A Master of Mysteries | Page 7

go to bed at once," I said, "but I should like some candles. Can
you supply me?"
The man turned and looked at his wife, who at that moment entered the
kitchen. She went to the dresser, opened a wooden box, and taking out
three or four tallow candles, put them into my hand.
I rose, simulating a yawn.
"Good-night, sir," said the old man; "good-night; I wish you well."
A moment later I had entered my bedroom, and having shut the door,
proceeded to give it a careful examination. As far as I could make out,
there was no entrance to the room except by the door, which was
shaped to fit the circular walls. I noticed, however, that there was an
unaccountable draught, and this I at last discovered came from below
the oak wainscoting of the wall. I could not in any way account for the
draught, but it existed to an unpleasant extent. The bed, I further saw,
was somewhat peculiar; it had no castors on the four legs, which were
let down about half an inch into sockets provided for them in the
wooden floor. This discovery excited my suspicions still further. It was
evident that the bed was intended to remain in a particular position. I
saw that it directly faced the little window sunk deep into the thick wall,
so that any one in bed would look directly at the window. I examined
my watch, found that it was past eleven, and placing both the candles
on a tiny table near the bed, I lay down without undressing. I was on
the alert to catch the slightest noise, but the hours dragged on and
nothing occurred. In the house all was silence, and outside the
splashing and churning of the water falling over the wheel came
distinctly to my ears.
I lay awake all night, but as morning dawned fell into an uneasy sleep. I
awoke to see the broad daylight streaming in at the small window.
Making a hasty toilet, I went out for a walk, and presently came in to

breakfast. It had been laid for me in the big kitchen, and the old man
was seated by the hearth.
"Well," said the woman, "I hope you slept comfortable, sir."
I answered in the affirmative, and now perceived that old Bindloss and
his wife were in the humour to be agreeable. They said that if I was
satisfied with the room I might spend another night at the inn. I told
them that I had a great many photographs to take, and would be much
obliged for the permission. As I spoke I looked round for the girl, Liz.
She was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is your grand-daughter?" I asked of the old woman.
"She has gone away for the day," was the reply. "It's too much for Liz
to see strangers. She gets excited, and then the fits come on."
"What sort of fits?"
"I can't tell what they are called, but they're bad, and weaken her, poor
thing! Liz ought never to be excited." Here Bindloss gave his wife a
warning glance; she lowered her eyes, and going across to the range,
began to stir the contents of something in a saucepan.
That afternoon I borrowed some lines from Bindloss, and, taking an old
boat which was moored to the bank of the mill-pond, set off under the
pretence of fishing for pike. The weather was perfect for the time of
year.
Waiting my opportunity, I brought the boat up to land on the bank that
dammed up the stream, and getting out walked along it in the direction
of the mill-wheel, over which the water was now rushing.
As I observed it from this side of the bank, I saw that the tower in
which my room was placed must at one time have been part of the mill
itself, and I further noticed that the masonry was comparatively new,
showing that alterations must have taken place when the house was
abandoned as a mill and was turned into an inn. I clambered down the

side of the wheel, holding on to the beams, which were green and
slippery, and peered through the paddles.
As I was making my examination, a voice suddenly startled me.
"What are you doing down there?"
I looked up; old Bindloss was standing on the bank looking down at me.
He was alone, and his face was contorted with a queer mixture of fear
and passion. I hastily hoisted myself up, and stood beside him.
"What are you poking about down there for?" he said, pushing his ugly
old face into mine as he spoke. "You fool! if you had fallen you would
have been drowned. No one could swim a stroke in that