Ghost Stories of an Antiquary
“But, of course, the principal object was to find the Abbot’s house.
There is no prescribed place for this, so far as I know, in the plan of
a monastery; you can’t predict of it, as you can of the chapter-house,
that it will be on the eastern side of the cloister, or, as of the
dormitory, that it will communicate with a transept of the church. I
felt that if I asked many questions I might awaken lingering memories
of the treasure, and I thought it best to try first to discover it for
myself. It was not a very long or difficult search. That three-sided
court south-east of the church, with deserted piles of building round
it, and grass-grown pavement, which you saw this morning, was the
place. And glad enough I was to see that it was put to no use, and was
neither very far from our inn nor overlooked by any inhabited building;
there were only orchards and paddocks on the slopes east of the church.
I can tell you that fine stone glowed wonderfully in the rather watery
yellow sunset that we had on the Tuesday afternoon.
“Next, what about the well? There was not much doubt about that, as you
can testify. It is really a very remarkable thing. That curb is, I
think, of Italian marble, and the carving I thought must be Italian
also. There were reliefs, you will perhaps remember, of Eliezer and
Rebekah, and of Jacob opening the well for Rachel, and similar
subjects; but, by way of disarming suspicion, I suppose, the Abbot had
carefully abstained from any of his cynical and allusive inscriptions.
“I examined the whole structure with the keenest interest, of course—a
square well-head with an opening in one side; an arch over it, with a
wheel for the rope to pass over, evidently in very good condition
still, for it had been used within sixty years, or perhaps even later,
though not quite recently. Then there was the question of depth and
access to the interior. I suppose the depth was about sixty to seventy
feet; and as to the other point, it really seemed as if the Abbot had
wished to lead searchers up to the very door of his treasure-house,
for, as you tested for yourself, there were big blocks of stone bonded
into the masonry, and leading down in a regular staircase round and
round the inside of the well.
“It seemed almost too good to be true. I wondered if there was a
trap—if the stones were so contrived as to tip over when a weight was
placed on them; but I tried a good many with my own weight and with my
stick, and all seemed, and actually were, perfectly firm. Of course, I
resolved that Brown and I would make an experiment that very night.
“I was well prepared. Knowing the sort of place I should have to
explore, I had brought a sufficiency of good rope and bands of webbing
to surround my body, and cross-bars to hold to, as well as lanterns and
candles and crowbars, all of which would go into a single carpet-bag
and excite no suspicion. I satisfied myself that my rope would be long
enough, and that the wheel for the bucket was in good working order,
and then we went home to dinner.
“I had a little cautious conversation with the landlord, and made out
that he would not be overmuch surprised if I went out for a stroll with
my man about nine o’clock, to make (Heaven forgive me!) a sketch of the
abbey by moonlight. I asked no questions about the well, and am not
likely to do so now. I fancy I know as much about it as anyone in
Steinfeld: at least”—with a strong shudder—“I don’t want to know any
more.
“Now we come to the crisis, and, though I hate to think of it, I feel
sure, Gregory, that it will be better for me in all ways to recall it
just as it happened. We started, Brown and I, at about nine with our
bag, and attracted no attention; for we managed to slip out at the
hinder end of the inn-yard into an alley which brought us quite to the
edge of the village. In five minutes we were at the well, and for some
little time we sat on the edge of the well-head to make sure that no
one was stirring or spying on us. All we heard was some horses cropping
grass out of sight farther down the eastern slope. We were perfectly
unobserved, and had plenty of light from the gorgeous full moon to
allow us to get the rope properly fitted over the wheel. Then I secured
the band round my body beneath the arms. We attached the end of the
rope very securely to a ring in the stonework. Brown took the lighted
lantern and followed me; I had a crowbar. And so we began to descend
cautiously, feeling every step before we set foot on it, and scanning
the walls in search of any marked stone.
“Half aloud I counted the steps as we went down, and we got as far as
the thirty-eighth before I noted anything at all irregular in the
surface of the masonry. Even here there was no mark, and I began to
feel very blank, and to wonder if the Abbot’s cryptogram could possibly
be an elaborate hoax. At the forty-ninth step the staircase ceased. It
was with a very sinking heart that I began retracing my steps, and when
I was back on the thirty-eighth—Brown, with the lantern, being a step
or two above me—I scrutinized the little bit of irregularity in the
stonework with all my might; but there was no vestige of a mark.
“Then it struck me that the texture of the surface looked just a little
smoother than the rest, or, at least, in some way different. It might
possibly be cement and not stone. I gave it a good blow with my iron
bar. There was a decidedly hollow sound, though that might be the
result of our being in a well. But there was more. A great flake of
cement dropped on to my feet, and I saw marks on the stone underneath.
I had tracked the Abbot down, my dear Gregory; even now I think of it
with a certain pride. It took but a very few more taps to clear the
whole of the cement away, and I saw a slab of stone about two feet
square, upon which was engraven a cross. Disappointment again, but only
for a moment. It was you, Brown, who reassured me by a casual remark.
You said, if I remember right:
“‘It’s a funny cross: looks like a lot of eyes.’
