The Coming of the King

by Joseph Hocking

I gathered that no one asked any questions why I was there; in truth, every man seemed too much interested in the coming of the king and the changes that would be wrought in the land to trouble aught about me; so, telling the landlord that I should not be back until late, I left the inn about an hour after sundown and took a roundabout road to Pycroft. Moreover, I took good heed that I was not followed, and by an hour before midnight I had entered the dark woods that grew around the lonely house.

Now, although I had carried a brave heart during daylight, I was not able to choke down my fears in the darkness. I have been told that nature hath given me firm nerves; moreover, I can meet a danger as well as another man without shewing fear, but once within the shadow of the woods which surrounded the haunted house I confess that my heart wellnigh failed me. The stories which the labourer had related came back to me with great vividness, so that before I had come within sight of the house I seemed to be surrounded with all sorts of grinning things, some of which lured me on, while others warned me against going farther. The cracking of every twig made my heart beat faster, the twitter of a startled bird told me that I was in a domain where the devil held his revels and where spirits of darkness worked their will.

Still I determined to go forward. I was calm enough to know that on the morrow I should laugh at these fancies, and that, did they hinder me from carrying out my plans now, I should all my life accuse myself of being a poltroon. Besides, what report should I have to give to my father, the man who knew no fear and who would be ashamed of a son who believed in old wives' fables? So I set my teeth firmly together and trudged my way through the darkness, stopping every now and then to listen if any one was near.

Never shall I forget my journey along that lonely pathway, for as I look back now, it seems to mark an era in my life. But of that I must not speak now: I will tell my story in as straightforward a way as I am able, so that those who read may judge for themselves. And yet, if I felt fear, I maintain that it was no wonder, for my experiences were not those with which a man meets every day. Besides, I had but three days left my home, where I had lived an uneventful life, and now to be cast alone amidst mystery and danger was a matter of no small moment.

Presently I emerged from the woods into the open space where the woman and I had stood on the previous night. I could see the moon, but it seemed to sail in a hazy light, while around it was a great ring. Not a sound could I hear. The songs of the birds had ceased; not an insect moved its wings: all nature seemed asleep. After waiting a few moments, scarce daring to look around me, I heard a sound like that of a distant sigh; but it might have been only the night wind soughing through the treetops, or it might have been only my own fancy. At length I dared to look towards the house; but all was darkness, or at least so it seemed. Then I noted that I stood on a different place from that on which I had been standing when I had parted from the woman the night before, and it might be that some angle hid the window I had seen then.

I therefore crept along the brushwood until I reached the same place, and then my heart gave a great bound. There, half hidden by the tree I had climbed, was a light shining from the window.

In a minute my ghostly fears vanished. What was the meaning of it all I did not know, but I determined that I would find out before the night was over. It is true I called to mind some of the things I had read in the writings of Master Will Shakespeare, as well as passages from the Holy Scriptures, all of which spoke with certainty concerning those who possessed familiar spirits; but these influenced me not one jot at the time. The light shone from the window as it had shone the night before, and in all probability the same old man occupied the room.

I therefore went swiftly across the open space towards the tree I have spoken of, and before one might well count twenty I had climbed to the branch whereon I had aforetime rested, and so again obtained view of the chamber. This I did because I feared to seek admission without taking precautions. If others were there as well as the old man, I might have to adopt methods different from those I should make use of if he were alone. I reflected that if what the woman Katharine Harcomb had told my father were true, and that the king's marriage contract were hidden in the house, he would guard it carefully. It was of too much importance to treat lightly. What I did, therefore, must be done warily, neither must I foolishly and with youthful wilfulness be led to betray myself.

As I have said, therefore, I again climbed the tree, and obtained a view of the chamber, and ere long saw the old man seated at a table, and by the aid of a lamp was reading some scrolls, which he had spread out before him. I watched him a few moments in silence, noting the eager look upon his face, and the evident ardour with which he sought to understand the writing on the parchment before him. Presently I saw him take certain powders from a drawer, and place them in a pot, into which he also poured some liquid. This done, he placed the pot on the fire, and watched the liquid with great care.

It was at this time that I determined to seek entrance. But how? I knew that every door was securely bolted, every window barricaded. If I was to enter, therefore, it must be by strategy. If the woman had obtained admission the previous night there seemed no reason why the door could not be opened to me. But what were the means she had used? I called myself a fool for not following her, and thus learning the means she had used; but that was futile now. Wisdom after a thing has happened is generally foolishness, and so I ransacked my brains in thinking of what she must have done.