The Secret Chamber at Chad | Page 2

would take very little to stir up the old jealous strife and hostility. Still,
for the present an armed truce was the order of the day, and Sir Oliver,
knowing his own loyalty, the cleanness of his hands, and the
uprightness of his dealings, was not much afraid that his enemy would
ever succeed in ousting him from his lands, or in gaining possession of
the fair park and house of Chad for himself.
Sir Oliver was personally liked by the king, which was another point in
his favour. Without being a brilliant ruler like his successors, the
seventh Henry had the faculty of choosing men of parts to place about
him, and he had recognized in Sir Oliver Chadgrove certain qualities
which he approved, and of which he wished to avail himself from time
to time. So the knight was frequently summoned to attend the king, and
occasionally his wife went with him and appeared at court. On this
particular bright June night, both the master and the mistress were
absent, being at Windsor with the king's court; and the three boys--the
children with whom Providence had blessed them--were the only
members of the family sleeping beneath the roof of the great house.
The bedchamber of the three boys was a large, bare room looking out
across the wooded park and ridge of hills, through which the little river

of Chad meandered leisurely. The boys would have preferred the
courtyard for their lookout; but a lover of nature could not but be struck
by the exceeding beauty of the view from this row of latticed casements.
And indeed the green expanse of home-like country had its charm even
for high-spirited boys; and Edred, the second child of the house, often
sat for hours together on the wide window ledge, gazing his fill at the
shifting lights and shadows, and dreaming dreams of his own about
what he saw.
The long room contained three small narrow beds, and very little
furniture besides, In each of these beds a boy lay sleeping. The
moonlight streaming in through the uncurtained windows illuminated
the whole room, and showed the curly heads, two dark and one fair,
lying on the hard pillows, and shone so straight into the face of the
eldest boy, that he stirred a little in his sleep, and half turned round.
He was a handsome lad of some eight or nine summers, with regular,
strongly-marked features, and dark hair and eyes. The brown hand and
arm which lay exposed to view showed a muscular development that
betokened great strength to come when the boy should be grown to
manhood, and the face exhibited a like promise of strength of will and
character.
Bertram Chadgrove, half aroused by the strong light of the moon in his
face, opened his dark eyes sleepily for a few minutes, and then turned
over towards the wall, and prepared to slumber again. But before he
had sunk to sleep he became further aroused by a very peculiar sound
in the wall (as it seemed), close to which his bed was stationed; and
instead of drowsing off again, he woke up with all his faculties on the
alert, much as a watchdog does, and sitting up in bed he listened with
all his ears.
Yes; there could be no mistaking it! There was certainly a sound--a
muffled, curious sound--within the very wall itself. He pressed his ear
against the panel, and his eyes shone brightly in the moonlight.
"It is some living thing," he whispered to himself. "Methinks it is surely
some human thing. Rats can make strange sounds, I know, but not such
sounds as these. A human being, and within the thickness of the wall!
How can such a thing be? I never heard the like before. It comes
nearer--I hear the groping of hands close beside mine ear. Heaven send
it be not a spirit from the other world! I fear no mortal arm, of flesh and

blood, but I desire not to see a visitor from the land of shadows."
For a moment the boy's flesh crept on his bones, and the hair of his
head seemed to rise up from his scalp. The groping of those phantom
hands against the wall just beside him was enough to fill the stoutest
heart with terror, in an age when superstition was always rife. He strove
to call to his brothers; but his voice was no more than a whisper, and
his throat felt dry and parched. Failing in making himself heard by his
companions, he cowered down and drew the clothes right over his head,
shivering with fear; and it was several minutes before his native
courage came to his aid, and he felt ashamed of this paroxysm of terror.
"Fie upon me for a