The key was gone. There was no time to be lost. Who could tell what they
might do to-morrow, if already they were taking precautions against her
madness? I would try the key of a neighbouring door, and if that would
not fit, I would burst the door open, and take the chance. As it was,
the key fitted the lock, and the door opened. We locked it again on the
outside, restored the key, and in another moment were in the haunted
chamber. Alice was dressed, ready for flight. To me, it was very
pathetic to see her in the shapes of years gone by. She looked faded and
ancient, notwithstanding that this was the dress in which I had seen her
so often of old. Her stream had been standing still, while mine had
flowed on. She was a portrait of my own young Alice, a picture of her
own former self.
One or two lights glancing about below detained us for a little while.
We were standing near the window, feeling now very anxious to be clear
of the house; Alice was holding me and leaning on me with the essence of
trust; when, all at once, she dropped my arm, covered her face with her
hands, and called out: “The horse with the clanking shoe!” At the same
moment, the heavy door which communicated with this part of the house
flew open with a crash, and footsteps came hurrying along the passage. A
light gleamed into the room, and by it I saw that Lady Alice, who was
standing close to me still, was gazing, with flashing eyes, at the door.
She whispered hurriedly:
“I remember it all now, Duncan. My brain is all right. It is come again.
But they shall not part us this time. You follow me for once.”
As she spoke, I saw something glitter in her hand. She had caught up an
old Malay creese that lay in a corner, and was now making for the door,
at which half a dozen domestics were by this time gathered. They, too,
saw the glitter, and made way. I followed close, ready to fell the first
who offered to lay hands on her. But she walked through them unmenaced,
and, once clear, sped like a bird into the recesses of the old house.
One fellow started to follow. I tripped him up. I was collared by
another. The same instant he lay by his companion, and I followed Alice.
She knew the route well enough, and I overtook her in the great hall. We
heard pursuing feet rattling down the echoing stair. To enter my room
and bolt the door behind us was a moment’s work; and a few moments more
took us into the alley of the kitchen-garden. With speedy, noiseless
steps, we made our way to the park, and across it to the door in the
fence, where Wood was waiting for us, old Constancy pawing the ground
with impatience for a good run.
He had had enough of it before twelve hours were over.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account