THE FIEND'S FIELD. 85
a maniac, and sat with staring eyes fixed on the fire, without uttering a syllable, the poor alarmed girl could only ask him, in broken accents, what he had done, what he had seen. At length she placed in his damp, cold hand, a glass of mulled ale; and, a little refreshed, he replied to her remonstrances, “Go to bed, child to bed, I say; I but remember your father in your prayers, for he may never pray again. “And he left his terrified and hapless daughter to muse upon and to mourn the dreadful meaning of his words.
During the ensuing year it was singular that Howison had not the slightest occasion to complain of a bad season, scanty damaged crops, or diseased cattle; he and Ryecroft lived upon terms of extreme intimacy, while Walter Burton and Kate still continued, though more covertly than heretofore, their affectionate intercourse; but some rumours getting afloat that Howison having entered into a compact with the evil power, had consecrated to him that acre of his estate in which stood the old haunted chapel of St. Hubert, the inhabitants of Wrekinswold, though not, as we hinted at the commencement of our tale, the most virtuous peasantry in existence, looked coldly and askance upon him, taking credit to themselves for superior sanctity, because they had not fallen so deeply into the gulf of perdition.
The marriage of Ryecroft and Kate was fixed for the first of November, in the year succeeding that in which the sacrifice was consummated; consequently the anniversary of this event, which was to be observed with similar ceremonies, fell upon the vigil of All Hallows and of her bridal. A larger party than that which had assembled at the Grange the year preceding, were now met for the double purpose of celebrating the rites of “spritely “ Hallowe'en, and the approaching nuptials of one so universally beloved. This party when Kate beheld her father depart, as he had done exactly a twelvemonth before, on his mysterious nocturnal errand she strove to detain until his return, conjecturing that his second ramble would not be longer than the first. One o'clock, however, struck, and the rustic company rose to depart; the rival lovers, only, perceiving her anxiety for her father, would not quit her. Ryecroft pressed her much to retire to rest, urging, that as she must rise early in order to prepare for a ceremony which was to take place at eight o'clock, she needed repose. His entreaties were replied to in a tone of bitterness which with Kate was very unusual; and, after an apology from Ryecroft, for having unintentionally offended, the trio maintained a gloomy silence, anxiously listening for the steps of Howison. But nothing stirred to interrupt the awful stillness ( which began to press upon the hearts of the alarmed party like a heavy weight ) save the dropping embers and the unwearying click of the clock.
The hour of two at length struck, louder, each fancied, than it had ever done before; and Kate, bursting into tears, exclaimed, “One hour longer will I await my father, and, if he return not then, he shall be sought, for harm hath surely happened unto him! “She described his agitation upon his return upon the Hallowe'en past from his nocturnal expedition, which, she now declared her conviction, was undertaken for unhallowed purposes, adding“And now that we are on the subject, do tell me, Master Ryecroft, what my poor father meant by purchasing a piece of land which still lies fallow, and which, it seems, he never intends to cultivate?“
Tony refused to afford her the slightest information, and his companions witnessed with surprise the ashy paleness of his countenance, and a perplexity, perturbation, and terror, which all his efforts at ease and self possession were inefficient to conceal. He had frequent recourse to some brandy, which, with the remains of the AllHallowmass supper, still stood on the table, and at last, overcome by the frequency of the application, he fell into a profound slumber.
“Were it not,“ said Kate, “for my uneasiness respecting my father, I could laugh at the unlover like figure of that reprobate, and at the trick we have played him. Ah, Walter! how strangely surprised will he be to morrow when I declare in church Hark! did you not hear a noise? "
Nothing, in fact, was stirring, yet Kate unfastened the door of the house nearest the road by which she knew her father must return, and looked out. It was a clear, frosty moonlight night, but no Howison appeared; and as the hour passed without his arrival, Burton began, like poor Kate, to forebode the worst; so insisting that she should retire, and suffering Ryecroft to remain where he was and sleep off the effects of the brandy, he set forth alone in quest of the unhappy Howison. Kate threw herself upon the bed in her clothes, and, having for another hour prayed as fervently as she wept bitterly, sunk exhausted into a kind of doze that might rather be termed stupefaction than repose. From this state she was aroused by a violent rapping at her chamber door: it was now full daylight, though the morning was cold and cloudy.
“Kate, my dear girl, for heaven's sake, come here! “exclaimed Walter, as he still knocked and lifted in vain the latch of the bolted door.
This was followed by a mingling of voices, a low deep hum as of consternation and sorrow. With trembling hand, Kate unfastened the door, and Walter, drawing her gently from the chamber, endeavoured in a tender and soothing tone to prepare her mind for the fatal tidings.
“Gracious God! “cried the afflicted girl, “my father my poor father is then no more! Speak, is it not so? And Ryecroft is his murderer! "
“ Hush, dear Kate, hush! we may not, without cause, thus put any man's life in jeopardy. Ryecroft, suspicious as is his flight from Wrekinswold, was, you know, sitting with us when this lamentable accident befel your poor father; whose body I found at some distance from hence, bearing, as you will perceive, when you have sufficient firmness to gaze upon it, every indica-
