There were not many of the little
caskets--it is astounding what a small space will contain a many
precious gems. They easily fitted into the bag which I had brought for
the purpose. Then we took our way back to the house.
When we had ascended, we put out the lights and locked the cellar. We
changed our clothes again, Marjory putting on her livery; it was now
nearly four o'clock in the morning, and it was time to be getting back
to Crom.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE DUTY OF A WIFE
Just as we were about to start Marjory said to me, half in jest but
wholly in earnest:
"I wonder what has become of Gormala these times. If she knew of the
last two nights, she would simply become desperate; and there is no
knowing what she might prophecy!"
Strangely enough, I had been myself thinking of the Witch-woman. I
suppose it was that the memory of the finding of the treasure, and
of the hovering near us of death, had recalled her weirds. With the
thought of her, came once more that strange feeling which I had before
experienced, a feeling as if she were present. Motioning to Marjory to
put out the light, I stole to the window. The heavy curtains, when I had
passed through them, shut out the glimmer of the firelight. Marjory came
and joined me, and we looked out together. There were drifting clouds,
and thus, moments of light and shadow. In one of the former I saw a dark
mass on the edge of the deep grass that crowns the rock just over the
entrance of Witsennan Point. If it was a woman it was probably Gormala;
and if it was Gormala she was probably watching me, for of course she
could not know that Marjory was with me. I determined to find out if I
could; so I told Marjory to slip out by the back door whilst I went to
the point. We arranged to join at the upper village of old Whinnyfold.
Having placed my bicycle ready to start, and shut the door behind me
softly, I stole over to the cliff. Lying just below the edge, but so
that her head was at the top lay Gormala, asleep. At first I thought
it was pretence, for I knew the wily nature of the old woman; but on
examining closely I found her sleep was real. She looked worn and tired
out, and I concluded that it was the second night of watching on end
which had finished her. It was well she slept, for had she been awake
she must have seen us. The place she had chosen commanded both paths
away from the house left and right; only by stealing back over the hill
and keeping the house all the time between us and herself could we have
avoided her prying eyes. Even then, were there light enough, she might
have seen us debouching on the roadway had we gone inland by Whinnyfold.
I could not but be sorry for her; she looked so old and feeble, and
yet with such purpose in her strong, stern face. I could afford to be
pitiful now; my life was running on happy lines. I had won Marjory, and
we had found the treasure!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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