Put Yourself in His Place | Page 5

or beast, viz.,
the west side of Cairnhope Peak. He came home pale and disturbed,

and sat by the fireside in dead silence. "What ails thee, my man?" said
Janet, his wife; "and there's the very dog keeps a whimpering."
"What ails us, wife? Pincher and me? We have seen summat."
"What was it?" inquired the woman, suddenly lowering her voice.
"Cairnhope old church all o' fire inside."
"Bless us and save us!" said Janet, in a whisper.
"And the fire it did come and go as if hell was a blowing at it. One
while the windows was a dull red like, and the next they did flare so, I
thought it would all burst out in a blaze. And so 'twould, but, bless your
heart, their heads ha'n't ached this hundred year and more, as lighted
that there devilish fire."
He paused a moment, then said, with sudden gravity and resignation
and even a sort of half business-like air, "Wife, ye may make my
shroud, and sew it and all; but I wouldn't buy the stuff of Bess
Crummles; she is an ill-tongued woman, and came near making
mischief between you and me last Lammermas as ever was."
"Shroud!" cried Mrs. Eaves, getting seriously alarmed. "Why, Abel,
what is Cairnhope old church to you? You were born in an other
parish."
Abel slapped his thigh. "Ay, lass, and another county, if ye go to that."
And his countenance brightened suddenly.
"And as for me," continued Janet, "I'm Cairnhope; but my mother came
from Morpeth, a widdy: and she lies within a hundred yards of where I
sit a talking to thee. There's none of my kin laid in old Cairnhope
churchyard. Warning's not for thee, nor me, nor yet for our Jock. Eh,
lad, it will be for Squire Raby. His father lies up there, and so do all his
folk. Put on thy hat this minute, and I'll hood myself, and we'll go up to
Raby Hall, and tell Squire."
Abel objected to that, and intimated that his own fireside was
particularly inviting to a man who had seen diabolical fires that came
and went, and shone through the very stones and mortar of a dead
church.
"Nay, but," said Janet, "they sort o' warnings are not to be slighted
neither. We must put it off on to Squire, or I shall sleep none this
night."
They went up, hand in hand, and often looked askant upon the road.
When they got to the Hall, they asked to see Mr. Raby. After some

demur they were admitted to his presence, and found him alone, so far
as they could judge by the naked eye; but, as they arrived there charged
to the muzzle with superstition, the room presented to their minds some
appearances at variance with this seeming solitude. Several plates were
set as if for guests, and the table groaned, and the huge sideboard
blazed, with old silver. The Squire himself was in full costume, and on
his bosom gleamed two orders bestowed upon his ancestors by James
III. and Charles III. In other respects he was rather innocuous, being
confined to his chair by an attack of gout, and in the act of sipping the
superannuated compound that had given it him--port. Nevertheless, his
light hair, dark eyebrows, and black eyes, awed them, and co-operated
with his brilliant costume and the other signs of company, to make
them wish themselves at the top of Cairnhope Peak. However, they
were in for it, and told their tale, but in tremulous tones and a low
deprecating voice, so that if the room SHOULD happen to be infested
with invisible grandees from the other world, their attention might not
be roused unnecessarily.
Mr. Raby listened with admirable gravity; then fixed his eyes on the
pair, in silence; and then said in a tone so solemn it was almost
sepulchral, "This very day, nearly a century and a half ago, Sir Richard
Raby was beheaded for being true to his rightful king--"
"Eh, dear poor gentleman! so now a walks." It was Janet who edged in
this--
"And," continued the gentleman, loftily ignoring the comment, "they
say that on this night such of the Rabys as died Catholics hold high
mass in the church, and the ladies walk three times round the
churchyard; twice with their veils down, once with bare faces, and great
eyes that glitter like stars."
"I wouldn't like to see the jades," quavered Abel: "their ladyships I
mean, axing their pardon."
"Nor I!" said Janet, with a great shudder.
"It would not be good for you," suggested the Squire; "for the first
glance from those dead and glittering eyes strikes any person of the
lower orders dumb, the second, blind; the third, dead. So I'm
INFORMED. Therefore--LET