The Fortune-Telling House

Ellesmere Guardian, Volume LVI, Issue 40, 21 May 1935, Page 7

The Fortune-Telling House

By AIDBN de BRUNE (Copyright) Author of "The Dagger and Cord," "The Shadow Crook," "Grays Manor Mystery."

AN INTRIGUING STORY OF MYSTER*Y AND ROMANCE

Some strange influence that Sam knew had ordered his movements from the moment he awoke for the last time in the attic, bade him move to the reception rooms. There he found assembled a gay throng." A big wide space had been cleared down the centre of the rooms and on this dancing floor moved, in stately measure, bowing cavaliers and curtseying ladies. At the far end of the room, in a.corner, a small band was playing, and here again Sam was puzzled. He knew the band was playing; he saw the stately couples move through the dance, but not one single sound could he hear. Over everything lay a deathly silence.

A little stir among the guests gathered close to one of the pair of long windows leading out to the garden court caught Sam's attention. A middle-aged handsomely-dressed man was speaking. He paused and offered his arm to a lady who stood beside him, with an elaborate bow. The lady accepted the arm after a low and profound curtsey. The couple passed through the window into the garden and behind them walked the other couples in the room. From the hall and the lawns before the house other couples came, until the garden court was well crowded.

Some instinct told Sam that the lady and gentleman who led the procession were Rufus Darrington, the builder of the house, and his wife. He watched them pass along the well-tended garden paths, through beds of glowing flowers, to a patch in the centre of the space that looked crude and new. From the steps on which he was standing, lifting him a little above the heads of the throng, Sam had a good view of the proceedings. He saw Rufus Darrington pause beside a mass of stonework that was evidently a well-mouth. Above the stonework stood a heavy windlass, and on the edge of the well stood a new oaken bucket, banded with brass hoops. Again Rufus Darrington bowed to his lady, then he turned to face the guests who had followed him into the garden.

Sam saw the speeches made. He saw congratulations given and received. He saw the laudation of a new power in the land, the acclamation of a new and powerful family rooting itself into a new soil in a new land. Every word, almost every thought, passed to his brain through his eyes—and his ears received not a sound, except for a strange murmur which seemed designed more to hold his attention than to convey any meaning.

Rufus Darrington turned again to the well—for Sam now realised that he was watching the opening of the well designed to give water to the garden court. Darrington pulled off his gaily-coloured, heavily-laced coat and a footman stepped forward and received the garment reverently across his arm. He turned and picked up the oaken bucket, lowering it into the well. Presently the rope on the windlass slackened its unwinding, shivering from the load far down in the earth. Darrington pulled the rope sideways, with an expert jerk, and it stiffened; then he caught the windlass handle and commenced to wind in the rope. Minutes passed, while Darrington strove at the windlass and the guests looked on with mild excitement, and then the bucket hove in sight. Darrington eased the rope, caught the handle of the bucket a.nd rested it on the edge of the well.

Now, through the group standing about the well, came an old man in what Sam knew to be the Darrington livery. On a silver salver he carried before him a huge silver lovingcup. Bowing low before Darrington, he held out the salver while the lord of the manor raised the bucket and slowly poured the water into the cup: Taking the loving-cup in both hands, Darrington slowly sipped the water, then held it out toward his lady.

Almost as Mrs Darringten's lips touched the edge of the cup it slipped from Darrington's hands to the ground, its contents splashing over Darrington's fine clothes and his lady's flowing dress. A look of reproachful amazement came on Darrington's face, followed by a sudden infusion of blood to his face and a bellow of angry words from his lips. Lifting his foot, Darrington set it down hard on the loving-cup and ground the handsomely chased silver pot to a shapeless mass. He turned to the house and roared some command at the top of his voice, and servitors hurried out, their faces drawn with alarm, carrying trays filled with glasses of wine. Rufus Darrington snatched at two of the glasses, handed one to his wife, and

raised the other to his lips, draining the contents at a gulp. ,

Quietly, quaintly, the scene then changed. The gaily-dressed throng of guests faded from the garden; the sun, ineonsequently, moved back in the sky to early morning. From over the well the massive windlass, with its rope and bucket, faded from sight. Even the flowers, the paths and the surrounding walls took on a more sombfe tint.

