CHAPTER XVI
HOW MR. DALROYD SAW A GHOST AND THE SERGEANT AN APPARITION
Mr. Dalroyd stepped out into a summer night radiant with moonbeams and full of the heady perfume of ripening hay. Far as eye could see the wide road stretched away very silent and deserted, not a light gleamed anywhere, the village had been deep-plunged in slumber hours ago.
Mr. Dalroyd sauntered on, past silent cottages, across a trim green and so to the churchyard gate, beyond which the tombstones rose, phantom-like beneath the moon. For a while he stood to contemplate this quiet scene, then started and glanced up at the church tower as a deep-toned bell began to chime the hour of midnight. One by one he counted the deliberate strokes, waited until the last had boomed and died away, then, opening the gate, stepped into the churchyard and strolled on among the graves, his cane airily a-swing, following the paved walk that led round the church. Thus he presently passed from light into shadow, a gloom all the deeper by contrast with the moon's bright splendour, a gloom in which carved headstone and sarcophagus took on strange and unexpected shapes. Suddenly Mr. Dalroyd's cane faltered in its airy swing, stopped, and he stood motionless, his body rigid, his breath in check, his eyes wide and staring. Before him loomed a great mausoleum, its pallid outline vague in the half-light, but on this side the weatherworn marble was cracked and split and from this yawning fissure a ghastly radiance streamed; then this unholy light vanished and upon the stillness came a ghostly rustling, a soft thud and the sound of heavy breathing. Mr. Dalroyd shrank cowering into the deeper shadow of a buttress and dropping his cane upon the grass groped for the hilt of his small-sword. Then, as he stared unwinking, forth from the tomb a dim form wriggled, crouched awhile fumbling, stood upright, and Mr. Dalroyd saw a vague head, awful and shapeless and crowned with curving horns. This dreadful thing stood awhile as if listening for distant sounds then took a stride forward, floundered over a grave and cursed fluently. Mr. Dalroyd loosed rigid fingers from his sword-hilt, picked up his cane and, keeping well in the shadow, began to follow this strange figure; ghost-like it flitted on among the tombs until, reaching the wall, it leapt nimbly over, stood to listen and glance furtively about, then set off down the road at a smart pace. Mr. Dalroyd, treading with infinite caution for the night was very still, followed whither it led, viewing the shapeless thing with gaze that never wavered. Thus, in a while, they reached a grassy bye-lane flanked on the one side by a thick hedge and on the other by a high wall. Here the figure paused and Mr. Dalroyd, shrinking into the shadow of the hedge, saw it glance up and down the lane, saw it lift long arms and heard a faint scuffling as, mounting this wall it paused awhile athwart the coping ere it vanished on the other side. Looping his cane on his wrist Mr. Dalroyd crossed the lane and drawing himself up peered over the wall in time to see this mysterious figure flit among the trees of an orchard, mount yet another wall and vanish again. Without more ado Mr. Dalroyd in turn clambered up and over the wall and dropping on soft, new-turned earth, continued the pursuit, that is to say he had crossed a smooth stretch of lawn and was in the very act of mounting the other wall when strong hands seized him from behind and a gruff voice said in his ear:
"You ain't no ghost, I'll swear! Right about turn and show us your face!" And Mr. Dalroyd was swung round so violently that his hat fell off. "Zounds!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "'tis nought but one o' these fine London sparks arter all!" Mr. Dalroyd swore. "Sir," said the Sergeant imperturbably, "why and wherefore d'ye trespass, and so late too? Sir, what's the evolution, or shall we say, manoover?"
"Rogue," said Mr. Dalroyd, "pick up my hat!"
"Rogue, is it?" mused the Sergeant.
"Animal, my hat!"
"Animal, now?"
"D'ye hear, vermin?" Mr. Dalroyd stood, his head viciously out-thrust so that the long curls of his peruke falling back from brow and cheek discovered more fully his haughty features, delicately pale in the bright moonlight; and beholding this face—its fine black brows, aquiline nose, fierce eyes and thin-lipped mouth the Sergeant fell back, staring:
"Zounds!" he exclaimed, and gaped.
Something in the Sergeant's attitude seemed to strike Mr. Dalroyd who, returning this searching look, lounged back against the wall, one hand toying with the curls of his wig, and when next he spoke his voice was as languidly soft as usual.
"What now, ass?" The Sergeant drew a deep breath:
"Talking o' ghosts and apparations," said he, "I aren't so sure as you ain't one, arter all."
"Why, worm?"
"Because if you happened to be wearing an officer's coat—red and blue facings, say, and your legs in a pair o' jack-boots, I should know—ah, I'd be sure you was a ghost."
"What d'ye mean?" Mr. Dalroyd's slender brows scowled suddenly, and before the malevolence of his eyes the Sergeant gave back another step.
"What d'ye mean, toad?"
"I mean as you'd be dead! But your coat ain't red, is it, sir? And your jack-boots is buckle-shoes, and you're very much alive, ain't you, sir—so I'll ax you to pick up your property and to get back over the wall yonder and to do it—prompt, sir."
The Sergeant was a powerful fellow, at his hip swung a heavy hanger and in hairy fist he gripped a very ugly, knobby bludgeon, observing which facts, Mr. Dalroyd did as was suggested; but, ere he dropped back into the lane he turned and smiled down at the stalwart Sergeant.
"My very good clod," said he, "one of these fine, sunny days you shall be drubbed for this—soundly, yes, soundly!"
The Sergeant nodded:
"Sir," said he, "same will be welcome, for, though life in the country agrees wi' me on the whole better than expected, things is apt to grow over quiet now and then and any little bit o' roughsome as you can offer will be dooly welcome and do me a power o' good!"
"Be it so!" nodded Mr. Dalroyd and, smiling, he dropped from view.
Then the Sergeant, whistling softly, strode bedwards quite unaware of the shapeless, horned head that watched him as he went.