, oddly enough, was
covered with a black carpet. The effect was menacing and impressive.
When the visitor entered, a fire-place wherein large logs flamed faced
him, while opposite the one window looking out on to the hilltop was a
closed door leading to a sealed apartment, which Don Pablo allowed no
one to enter into save himself and his pupil. Across the passage was a
dining-room together with a tiny kitchen and a bedroom for the
housekeeper at the back. The cottage itself was placed in a disorderly
uncultivated garden surrounded by a loosely built stone wall. There was
no upstairs, and the house being roofed with slate covered with moss
presented a sombre appearance. In its greyness it resembled a huge toad
squatting amongst the heather.
"How can you bear a fire on this hot day?" asked Enistor, throwing
himself into the vacant chair and speaking irritably.
"You are in that kind of humour which seeks any outlet for its relief,"
was the Spaniard's irrelevant reply. "How often have I told you that it
is necessary for you to get complete command of your temper. I have a
fire because this body I occupy just now is nearly worn out and requires
artificial heat to sustain it."
"Why don't you get a new one?" demanded the visitor still crossly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account