The windows of the reception rooms were open, and as Sam gazed there Rufus Darrington and his lady descended the few steps into the garden. They came directly to the well, and stood there waiting.

Through the gate in the box-hedge came a little procession. It was headed by a couple of soldiers, their muskets to their shoulders. Behind them followed a group of convicts pulling on ropes attached to a low, flat cart. On the cart rested a massive bundle shrouded by a wide tarpaulin, then followed warders, convicts, and finally a guard of soldiers.

The procession came directly to the well-side, and stopped. Two men, convicts, carrying a large square board, came forward and laid it on the ground, other convicts came forward, bearing .sacks. They poured' the contents on the board and proceeded to mix mortar. When it was ready they spread the mortar thickly on top of the stone wall surrounding the well. Then, with enormous exertions, the convicts lifted the shrouded mass they had brought into the garden on the truck and set it on the mortar, sealing the well. Clearing away the tokens of their work, the convicts moved back down the garden, leaving only Rufus Darrington, his wife, and the officer in command of the guard, by the old well.

Rufus Darrington turned to his lady and bowed profoundly. Sam could see that he was speaking, and that he was speaking of the well and the foul water that had come from it. He made a request, motioning to the covered mass closing the well.

Mrs Darrington stepped forward, caught at one of the loose ropes, and pulled strongly. Slowly the tarpaulin slipped from the mass it concealed, and Sam saw again the group of statuary that he first remembered in the old i garden.

Now the scene changed again. The sky darkened and it became night Cycles of years appeared to pass over the heavens. Neglect and disorder appeared in the gardens. The flowers and tended bashes disappeared and where once was ordered loveliness now was only wandering bush and neglect. Rufus Darrington, the soldiers and the convicts had disappeared into the gloom. Above the gardens, and faintly illuminating them, hung the third quarter of the moon.

Some instinct drew Sam's watching eyes to the box-hedge guarding the garden on its easterly side. The hedge had grown greatly, aad ragged. The gate had disappeared amid the long tendrills of the box. The garden seemed enclosed.

A section of the overgrown hedge moved and swayed. An* opening appeared, and through it came an old man, dressed in ragged, travelstained garments. As the old man lifted his head and glanced at the boarded windows of the old house, Sam recognised him. It was the Jay Bird. Satisfied that he was not being overlooked, the Jay Bird came up the weed-choked paths, directly to the group of statuary. He knelt down and commenced to examine the base of the well carefully.

Very cautiously and quietly another man, better dressed and with his hat pulled low over his brows, came into the garden through the box-hedge gate. For a few seconds he paused, watching the old man at the well, then crept stealthily forward until he stood over and behind him.. Suddenly he spoke.

The Jay Bird sprang to his feet in sudden alarm. He faced the second man and, apparently, recognised him. For a moment they talked together in low, insisterit tones; then anger came to them. For minutes they wrangled furiously, then, overcome with anger, the Jay Bird sprang at his tracker's throat. They struggled furiously beside the old well. Suddenly the Jay Bird uttered a low cry—the one sound that pierced the strange silence that enveloped Sam throughout the three strange scenes —and fell heavily to the ground. The second man bent over the Jay Bird for an instant, then sprang to his feet, glanced at the old house, as if in -alarm, then ran to the box-hedge gate and disappeared.

The strangest job in Hollywood is probably that of the "agers." These are girls who,, when a production de-' mands that the players should wear old clothes, can make a new dress look worn, torn and faded in 20 minutes. Their "art" includes rubbing a dress on a rough plaster wall or dipping it in coffee, or throwing it oh the floor for passing feet to trample on it.

There are now 3500 cables, with a total length of 300,000 miles, Unking every corner of the world. It requires about 50 vessels to keep them in order.

Returning from, five years in the French Foreign Legion, a Swiss was sent to prison for a month for having failed to do his compulsory military service. ■

The world's biggest clock, with a dial surface about six inches the size of "Big Ben," is being built in Montreal. The clock will have three faces, the diameter of each being 60ft., mechanism weighing about six tons, minute marks over 3ft. apart, and minute hands 30ft. long and weighing 25001b. In the course of a year the minute hand will travel 312 miles round the face of the clock.