Christian life -- Fiction; Clergy -- England -- Fiction; Paranormal fiction; Short stories, English
“As he came quite close to us, as we lay hardly daring to breathe, I saw
one of his hands that hung in front of him, opening and shutting; and
that it was stained with what looked black in the moonlight. He did not
see us, as by now we were hidden by a great bramble bush, and he passed
on down the path; and then all was silent again.
“When a few minutes had passed in perfect stillness, we got up and went
on, but neither of us cared to walk in the path down which those two
terrible dripping things had come; and we went stumbling over the broken
ground, keeping a parallel course to the path for about another two
hundred yards. Jack had begun to recover himself, and even began to talk
and laugh at being frightened at a pig and an old man. He told me
afterwards that he had not seen the old man’s hand.
“Then the path began to lead uphill. At this point I suddenly stopped
Jack.
“‘Do you see nothing?’ I asked.
“Now I scarcely remember what I said or did. But this is what my friend
told me afterwards. Jack said there was nothing but a little rising
ground in front, from which the trees stood back.
“‘Do you see nothing on the top of the mound? Out in the open, where the
moonlight falls on her?’
“Jack told me afterwards that he thought I had gone suddenly mad, and
grew frightened himself.
“‘Do you not see a woman standing there? She has long yellow hair in two
braids; she has thick gold bracelets on her bare arms. She has a tunic,
bound by a girdle, and it comes below her knees: and she has red jewels
in her hair, on her belt, on her bracelets; and her eyes shine in the
moonlight: and she is waiting,––waiting for that which has escaped.’
“Now Jack tells me that when I said this I fell flat on my face, with my
hands stretched out, and began to talk: but he said he could not
understand a word I said. He himself looked steadily at the rising
ground, but there was nothing to be seen there: there were the fir-trees
standing in a circle round it, and a bare space in the middle, from
which the heather was gone, and that was all. This mound would be about
fifteen yards from us.
“I lay there, said Jack, a few minutes, and then sat up and looked about
me. Then I remembered for myself that I had seen the pig and the old
man, but nothing more: but I was terrified at the remembrance, and
insisted upon our striking out a new course through the wood, and
leaving the mound to our left. I did not know myself why the mound
frightened me, but I dared not go near it. Jack wisely did not say
anything more about it until afterwards. We presently found our way out
of the copse, struck across the heath for another half-mile or so, and
then came across a road which Jack knew, and so we came home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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