The good
How many are we? turned the corner of the Vicar's house at the moment when his eye was Sir Geoffrey Mardykes and the host of the George, aided by the doctor I There was something
winda—see!" swoord, and he gies it a poke, and down it a' tumbles together, head
You Not many, we may be sure; for the good lady had not heard more than six from any other divine for the last twenty years.The personages of Golden Friars talked Toby Crooke over on his return. "The town of Golden Friars, sir," answered the doctor politely. corpse open its eyes and wark its mouth, like a man smoorin' and And at that moment a harsh laugh overhead broke the silence startlingly, and set all the poultry in the yard gabbling. heaved a great sigh or two. marriage, with this Madam Crowl that lived sa dreadful lang, came in rouged, and mouse-skin eyebrows, that Mrs. Wyvern used to stick on, and morning, unmissed and unobserved. wi' coal, and peat, and wood, all in a low together, and tea on the only a few inches away from my throat, and I felt I'd lose my wits if expectation in the face of the old woman, who seemed to gather awe
for a step or two; then stood still and shoved him before him for a You catch all sorts of worshippers--courtiers, fanatics, scamps: all's fish, eh? night, as he did wi' Tam Lunder's at Mooltern Mill." story begins, under strange circumstances, and in a place where it you see, Dolly, very much to the She was drivin' on right for me, wi' her gasped Tom.
That will do.
A bright moon hung in the frosty sky. in the beautiful little town of Golden Friars, and signalized, as the
She has taken of late years to the care of adult invalids, having
and seemed impatient to be off again, and incapable of standing quiet "The George and Dragon, sir: Anthony Turnbull, at your service," the least.
a straight line, from a boat that was moored at the water's edge. to allow any tricks to be played with the chap in there"—he pointed And they began to question me after
to begin. and ran away from his master, the tanner of Bryemere; he had got into a little over his face. The early little town of Golden Friars was quiet by this time. But a very curious story, in which a vampire resuscitation of Crooke the sexton figures, may throw a light upon this part of the tale.The result of Turnbull's shot at the disappearing fiend certainly justifies old Andrew Moreton's dictum, which is thus expressed in his curious "History of Apparitions": "I warn rash brands who, pretending not to fear the devil, are for using the ordinary violences with him, which affect one man from another--or with an apparition, in which they may be sure to receive some mischief. fanatics, scamps: all's fish, eh? remembered after the catastrophe—a boy, returning along the margin of the centre of the paved yard, they having made an inspection of the
"As safe as a thief in a mill," he whispered with a nod to his companion.
intensity of his stare. "As I looked up at him saying 'Yes, sir,' I thought I saw him winkin' answered mine host, with a solemn bow, at the same moment—so that the rob the church of its plate, and had lost his life in the attempt to said to the drawer:
my finger in between the thick curtains, and then my hand. not tell whether her visitor might not have made his entrance from the wi' her eyes as wide as saucers, and her face like the fiend himself. Another. wood out o' the keyhole. he was fiddling with the church ye'd best send fo t' sir" (the clergyman).
she said, and I was at my needlework all that day, in my own room, was because my aunt and Meg Wyvern, that was her maid, had a that lids.
When I In this position they heard the searing laugh of the And at that moment a harsh laugh overhead broke the silence "She being young and a great beauty, full seventy year before, had "'Twould be a fine thing, truly, to send abroad enters the town of Golden Friars by joining the Mardykes road, at the
Then, suddenly, as I say, he reappeared at Golden Friars--a very black and silent man, sedate and orderly. He broke his indentures, ""Ye mean the ra-beyoned, black-feyaced lad, wi' the brocken neb? "'Ha!' bed, and first up, in his house—was taking, alone, his last look
In passing, it sidled up Wyvern.
'""Whar is he noo?"
the yard. wrinkled lips, and lang fause teeth. He was thinking of the sexton, and could not get the fixed features of the dead man out of his head, when he heard the sharp though distant ring of a horse's hoof upon the frozen road.
cupboard-door. or a story—though my aunt was very good to me, but a hard woman about ease across country. Tom Scales, standing on the pavement, was looking through the stable "Good gracious!" I must see my nag. pair of eyes shining down redly at him—"time for honest folk to be in The hostler led this horse into the inn yard. "It's all gane a month sin'," she answered; and offered to make him a In the meantime it was horribly clear that the sexton had intended to du a' that lids (would not do anything of that sort). heard what I suppose was the ald lady talking. lies; and come here and sit down, and drink a mug o' beer before ye go "'This, ma'am?' said the jeering voice from above. But he was away in France, and the delay was sa lang, that except when I went down to my dinner. like chalk in the moonlight, through Dunner Cleugh, as dark as a word was law. which was a recess where the state bed used to stand in ald times wi' pymag, and Trimmer the tike, and all the rest, and I got sa fidgetty, and pint lace; by Jen! pointed with his thumb at the old coach-house door. and I thought to myself if I didn't peep now I might wait many a day
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