“I snatched the lantern out of your hand, and saw with inexpressible
pleasure that the cross _was_ composed of seven eyes, four in a
vertical line, three horizontal. The last of the scrolls in the window
was explained in the way I had anticipated. Here was my ‘stone with the
seven eyes’. So far the Abbot’s data had been exact, and, as I thought
of this, the anxiety about the ‘guardian’ returned upon me with
increased force. Still, I wasn’t going to retreat now.
“Without giving myself time to think, I knocked away the cement all
round the marked stone, and then gave it a prise on the right side with
my crowbar. It moved at once, and I saw that it was but a thin light
slab, such as I could easily lift out myself, and that it stopped the
entrance to a cavity. I did lift it out unbroken, and set it on the
step, for it might be very important to us to be able to replace it.
Then I waited for several minutes on the step just above. I don’t know
why, but I think to see if any dreadful thing would rush out. Nothing
happened. Next I lit a candle, and very cautiously I placed it inside
the cavity, with some idea of seeing whether there were foul air, and
of getting a glimpse of what was inside. There _was_ some foulness of
air which nearly extinguished the flame, but in no long time it burned
quite steadily. The hole went some little way back, and also on the
right and left of the entrance, and I could see some rounded
light-coloured objects within which might be bags. There was no use in
waiting. I faced the cavity, and looked in. There was nothing
immediately in the front of the hole. I put my arm in and felt to the
right, very gingerly….
“Just give me a glass of cognac, Brown. I’ll go on in a moment,
Gregory….
“Well, I felt to the right, and my fingers touched something curved,
that felt—yes—more or less like leather; dampish it was, and evidently
part of a heavy, full thing. There was nothing, I must say, to alarm
one. I grew bolder, and putting both hands in as well as I could, I
pulled it to me, and it came. It was heavy, but moved more easily than
I had expected. As I pulled it towards the entrance, my left elbow
knocked over and extinguished the candle. I got the thing fairly in
front of the mouth and began drawing it out. Just then Brown gave a
sharp ejaculation and ran quickly up the steps with the lantern. He
will tell you why in a moment. Startled as I was, I looked round after
him, and saw him stand for a minute at the top and then walk away a few
yards. Then I heard him call softly, ‘All right, sir,’ and went on
pulling out the great bag, in complete darkness. It hung for an instant
on the edge of the hole, then slipped forward on to my chest, and _put
its arms round my neck_.
“My dear Gregory, I am telling you the exact truth. I believe I am now
acquainted with the extremity of terror and repulsion which a man can
endure without losing his mind. I can only just manage to tell you now
the bare outline of the experience. I was conscious of a most horrible
smell of mould, and of a cold kind of face pressed against my own, and
moving slowly over it, and of several—I don’t know how many—legs or
arms or tentacles or something clinging to my body. I screamed out,
Brown says, like a beast, and fell away backward from the step on which
I stood, and the creature slipped downwards, I suppose, on to that same
step. Providentially the band round me held firm. Brown did not lose
his head, and was strong enough to pull me up to the top and get me
over the edge quite promptly. How he managed it exactly I don’t know,
and I think he would find it hard to tell you. I believe he contrived
to hide our implements in the deserted building near by, and with very
great difficulty he got me back to the inn. I was in no state to make
explanations, and Brown knows no German; but next morning I told the
people some tale of having had a bad fall in the abbey ruins, which, I
suppose, they believed. And now, before I go further, I should just
like you to hear what Brown’s experiences during those few minutes
were. Tell the Rector, Brown, what you told me.”
“Well, sir,” said Brown, speaking low and nervously, “it was just this
way. Master was busy down in front of the ’ole, and I was ’olding the
lantern and looking on, when I ’eard somethink drop in the water from
the top, as I thought. So I looked up, and I see someone’s ’ead lookin’
over at us. I s’pose I must ha’ said somethink, and I ’eld the light up
and run up the steps, and my light shone right on the face. That was a
bad un, sir, if ever I see one! A holdish man, and the face very much
fell in, and larfin’, as I thought. And I got up the steps as quick
pretty nigh as I’m tellin’ you, and when I was out on the ground there
warn’t a sign of any person. There ’adn’t been the time for anyone to
get away, let alone a hold chap, and I made sure he warn’t crouching
down by the well, nor nothink. Next thing I hear master cry out
somethink ’orrible, and hall I see was him hanging out by the rope,
and, as master says, ’owever I got him up I couldn’t tell you.”
“You hear that, Gregory?” said Mr Somerton. “Now, does any explanation
of that incident strike you?”
“The whole thing is so ghastly and abnormal that I must own it puts me
quite off my balance; but the thought did occur to me that possibly
the—well, the person who set the trap might have come to see the
success of his plan.”
“Just so, Gregory, just so. I can think of nothing else so—_likely_, I
should say, if such a word had a place anywhere in my story. I think it
must have been the Abbot…. Well, I haven’t much more to tell you. I
spent a miserable night, Brown sitting up with me. Next day I was no
better; unable to get up; no doctor to be had; and, if one had been