The House of Egremont

by Molly Elliot Seawell

“And now,” said Bess to Hodge, the boy having departed, “what I wish you to do is this,—to tie Sir Hugo hand and foot, and to leave him lying all night on the ground by Mr. Richard’s grave; not too close, for ’twould dishonor the poor dead boy. Are you afraid to do this?”

“Not I,” stoutly said Hodge, “and besides, I and the man that will do it can cover our faces so we’ll not be known. There’s scarce a man in this village who has not a grudge to pay back against Sir Hugo; he is a cruel landlord. And there are two men here, father and son, who have tilled the fields of Egremont since they were lads. There was a daughter, little more than a child,—you know such stories, mistress?”

“Alas, I have heard them often.”

“Tis the old story. But these two men take it not patiently, and though they be quiet and say nothing, ’twould not surprise me in the least if Sir Hugo were found some day on the roadside, with his brains beaten out by a stone, or a brick, or some such thing as every man finds to his hand when he wishes to be avenged on his enemy.”

“Then do you bring those two men there; but first let us lay Mr. Richard to rest, and cover him with the soil of Egremont. Mr. Roger never sleeps but with a little bag of Egremont earth under his head. And when all is over, then shall that wretched man Sir Hugo be punished as far as God will let us punish him.”

A little before ten o’clock a small procession made its way slowly toward the Dark Pool, that place where Dicky as a little boy had spent so many sunny hours, sitting under the willows with his hook and line, not much caring whether he caught any of the silvery fish or not, but happy to be in so sweet a spot,—especially if Roger were sitting with him. The grave was ready, and after a short prayer by Hodge, who was a religious man, Dicky Egremont was laid to rest. The prayer of a poor and ignorant man was the only consecration of Dicky’s grave except the memory of a good life.

When all was over, every one departed, except Bess Lukens. She appeared to be alone, but behind the willows, in the black shadows, lurked the three humble men who meant to pay off their debt against Hugo Stein, as well as they could in their own poor way.

The crescent moon arose, and shone upon the new-made mound, beside which Bess Lukens knelt, and made a prayer, weeping as she prayed. It came to her, though, that Dicky’s sleep was sweet. Sharp as had been the agony through which he passed, it had been short,—and he could now no more suffer. This thought took tranquil possession of her soul, and soothed her. And then her fixed resolution to take such vengeance as she could on Hugo Stein seemed to her simple mind an act of justice such as inspired Judith when she slew the enemy of her people, and Jael when her woman’s arm drove home the blow from which the sleeping Shulamite never wakened. So far from feeling shame, Bess Lukens felt that solemn serenity which follows upon the determination to do well and instantly one’s stern and hateful duty. Remember, she was but a gaoler’s niece, was this Bess Lukens,—and she reasoned and acted as a woman of the people,—which she was.

Bess rose to her feet, and began to walk up and down in the shadows made by the willows. It was a warm July night, and so quiet that the only sound heard was the voice of the Dark Pool, as it murmured faintly under the moon and stars. There was a path, leading through a thicket by which Hugo must come, and Bess, in her walk, narrowly watched this path. Presently she heard a step not far away from her. It gave her a thrill, it was so like Roger Egremont’s, for in some minor things the half-brothers were alike. The step came nearer, quite close to her, and stopped. Hugo Stein saw, in the high lights and deep shadows of a moonlight night, the graceful figure of a woman walking up and down. Her black hood was drawn over her face, so he could not distinguish her features, but he knew instinctively that she was young and handsome.

As he stopped, Bess advanced, and throwing back her hood looked so directly into his face, with her eyes sparkling brightly, that Sir Hugo was a little disconcerted. He stepped back involuntarily, and Bess came a step nearer to him.