By H. B. Marriott Watson

THE wind was a roaring tenant of the desolate chambers, and scurried through the house, filling the long bleak corridors with the sound of its furious passage. Out and aloft it screamed most melancholy in the pines, and flew round the corners and gables in claps of passion. The white night seemed in the possession of a thousand evil powers that mocked my solitary watch by her bedside. Anon her soul would flicker to her eyes; the lips would tremble; the lids would rise, and the slow unmeaning gaze rest for an instant upon me. And then again the lashes would fall, and life, impotent and weary, would droop and vanish from the beautiful clay. At that hour I felt no terror for my grievous sin; as we had loved so also had we lived—and the record of those few poor months was sacred to me. No distant thought of my wife came to me oversea; I had put her from my mind long since with the great sin that was my happiness. In that hour but one hope held me, but one fear. Without, the long drive ran upwards through the ragged woods towards the hills, and by that avenue must come the aid I looked for against this Death that shrieked about the house and wandered whining through the empty rooms. My glances strayed between that silent couch and the bare, shining road, my heart beating with fear as though it were I, not she, that drew nearer to the end. And, in truth, not she but I was wrestling with this spectre. In my thoughts I heard him crying in the night; I watched him on his rounds; between him and the the dying, I the living stood defiant—of my love I braved him there alone that night within the darkness. And, swollen to a monstrous horror, Fear kept me company, and all past delight, all future evil, laughed me to derision in its presence. Apart sat the one servant left me who had not fled that pest, a faithful guardian at the door, immediate to the slightest call, should any call sound here save that of Death above the noises of the night.

I could not catch her breathing; she opened her eyes in a smile, and the white teeth shone spectral in the twilight of the room. I bent to her shuddering—there was some whisper on those wavering lips, but the wind was gibbering like a devil at the windows.

‘To steal the last whisper,’ I cried, ‘that were worthy of God!’ and hid my face upon the couch.

It was at this instant there fell a sudden hush, and through the distant doorway he entered swiftly with the sharp clank of spurred feet. Turning, I beheld him white and furious against the light.

‘You have a cunning turn for escape,’ said he, ‘but it will not serve you long. Put a hound to the scent, and in the end he will lick his chops in blood.’

‘Hush!——’ I cried; but swifter than my swift voice he flung between me and my words.

‘Coward!’ he said, his jaw fixing upon the cry, and, raising a heavy hand, came in a stride upon me. I took him by the wrist, and besought him with my eyes.

‘Hush——,’ said I, and the voice choked in my throat so that I could but point a shivering finger to the couch and my white lily drawing unto death.

‘What is this?’ said he, and stared upon me.

‘The Plague,’ I muttered; but my words were low, and I seemed to speak to myself.

His white face was so close to mine that I could mark each line time had turned upon his cheeks, and I thought that his black eyes grew blacker, and a slow smile wrinkled about the moving lips. He said no word, but, walking to the bed, peered down upon his sister where she lay. I seemed to see her fading in and out of consciousness, as it were, with her heaving bosom, and her eyes I thought met his with that plaintive look of suffering that had tortured me through the long day. If this were so I know not surely, for at that moment the gravel rang with a clatter of hoofs, and, at the sound, I sprang towards the door. Then there broke in my old and faithful servant, and the wind flapped down upon us from the sky. I heard his voice calling through the noise, his thin hands gesticulating in the air; and at his words I stood struck dumb and cold.

‘No help!’ he cried, ‘no help! Nothing will avail now. The plague has taken the very servant on his errand,’ he moaned; ‘the plague! the plague!’

And, looking through the long windows, I could espy in the white night a great horse steaming from the nostrils, and a limp figure sprawling from the stirrup, stark and motionless.

I think I was now quit of my senses, for I turned and took the brother by the coat. ‘Man,’ I said, ‘ride as from Hell. Ride for this physician beyond the hills, and God will be with you upon this errand of pity. Ride!’ I cried. He shook me off and laughed.

‘Sir,’ said he, ‘you have mistaken. I am no serf or bondman of yours, but the mere brother of this pitiful creature who is like to redeem somewhat of our honour within this night.’

At these monstrous words I fell back, staring at his white and smiling face.

‘Why,’ said he lightly, ‘you will perceive the situation. These six months I have been minded to dissolve this pretty compact; and but that you hid yourself so deftly these hands had surely done it. But now the task is taken from them; she will herself dissolve it forthwith I doubt not. It is a sure way out of a mighty unpleasant case.’

He stood twiddling his thumbs and smiling at me.

‘This is an ill time for a jest,’ I cried, finding voice at last. ‘Ride, ride! for the devil is behind you.’

‘I regret,’ said he, ‘to find you at a loss for reason. You have no eye for logic at this moment, but it is obvious that your vision will be clearer by-and-by. You have a pleasant home,’ said he, glancing through the window, ‘but a trifle noisy on a windy night, and lonely in the time of plagues.’

