The Grey Man

by S. R. Crockett

I tied our horses to the iron ring of a louping-on stone which stood at the angle of the wall by the gate, thinking as I did so that if only these foot-worn steps could speak, they could tell a tale worth hearkening to of strange venturings and bloody quests.

Also I loosened my sword, and I think I saw the Dominie lay his hand to his hip, ere Nell and I set forward together. We went up the steps of the outside stair, and as we did so we came within hearing of a little continuous murmur of hoarse sound. The doors were all open, and I wot well that we walked softly and with our hearts in our mouths, for the silence and the strangeness of the deadly house of Auchendrayne daunted me more than the clash of swords or the crack of pistols. But I had Nell Kennedy by me, and I would have gone to destruction's pit-mouth for her sake—because, saving my father and mother, she was the only friend I had.

Suddenly, in our advance, we came to the door of a great hall, where, at the upper end, was a table in the midst. The windows were narrow and high, throwing down but a dim light upon the rush-strewn floor. There were many servants and others sitting in the hall, and at the further end stood one who read from a book. As soon as our eyes became accustomed to the cool duskiness after the white equal glare without, I perceived that the reader was none other than John Mure himself. About him there sat all his servants and retainers, both men and women.

It was the crown of my astonishment to hear that the book from which he read was the Bible, and also that as he went on he made comments like a minister expounding his morning chapter, speaking very seasonably and fitly, and eke with excellent judgment and sense. Or so at least it seemed to me, for I am not enough of a clerk to be a judge of expositions, though my father has the two great leather-bound volumes of Clerk Erasmus his Paraphrases, on the shelf over the mantel. But though he is fond of these himself, he never rubbed any of his liking into me.

But we were hearkening to the reading of John Mure in his own hall of Auchendrayne.

'"Fill ye up, then, the measures of your fathers,"' somewhat in this fashion he read from his place. '"Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how shall ye escape the damnation of hell? Wherefore behold I send unto you prophets and wise men and scribes; and some of them ye shall kill and crucify, and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city—that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias, son of Barachias, whom ye slew between the temple and the altar. Verily I say unto you, all these things shall come upon this generation."'

Having read this word, which, knowing what I knew, I had thought would have made him sink through the earth with the fear of condemnation, John Mure commented upon it, showing how it applied to such as refused the right gospel way and walked in devious courses, careless of God and man. Then he went on with his reading in the same clear and solemn voice, though he must perforce have seen us stand in the hall door.

So soon as the reading was over, the great company of the retainers decently took their departure, walking out soberly and without hurry. Then came John Mure down from the dais with the Bible yet in his hand, and welcomed us with a condescension that was quaint and uncanny.

'Ye have gotten us at our devotions, Mistress Helen, and you Master Launcelot, and Dominie Mure—my good cousin. You could not have found us better employed.'

'Do ye believe what ye read?' asked the Dominie, quickly.