THE LIGHT
The London papers were with excitement. Marshfielden had at last to the vast, world, for the of so many of its no longer be under a veil. After the was to be missing, Mr. Dickson at the mine Slater promise to report the to the Kiltown police—the nearest to Marshfielden.
The officer and his men came over and took notes and asked questions, but after a fortnight’s search came no nearer the mystery. Then one of the too, and Sergeant Alken it was high time to report the to Scotland Yard.
Detective Inspector Vardon, the shrewdest, man at the Yard, came immediately, and at once sent for Alan and Desmond Forsyth. He had been out a in the train and these two men were very closely with it.
But after his with them, he that his were wrong, and he must look for a clue. Alan told the full without any and how they themselves had over the “Curse.”
“Pooh Pooh!” laughed Vardon “We will the ‘Curse’ out of the question. These are by no witchcraft, but by a clever, brain.”
“Do you think so?” asked Desmond.
“Of course,” and Alan gave a of as he 34murmured, “you don’t know how that has me. I was to a of the unknown.”
“Of it’s an case,” on the Inspector, “but we’ll solve the problem yet.” Then he added laughingly, “I came here prepared to you two gentlemen.”
“Us? Why?”
“Well, all these after you here, and I you were none too popular with the natives.”
Desmond was indignant, but Vardon soon him down. “See here, my dear sir. It’s my to until I myself of his innocence. I know now I was mistaken—therefore I have been with you.”
The some time, and every day some fresh in its wake, the little village with and consternation, and the London editors’ pockets with gold. Sightseers and came to the place, and the Marshfielden and Kiltown a small from the curious. Every day the papers some fresh loss—perhaps a cow or a pig, but often a life. Women their homes, and the men walked about in pairs, so that they help each other should the “unknown” upon them.
The two boys still in the mine, and the men, at last that they were not the of all the trouble, them, at first, into their again.
Alan and Desmond were happy with Mrs. Warren, but missed Mr. Winthrop’s and greatly. No of him had been found, and a man now took his duties. Amateur about the place, but the in a to every one. Even the police officials themselves had to in near by for their own use, as no was high to obtain for them. Inspector Vardon was to disheartened; he had 35formed many his stay, but upon minute they all to pieces.
Walking away from the village one day, his hands his and his upon his breast, in thought, he was from his by the of groans. Hedges were on either of him, but he over the one from the came.
There a sheep, its away and its scorched. He the in pity, and the his last. He was puzzled. There was no of fire at all—the animal alone had been hurt.
He for a moment, and the came into his mind that this was a to the and he had been trying to unravel—but after a moment, he the as being impossible, and that the accident must have been by a passer-by away a match or a cigarette, so he across the to tell the farmer of his loss. That night, however, he had to think more over the to the sheep.
About six in the Ezra Meakin and a set out for Kiltown. They to the night there and come by the in the morning. At eight a shrieking, man came into Marshfielden, and in a across the steps that up to the church.
Matt Harding was near and ran to his aid.
“Good God, it’s Ezra!” he cried.
It was indeed, but a very different Ezra from the one who had left Marshfielden only two hours before. His were and his singed, while great blisters, that have been only by heat, his face.
“What has come over ye, lad?” asked Matt in concern.
“The fire! The fire!” Ezra hysterically. “It’s taken Luke—he’s gone,” and with the he into unconsciousness.
Matt him up in his arms, and him 36to the nearest cottage. “Fetch the Inspector,” said he as he himself in trying to life to the on the bed. At length he succeeded—a passed through the body; the hands unclasped; the slightly. Then the slowly moved, and Matt in at the wide open eyes. Blindly he out of the room, and into the arms of the Inspector.
“What’s the matter?” asked Vardon.
Matt looked at him for a moment, and then gave a harsh, laugh. “Ezra—he’s—he’s—”
“Yes?”
“He’s blind.”
“Blind?”
Matt Harding say no more, but on to a chair and his in his hands.
For a week Ezra delirious, and it was longer than that any one his from him. When it came, it was and almost incoherent. After he and Luke Wilden had walked about a mile, he told them, they saw in the something that looked like a red wire on the horizon. Dancing and it nearer to them, and they to see what it possibly be.
Then suddenly, they realized, it was upon them. It and around Luke’s body, and him off into mid-air. As he to Luke from its clutches, the end of it, in around Luke still more firmly, him, and and him. He no more; dim, and he the long, road the village, him in place of his sight.
Every one the incredulously, and it appeared in the London newspapers, and to make the “Marshfielden Mystery” as it was called, still more and unfathomable.
Ezra from the shock, but his was gone forever.
“Destroyed by fire,” was the of the who was called in to his case.
37The of the “Light” daily more terrifying. School children they saw it from the of their class-rooms, and when closely questioned about it, it was “a of fire, as thin as wire, that came through the sky like lightning.”
Then men to watch for it, but somehow it to most of them, and for some time, were all that be with to it.
“What do you make of it, Alan?” asked Desmond one day, after it had been by three different at the same time and in the same direction.
“I don’t know. Every one is not a liar, and at the same time every one cannot from a like delusion. Every one who has this in every detail about its appearance.”
