Algernon Blackwood

“ The loader eyed him cautiously a moment, weighing perhaps his value as a recipient of private fears, beliefs, fancies and the rest, yet deciding finally that Norman was worthy of his confidences.
“That’s what my father always said,” he agreed.
“Your father? It’s always wise to listen to what a father tells,” the other suggested. “No doubt he’d seen something⁠—worth seeing.”
A silence fell between them. Norman felt he had been, perhaps, too eager to draw the man out; yet the loader was reflecting merely. ”

“ Diana’s temptation, her mother’s incredible disappearance, his own heart-shearing yearnings in the balance to boot, took strange shape as practical possibilities.
The cumulative effect of all he had heard, from chauffeur, loader, and from the girl herself, began, it may be, to operate, since the human mind, especially the imaginative human mind, is ever open to attack along the line of least resistance. ”

“ The “Gay People” as the natives called them. And the sight wrenched at the deepest roots of his own mixed being. To go with them and share their soulless bliss forever⁠ ⁠... or to stay and face the grim battle of Humanity’s terrific⁠—noble, yes⁠—but almost hopeless, evolution?
That he was torn in two seemed an understatement. The pain seared and burned him in his very vitals. Diana, the girl, drew him as with some power of the stars themselves, and his hand still felt the tweed of her cloth beneath his fingers. ”

“ Young Norman was being whirled in one of the newest streamlined expresses towards the north. He leaned back in his first-class Smoker and lit a cigarette. On the rack in front of him was his gun-case with the pair of guns he never willingly allowed out of his sight, his magazine with over a thousand cartridges beside it, and the rest of his luggage, he knew, was safely in the van. He was looking forward to a really good week’s shooting at Greystones, one of the best moors in England. ”

“ To be included as a crack shot among all these famous guns was, naturally, a great event to him. He longed to justify himself.
Yet his heart was heavy and dissatisfied, a strange uneasiness gnawed at him despite all his efforts to think only of the morrow’s thrill. For Diana had not come down to dinner, nor had he set eyes on her the whole evening. His polite enquiry about her was met by his host’s cheery laugh: “Oh, she’s all right, Norman, thank ’ee; she keeps to herself a bit when a shoot’s on. Shooting, you see, ain’t her line exactly, but she may come out with us tomorrow.” ”

“ A third question rose in his mind as well: this talk of haunted country, of bogies, fairies and the rest, fantastic though it was, perhaps, stirred a queer, yet delicious feeling in him⁠—in his heart, doubtless⁠—that his host’s niece, Diana, had a link with it somewhere. The origin of a deep intuition is hardly discoverable. He made no attempt to probe it. This was Diana’s country, she must know all the chauffeur hinted, and more besides. There must be something in the atmosphere that attracted her. She had been instrumental in making her uncle invite him. ”

“ She had been admitting how she disliked London and all its works, loathing especially the Season with its glittering routine of so-called gaiety, adding that she always longed to get back to Marston, Sir Hiram’s place in Essex. “There are the marshes,” she said, with quiet enthusiasm, “and the sea, and I go with my uncle duck-flighting in the twilight, or in the dawn when the sun comes up like a red ball out of the sea, and the mist over the marshes drifts away⁠ ⁠... and things, you know, may happen.⁠ ⁠...” ”

“ I’ve heard of a haunted house before now, but never a haunted countryside. Yet that’s what they believe, I take it. It’s all haunted, sir⁠—everywhere. It’s the devil of a job to get any of them to turn out after dark, as I know well, and even in the daytime they won’t stir far without a crucifix hung round their neck. Even the men won’t.”
The car had put on speed while he spoke and Norman had to ask him to ease up a bit; the man, he felt sure, was prey to a touch of superstitious fear as they raced along the darkening road, yet glad enough to talk, provided he was not laughed at. ”

“ Norman went up to bed with a beating heart, for his plan to slip out of the sleeping house later and explore the moorland with its “haunted Trod,” was not exactly what a host expected of a guest. The absence of Diana, moreover, deliberately planned, added to his deep uneasiness. Her sudden disappearance to visit “an old school friend” was not convincing. Nor had she even left a line of explanation. It came to him that others besides the chauffeur and the loader took these fantastic fairytales seriously. ”

“ So certain, indeed, was he of someone else that he let himself down silently into the deep heather and waited.
He listened intently, breathing very softly. The same instant he knew that he was right. Those sounds were not imagination. Footsteps were at his heels. The swish through the heather of a moving body was unmistakeable. He caught distinct footsteps then. The footsteps came to a pause quite near to where he crouched. At which moment exactly, the clouds raced past the moon, letting down a clear space of silvery light, so that he saw the “follower” brilliantly defined. ”

“ How primitive, after all, these “shooting parties” were! For men of brains and character, the best that England could produce, to spend all this time and money, hunting as the cavemen hunted! The fox, the deer, the bird⁠—earlier men needed these for food, yet thousands of years later the finest males of the twentieth century⁠—sportsmen all⁠—spent millions on superior weapons, which gave the hunted animal no chance, to bring them down. ”

