"Ghosts are just as real as you or me, sair," Colter was sayi
n
g ear
n
estly. "I do
n
't mi
n
d the idea of them -- but these
n
oises are fearsome spooky, so they are, a
n
d I hardly eve
n
like to go
n
ear the churchyard -- a
n
d I have to dig a grave for the little Roydma
n
babe tomorrow, so I do."
Geoffrey said a
n
i
n
ward prayer for patie
n
ce. The urge to bellow at this poor sexto
n
was almost i
n
surmou
n
table. He had bee
n
dozi
n
g peacefully e
n
ough i
n
fro
n
t of his ow
n
fire with a book i
n
his lap whe
n
Colter came, waki
n
g him up . . . a
n
d he was comi
n
g more a
n
d more awake all the time, a
n
d at every seco
n
d the dull sorrow settled more deeply over him, the aware
n
ess that his darli
n
g was go
n
e. She was three days i
n
her grave, soo
n
to be a week. . . a mo
n
th . . . a year . . . te
n
years. The sorrow, he thought, was like a rock o
n
the shoreli
n
e of the ocea
n
. Whe
n
o
n
e was sleepi
n
g it was as if the tide was i
n
, a
n
d there was some relief. Sleep was like a tide which covered the rock of grief. Whe
n
o
n
e woke, however, the tide bega
n
to go out a
n
d soo
n
the rock was visible agai
n
, a bar
n
acle-e
n
crusted thi
n
g of i
n
arguable reality, a thi
n
g which would be there forever, or u
n
til God chose to wash it away.
A
n
d this fool dared to come here a
n
d prate of ghosts!
But the ma
n
's face looked so wretched that Geoffrey was able to co
n
trol
himself.
"Miss Misery -- Her Ladyship -- was much 1oved, " Geoffrey said quietly.
"Aye, sair, so she was," Colter agreed ferve
n
tly. He switched custody of his cloth cap to his left ha
n
d solely, a
n
d with his right produced a gia
n
t red ha
n
dkerchief from his pocket. He ho
n
ked mightily i
n
to it, his eyes wateri
n
g.
"All of us sorrow at her passi
n
g." Geoffrey's ha
n
ds we
n
t to his shirt a
n
d rubbed the heavy musli
n
wrappi
n
gs be
n
eath it restlessly.
"Aye, so we do, sair, so we do." Colter's words were muffled i
n
the ha
n
dkerchief, but Geoffrey could see his eyes; the ma
n
was really, ho
n
estly weepi
n
g. The last of his ow
n
selfish a
n
ger dissolved i
n
pity. "She were a good lady, sair! Aye, she were a great lady, a
n
d it is a turrible thi
n
g the way His Lordship's took o
n
about it -- "
"Aye, she was fi
n
e," Geoffrey said ge
n
tly, a
n
d fou
n
d to his dismay that his ow
n
tears were
n
ow close, like a cloudburst which threate
n
s o
n
a late summer's after
n
oo
n
. "A
n
d sometimes, Colter, whe
n
someo
n
e especially fi
n
e passes away -- someo
n
e especially dear to us all -- we fi
n
d it hard to let that someo
n
e go. So we may imagi
n
e that they have
n
ot go
n
e. Do you follow me?"
"Aye, sair!" Colter said eagerly. "But these sou
n
ds . . . sair, if ye heard
them!"
Patie
n
tly, Geoffrey said: "What sort of sou
n
ds do you mea
n
?"
He thought Colter would the
n
speak of sou
n
ds which might, be
n
o more tha
n
the wi
n
d i
n
the trees, sou
n
ds amplified by his ow
n
imagi
n
atio
n
, of course -- or perhaps a badger bumbli
n
g its way dow
n
to Little Du
n
thorpe Stream, which lay behi
n
d the churchyard. A
n
d so he was hardly prepared whe
n
Colter whispered i
n
a
n
affrighted voice: "Scratchi
n
' sou
n
ds , sair! It sou
n
ds as if she were still alive dow
n
there a
n
d tryi
n
' to work her way back up to the la
n
d o' the livi
n
', so it
does!"
CHAPTER 2
Fiftee
n
mi
n
utes later, alo
n
e agai
n
, Geoffrey approached the di
nn
i
n
g-room sideboard. He was reeli
n
g from side to side like a mai
n n
egotiati
n
g the foredeck of a ship i
n
a gale. He felt like a ma
n
i
n
a gale. He might have believed that the fever Dr. Shi
n
ebo
n
e had almost gleefully predicted had come o
n
him at last,
a
n
d with a ve
n
gea
n
ce, but it was
n
't fever which had simulta
n
eously brought wild red roses to his cheeks a
n
d tugged his forehead to the color of ca
n
dlewax,
n
ot fever which made his ha
n
ds shake so badly that he almost dropped the deca
n
ter of bra
n
dy as he brought it out of the sideboard.
If there was a cha
n
ce -- the slightest cha
n
ce -- that the mo
n
strous idea Colter had pla
n
ted i
n
his mi
n
d was true, the
n
he had
n
o busi
n
ess pausi
n
g here at all. But he felt that without a dri
n
k he might fall swoo
n
i
n
g to the floor.
Geoffrey Alliburto
n
did somethi
n
g the
n
he had
n
ever do
n
e before i
n
his whole life; somethi
n
g he clever did agai
n
. He lifted the deca
n
ter directly to his mouth, a
n
d dra
n
k from the
n
eck.
The
n
he stepped back, a
n
d whispered: "We shall see about this. We shall see about this, by heave
n
. A
n
d if I go o
n
this i
n
sa
n
e erra
n
d o
n
ly to discover
n
othi
n
g at the e
n
d of it but a
n
old gravedigger's imagi
n
atio
n
after all, I will have goodma
n
Colter's earlobes o
n
my watch chai
n
,
n
o matter how much he loved
Misery."
CHAPTER 3
He took the po
n
y-trap, drivi
n
g u
n
der a
n
eerie,
n
ot-quite-dark sky where a three-quarters moo
n
ducked restlessly i
n
a
n
d out betwee
n
raci
n
g reefs of cloud. He had paused to throw o
n
the first thi
n
g i
n
the dow
n
stairs hall closet which came to ha
n
d -- this tur
n
ed out to be a dark-maroo
n
smoki
n
g jacket. The tails blew out behi
n
d him as he whipped Mary o
n
. The elderly mare did
n
ot like the speed upo
n
which he was i
n
sisti
n
g; Geoffrey did
n
ot like the deepe
n
i
n
g pai
n
i
n
his shoulder a
n
d side . . . but the pai
n
of
n
either could be helped.
Scratchi
n
' sou
n
ds, sair! It sou
n
ds as if she were still alive dow
n
there a
n
d tryi
n
' to work her way back up to the la
n
d of the livi
n
'!