David Lindsay - The Haunted Woman

"I haven't set foot inside your house, I tell you. Have you lost your senses?"

"No; but I have been up that staircase to-day, and I have not yet come down again."

"Oh, my God!" said Isbel quietly.

"I was wretched, and could not keep away from the house. It contained all my memories. The stairs were there; I climbed them. Passing straight into that other room, I got through the window, and succeeded in reaching the ground without accident, though it was not easy…"

She stared at him with frightened eyes. "And where are you now?"

"I am standing beside you in the open country, in full sunshine-and it is spring, not autumn."

"You cannot believe it. You must see for yourself that it isn't so. Feel me-I'm wet with the fine rain."

But he came no nearer.

"The man is asleep, and the sight of his instrument put an idea into my head. I could not see you, but I felt you were somewhere in the neighbourhood-so I played to you…"

"What man?"

"The man we saw from the window yesterday."

There was an embarrassed silence.

"But this is awful!" said Isbel…"You must be attempting to mystify me, Mr. Judge. If not…"

"No, I am speaking the truth, Isbel; and I am quite rational."

The blood came to her face. "You have not yet acquired the right to call me by that name, Mr, Judge."

"You don't understand-but matters can be set right."

"Where are you now going?"

He had started to move off, but stopped at her question.

"I shall play again."

"But this is sheer insanity."

"You did not think so last evening, when we heard that music in the hall."

She said nothing.

"Let me go," proceeded Judge quietly. "I ask you only to reserve your judgement for five minutes, and in the meantime to wait here. Should I fail to open your eyes by then, I give you full permission to think of me what you will. Please wait."

Isbel stared after him with a puzzled frown, as he made his way up and across the long, wet grass. He had hardly taken ten steps before his form merged into the grey of the mist and was swallowed up. She heard nothing but the dripping of the sodden trees.

While waiting, with a fast-beating heart, for the outcome of this strange business, she experienced the same sensations in her ears as before. It was an inaudible throbbing, too marked to be disregarded, but so unassociated that she was unable even to decide if its cause were internal or external. After continuing for a minute or two, it left off as suddenly as it had started. Nearly at the same time she was surprised to see the day rapidly brightening. The sky grew lighter, and the mists thinner; she could look further away each moment. In less than five minutes after Judge's departure the sun itself had come through. The blue sky appeared, the ground vapours dispersed, and the whole country became visible. The transition ws so abrupt that she scarcely knew how to take it; almost in a flash, to the radiance and heat of an early summer day. A wind sprang up, and long before she had accommodated herself to the change there was not a wisp of cloud in the sky. She loosened her fur wrap.

She was standing in the same attitude-looking up towards the house. Suddenly a shock passed through her system. She had just realised the house was gone. It had vanished, absolutely and entirely. And not only the house, but its grounds as well, including the very lawn on which her foot had been resting…She discovered herself to be on the side of a steep, grassy hill, through the turf of which the naked chalk showed. She was some way down from the top, but there was not the least room for doubt that there was no building there; its bare ridge joined the sky from end to end…Here was a miracle indeed!…

Upon turning swiftly to see what was behind her, she was bewildered to meet the identical panorama which she and Judge had viewed yesterday from that window. The hillside she stood on was where the strangely-dressed man had been; she recognised at once by its general configuration and relation to the landscape. The sharp, smooth slope descended to the same little valley, along which flowed the same little brook; beyond it was that other hill, with the unbroken forest stretching to the horizon…after staring for a few moments, she clapped her hand to her eyes, and cried out. She could not understand it, and she feared she was on the point of losing her reason. But when she looked again she saw the same things, down to the smallest detail, and all was so brightly-coloured, so solid, so real in appearance, that she could not hesitate any longer to accept the scene as being actually existent…And it was so beautiful! The forest trees were clothed in fresh green leaves, the smaller trees in the valley underneath were smothered with white blossom, song-birds trilled and twittered, a wood pigeon was cooing softly, two distant cuckoos seemed to be answering each other, high overhead a lark fluttered and sang. The caressing wind brought to her the rich, moist fragrance of the whole countryside…Yes, yes-it was spring!…

She remembered everything. Every particular of her three visits to those other rooms at Runhill returned to her with startling distinctness, so that she was amazed how she could ever have forgotten. Moreover, her whole relation to Henry, both in private and in public, was suddenly made clear. She saw how worldly prudence on his side, angry pride on hers, had nearly succeeded in wrecking their happiness, and how this state of affairs had arisen, not from any fault of character on either part, not from any insufficiency of love, but from pure ignorance of the fact. They had not known that they belonged to each other…

Her heart sang as she saw him approaching her from higher up. He was only a short distance away. Still further back, behind him, she caught a glimpse of the gaily-dressed musician. He was lying on his side, head uphill, back towards her, apparently asleep; hiss fiddle-shaped instrument was beside him. Isbel gave him a silent welcome, but at that moment Henry was the more wonderful vision of the two. She had no real eyes for anything but him.

They hastened to each other with outstretched hands.

"You heard me this time?" laughed Henry, enfolding her and looking down into her eyes.

"My ears throbbed-was that really you?…Oh, Henry, what a terribly narrow escape we've had! How could we have been so absolutely insane? Surely we must have know that that ring was not thrown away for nothing?…"

"Some kind fate is watching over us, evidently. Whether we deserve it by our stupidity is quite another matter…However, you see now I'm not so mad as you thought I was?"

"It's heaven, I think. But is it true?…Where has the house gone to?"

"We're in the house."

Even while they were speaking, the brightness of the day began perceptibly to fade, almost as though a solar eclipse were creeping on. The sun became obscured by haze, the blue of the sky grew paler and paler, thin mists commenced again to crawl about the lower regions. The wind dropped, and a sort of hush came over the scene. The birds sang more fitfully.

"It's getting darker," whispered Isbel, with a slight shiver, uneasily drawing her fur closer to her.

"No, no. Dismiss the possibility. It can't change now." His strong-featured face smiled down at her protectingly.

"Let's hope not…How do you mean-'we're in the house'?"

"I entered it from the grounds, and I haven't passed out again into the grounds, therefore I'm still in it-and you're with me. I don't profess to understand, but it is so, and it can't be otherwise."

The mist sensibly thickened. Isbel could scarcely distinguished the trees on the opposite side of the valley. The sun disappeared, the sky was a whitish grey, while the air felt cold and damp.