‘God who made you,’ said I hoarsely, ‘judge you for this!’

‘I am the brother of this thing,’ said he, jerking his finger at the couch, ‘that soon shall be a corpse. With that she will have passed beyond the dishonour of our honourable house. And yet,’ he continued, as though at a sudden thought, ‘though she be no wife of yours, I have hopes you will conduct her obsequies in the decorous fashion of your race. It is said you toll the death-bell in these hours of dissolution. Though the plague have rid you of your domestics, I perceive a serviceable veteran here whom, doubtless, you will instruct in this proper ceremony.’

He paused as though for an answer, but I, speechless with horror and a growing madness, crouched back against the wall.

‘You are uncivil in your silence,’ he resumed. ‘No doubt it were distasteful in your eyes to treat your mistress as your wife. And yet you will pardon me if, out of respect for what is still the dying body of my kinswoman, I take upon myself to order this ceremony upon your behalf.’

He had scarce ceased ere I had flung upon him; but at that very second the life surged in my love once more, and with an inarticulate cry she raised her head. I threw him away and fell upon my knees beside her. Her breath went soft upon my cheek; her bosom palpitated and was still. Springing from the room, I rushed out of the house and leapt upon the panting horse before the door. Loosened by my leap, the plague-stricken, dusty body slipped from the stirrup and rolled full into the moonlight upon the gravel. I dashed my hands at the reins, spurred at the reeking beast, and faced the night bareheaded, clattering for the cliffs. The horse, overworn with the hard riding of her dead master and smitten, maybe, with something of the panic of that fearful countryside, shivered and trembled on her way. The fire was gone from her palsied limbs; her life was spent; her fore-legs splayed and staggered on the hard chalk; and stumbling from point to point we rolled together through the night. The winds now flew from all quarters upon us, and stung my sight so keenly that the lids fell with the quick pain. Out of the sea below they seemed to rise up and take the beast below her belly, lifting her from her traitor feet. From the front they sprang at her, chill and gusty, choking the hot breath back into her gaping throat. While ever from the black hills they dashed upon us both as though to swirl us in their company over the sheer cliffs, where the white sea ran shouting upon the walls below.

In this helpless fashion I had gone but a mile or so, and was come to where the mountain closes on the sea and leaves but a ribbon of pathway, when I was aware of a rider thundering in my rear. So great was his speed that I had but turned uneasily in my saddle when he swept by me; his pallid face gleamed for an instant in a set and cruel stare, and then he was past the corner in the distant gloom.

‘Ride! ride!’ I called; and my weak steed, struggling with the wind, followed behind him into the narrow pass. The great circle of the moon hung upon the sheer heights, and the silver streak of footway ran white along the cliff-verge. I had imagined him a penitent, assured that some grievous exhibition of his sister’s plight had at last made a call upon his humanity; and that he was thus tardily upon mine own errand. But as I entered upon the passage I perceived him standing there in the moonlight, his face turned full upon me, his horse at hand oblique across the pathway. As I rode up he raised an arm and checked me.

‘Upon second thoughts,’ he said, ‘I cannot perceive that the performance of her manifest duty acquits me of mine own. You will dismount.’

I gazed at him in stupefaction across the vapour from my horse’s nostrils.

‘Come, you are dull, you are dull,’ he went on impatiently. ‘You must know the consideration proper to her blood. Be done with your wonder and dismount. I have given the matter careful thought, and believe me it is the one thing possible.’

It was then for the first time I took his meaning, and the full significance of his hideous purpose flashed upon me. Passion choked my voice.

‘Out of my way!’ I whispered hoarsely.

‘Descend,’ he said; ‘or shall I break this creature under you. You make an uncommon fuss.’ He took a pistol from his belt. ‘Into the care of this,’ said he, ‘I have put my honour. Come.’

I ground my teeth and clenched my hand above my head.

‘Out of my way, devil!’ I cried, pushing the horse’s nose upon him.

He put it aside.

‘Nay,’ said he easily, ‘you may perhaps ride on hereafter if you have the occasion left you. By my soul, we must settle on this spot, if I should pull you from the saddle. Your mistress shall find a fitting burial, I promise you, in the tail of the morrow. Dismount, my craven!’

The madness rushed upon me in a flood, and I bent low upon my horse’s neck.

‘Out of my way!’ I repeated.

He laughed. I struck my heels deep in the flanks, and with a start the beast leapt forward upon the white face in the path. His horse behind him swerved and pulled, backing upon the cliff: The winds dropped from the heights in a gust. Spurring, I drove at him. I saw the forefeet of my horse poised in the air a moment, and then with a plunge she flung herself free upon the empty path; while with a sharp neigh of terror that other creature rolled in a tangle with the white, set face, slipped o’er the verge, and fell from peak to peak down the great precipice below.

And at that instant the shrill wind came crying round the pillars of the hills, and I could hear far off and desolately still the sound of a dull bell booming through the night.