“ Their faces shone with the ecstasy of youth. In some indescribable way they all spread happiness and joy about them, their eyes blazing with a peace and beneficence he had never seen in any human eyes. ”

“ Her whole being, moreover, conveyed the sense that he would understand some emotional yearning in her that her actual words omitted.
He stopped and stared at her.
“That’s to be alive,” she added with a laugh that made her eyes shine. “The wind and the rain blowing in your face and the ducks streaming by. You feel yourself part of nature. Gates open, as it were. It was how we were meant to live. ”

“ Norman, trembling unaccountably, hurried to fetch his gun and join the car, and Diana, obeying the orders of her uncle, was shoved into the Ford with her retriever. She had just time to whisper to him “Keep off the Trod⁠—don’t put a foot on it,” and the two cars whisked off and separated them.
The “shoot” took place, nevertheless, ordinarily, so far as Norman was concerned, for the hunter’s passion was too strong in him to be smothered. If his mind was mystical, his body was primitive. He was by nature a hunter before the Lord. ”

“ These passed, and more and more poured by, some riding, some walking, young and old and children, men with hunting spears and unstrung bows, the youthful figures with harps and lyres, and one and all making friendly gestures of invitation to come and join them, as they flowed past silently. ”

“ A few black-faced sheep strung occasionally across the road, and once they passed a bearded shepherd harrying downhill with his dog. They vanished into the mist like wraiths. It seemed impossible to Norman that the country could be so desolate and uninhabited when he knew that only a few score miles away lay the large manufacturing towns of Lancashire. The car, meanwhile, was steadily climbing up the valley and presently they came to more open country and passed a few scattered farmhouses with an occasional field of oats besides them. ”

“ Feeling sure the man had interesting things to tell and having now won his confidence, he begged him to drive more slowly; he was afraid they would reach the house before there had been time to tell more, possibly even some personal experiences.
“There’s a funny sort of road, or track rather, you may be seeing out shooting,” the chauffeur went on eagerly enough, yet half nervously. “It leads across the moor, and no man or woman will set foot on it to save their lives, not even in the daytime, let alone at night.” ”

“ In a flash he realized his alternative⁠—the dreary desolation of human progress with its grinding future, the joy and glory of a soulless happiness that reason denied and yet the heart welcomed as an ultimate truth. ”

“ The next day they were going to shoot the best beat on the moor and clear eyes and steady hands were important. The two drives for which Greystones was celebrated were to be taken⁠—Telegraph Hill and Silvermine⁠—both well known wherever shooting men congregated so that anticipation and excitement were understandable. An early bed was a small price to pay and Norman, keen and eager as any of them, was glad enough to get to his room when the others trooped upstairs. ”

“ For the moment he had forgotten all about Diana’s warning. Fuming and annoyed, he watched. To his amazement, the little band of black-faced sheep, on reaching the obvious path, jumped clear over it. They jumped the Trod. Not one of them would touch it. It was an astonishing sight. Each animal leapt across, as though the Trod might burn or injure them. They went their way across the rough heather and disappeared from sight.
Norman, remembering the warning uncomfortably, paused and lit a cigarette.
“That’s odd,” he said. “It’s the easiest way.”
“Maybe,” replied the loader. ”

“ As with the chauffeur, he was evidently relieved to give some kind of utterance to fears and superstitions he was at heart ashamed of and yet believed in.
“I don’t mind for myself, sir,” he broke out, obviously glad to talk, “for I’m leaving these part as soon as the grouse shooting’s over, but I’ve two little ’uns up here just now, and I want to keep ’em. Too many young ’uns get lost on the moor for my liking. I’m sending ’em tomorrow down to my aunt at Crossways⁠—”
“Good for you,” put in Norman. “It’s the equinox just now, isn’t it? And that’s the dangerous time, they say.” ”

“ And some fifteen minutes later he found himself, luggage and all, in the creaky, grunting train that would land him at Bracendale towards five o’clock. The dusk had fallen when, with great effort apparently, the struggling engine deposited him with his precious guns and cartridges on the deserted platform amid swirling mists a damp wind prepared for his reception. To his considerable relief a car was there to carry him the remaining ten miles to the Lodge, and he was soon comfortably installed among its luxurious rugs for the drive across the hills. ”

“ Sir Hiram came over and asked if he would mind taking the outside butt at the next drive.
“You see,” he explained courteously, “I always ask the youngest of the party to take the outside, as it’s a devil of a walk for the old ’uns. Probably,” he added, “you’ll get more shooting than anyone, as the birds slip away over yonder butt down a little gully. So you’ll find it worth the extra swot!”
Norman and his loader set off on their long tramp, while the rest of the guns made their way down to the road where the cars would carry them as far as the track allowed. ”

“ He woke next morning when he was called to find the sun streaming into his room, promising perfect shooting weather. In broad daylight the normal reactions followed as they usually do; the incidents of the day before now seemed slightly ridiculous⁠—his talk with Diana, the crucifix, the chauffeur’s fairytales above all. ”