Curious, if True: Strange TalesGaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn
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Curious, if True: Strange Tales
Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn
Curiosities and wonders -- Fiction; Horror tales; Short stories
'I can't help it, dear, dear Hester,' said she, crying, 'if they did
not; I never looked at her feet, but she held my hand fast and tight in
her little one, and it was very, very cold. She took me up the
Fell-path, up to the holly-trees; and there I saw a lady weeping and
crying; but when she saw me, she hushed her weeping, and smiled very
proud and grand, and took me on her knee, and began to lull me to
sleep; and that's all, Hester--but that is true; and my dear mamma
knows it is,' said she, crying. So I thought the child was in a fever,
and pretended to believe her, as she went over her story--over and over
again, and always the same. At last Dorothy knocked at the door with
Miss Rosamond's breakfast; and she told me the old ladies were down in
the eating parlour, and that they wanted to speak to me. They had both
been into the night-nursery the evening before, but it was after Miss
Rosamond was asleep; so they had only looked at her--not asked me any
questions.
'I shall catch it,' thought I to myself, as I went along the north
gallery. 'And yet,' I thought, taking courage, 'it was in their charge
I left her; and it's they that's to blame for letting her steal away
unknown and unwatched.' So I went in boldly, and told my story. I told
it all to Miss Furnivall, shouting it close to her ear; but when I came
to the mention of the other little girl out in the snow, coaxing and
tempting her out, and willing her up to the grand and beautiful lady by
the holly-tree, she threw her arms up--her old and withered arms--and
cried aloud, 'Oh! Heaven forgive! Have mercy!'
Mrs. Stark took hold of her; roughly enough, I thought; but she was
past Mrs. Stark's management, and spoke to me, in a kind of wild
warning and authority.
'Hester! keep her from that child! It will lure her to her death! That
evil child! Tell her it is a wicked, naughty child.' Then, Mrs. Stark
hurried me out of the room; where, indeed, I was glad enough to go; but
Miss Furnivall kept shrieking out, 'Oh, have mercy! Wilt Thou never
forgive! It is many a long year ago----'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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