“Yes, the children,” Desmond.
“Let’s go for a walk,” his cousin. “I very to-day.”
Mrs. Warren them going toward the gate with in her eyes, and just as they were about to pass through, she to the door. “Be you agoin’ out? Oh, do’ant ’ee go—do’ant ’ee—not to-night! I be afeared—mortal afeared.”
“Oh, we’ll take of ourselves,” laughed Desmond. “Don’t you worry.”
“But I’m afeared.” She as she spoke—but the boys laughed as they walked toward the Corlot Woods, a spot of theirs.
As they the leading to the path across the fields, they a dog pitifully. Alan, always tender-hearted animals, stopped and looked round. Again came the cry. “I think it must be across the way,” said Desmond. Alan the road, and then called out to his cousin.
“It’s Slater’s pup”—he over it closely—“Why its leg is and its is singed,” he added in an awe-struck tone.
A him—an that nearly him; he a shriek—a groan.
38Once more the “Light” had its prey. Alan was alone!
“Come at once. Something terrible has to Dez. Don’t delay. Alan.”
Such was the that Sir John Forsyth upon at his office the day after Desmond’s disappearance. The two boys had him posted with all the news at Marshfielden. But as he always himself upon his common sense, he laughed with the boys at the that the “Curse” was for the in the little Derbyshire village.
His as he read the message, and he of the “Curse,” yet put the as as it came.
Masters, his secretary, almost friend, looked at him pityingly.
“I am going to Marshfielden,” Sir John.
“Shall I come with you?” asked Masters.
“Yes, Masters, I shall need you.”
“An for Derby in an hour,” on Masters. “If we book there, I can ’phone through for a car to meet us and us direct to Grimland.”
“Yes! Yes! You arrange,” and Sir John, who had as many years old as minutes had passed since he had had the news, sat with his teeth and his trembling.
“A car will be waiting for us at Derby,” Masters as they took their seats in the train.
At last the sounded, the flag waved, and the great engine as it left the station.
Sir John, in his of mind, was unable to still; up and the he walked until the to his white, face, and what his trouble be. Derby at last! Then a to Grimland. Alan was his Uncle at the head; he had not to go to since the “Light” had taken Desmond 39from his side. Silently they hands, and Sir John entered the little office and the whole story.
Alan up by saying, “Even as I tell the story, it almost incredible. As I I saw Desmond in mid-air, with, it seemed, a wire about him—and as I looked he from sight.”
Sir John was not to look upon it as witchcraft.
“It’s man’s devilry, I’ll be bound,” said he. “I’ll it’s not supernatural. Get all the scientists down—let them make investigations. I’ll pay handsomely, but the I will.”
The men, when they that Desmond had disappeared, were shamefaced, and came to Mrs. Warren’s to offer their sympathy. They to for their past conduct, by Alan and his Uncle to in Marshfielden. But Alan refused. “No, we’ll here,” said he. “Mrs. Warren has me very comfortable. But we’ll come and visit Marshfielden, if we may, and do our to the of this plot.”
“Aye, do ’ee sur, do ’ee,” said the men, and Alan by their friendship.
Sir John with Alan for a fortnight, but as others had disappeared, so had Desmond, and no of him be found. It was necessary for Sir John to return to town, in order that he might keep his and he asked Alan to him.
“I the day I sent you to Grimland,” said he over and over again.
“Don’t so, Uncle John! How anyone have such a calamity. No, I’ll here, and I may be the means of the mystery.”
Police from the Continent, from America, Asiatic and all came to Marshfielden—but none solved the mystery. For days no one out of doors, and when at length they did so, it was with steps and breath. No one who would be the next of the 40strange power that the place. Summer came again! A year had passed and left its mark on the once peaceful English village. Many white the little churchyard, but of all the new ones, marked the last place of those names they bore. A in the corner, under a ash, named the spot to the memory of little Jimmie Murlock, the of the “Light”.
Moll Murlock had gone out of her mind. The had her brain,—and when, one after another, she learned of the that were daily on the little village, her left her entirely, and she was taken to the Kiltown asylum. Dan alone, in the little cottage, his white, and his old and wrinkled; and none of his the past to his mind. The new who had taken Mr. Winthrop’s place was very unpopular, and on Sundays the church was nearly empty. Fear had their from Heaven, and while men openly their God, the their in their hearts.
Inspector Vardon was still investigating, but his reports to the Yard were all the same. “Nothing to hand” and then came the day when he added “Fear this is me” and the looked at each other in dismay, as they it would one of the of the day. They had no or man in their than Marcus Vardon.
Then the “Light” disappeared. No more were reported, on more calmly, and to go out of doors more freely. Children returned to school, and Marshfielden had almost normal again. For two months there were no casualties, and people that the had for good, or itself out.
And the next Sunday the new from his a full church. The people had once more come to the house of God for and to return Him thanks for the of the past 41horrors. And his voice as he gave out his text, from the one hundred and twenty-first psalm:—
“The Lord shall from all evil; the Lord shall going out and in, from this time for more.”
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