LITMIR.BIZ

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were wide sands, when the tide was out; when it was in, it came up nearly to the end of the village street. The people were mostly fishermen, but there were a few farmers and labourers; the boats of the fishermen lay to the east side of the village, near the river channel which gave some draught of water; and the channel was marked out by big black stakes and posts that straggled out over the sands, like awkward leaning figures, to the sea’s brim.

      Father Thomas lived in a small and ancient brick house near the church, with a little garden of herbs attached. He was a kindly man, much worn by age and weather, with a wise heart, and he loved the quiet life with his small flock. This morning he had come out of his house to look abroad, before he settled down to the making of his sermon. He looked out to sea, and saw with a shadow of sadness the black outline of a wreck that had come ashore a week before, and over which the white waves were now breaking. The wind blew steadily from the north-east, and had a bitter poisonous chill in it, which it doubtless drew from the fields of the upper ice. The day was dark and overhung, not with cloud, but with a kind of dreary vapour that shut out the sun. Father Thomas shuddered at the wind, and drew his patched cloak round him. As he did so, he saw three figures come up to the vicarage gate. It was not a common thing for him to have visitors in the morning, and he saw with surprise that they were old Master John Grimston, the richest man in the place, half farmer and half fisherman, a dark surly old man; his wife, Bridget, a timid and frightened woman, who found life with her harsh husband a difficult business, in spite of their wealth, which, for a place like Blea, was great; and their son Henry, a silly shambling man of forty, who was his father’s butt. The three walked silently and heavily, as though they came on a sad errand.

      Father Thomas went briskly down to meet them, and greeted them with his accustomed cheerfulness. ‘And what may I do for you?’ he said. Old Master Grimston made a sort of gesture with his head as though his wife should speak; and she said in a low and somewhat husky voice, with a rapid utterance, ‘We have a matter, Father, we would ask you about – are you at leisure?’ Father Thomas said, ‘Ay, I am ashamed to be not more busy! Let us go within the house.’ They did so; and even in the little distance to the door, the Father thought that his visitors behaved themselves very strangely. They peered round from left to right, and once or twice Master Grimston looked sharply behind them, as though they were followed. They said nothing but ‘Ay’ and ‘No’ to the Father’s talk, and bore themselves like people with a sore fear on their backs. Father Thomas made up his mind that it was some question of money, for nothing else was wont to move Master Grimston’s mind. So he had them into his parlour and gave them seats, and then there was a silence, while the two men continued to look furtively about them, and the goodwife sate with her eyes upon the priest’s face. Father Thomas knew not what to make of this, till Master Grimston said harshly, ‘Come wife, tell the tale and make an end; we must not take up the Father’s time.’

      ‘I hardly know how to say it, Father,’ said Bridget, ‘but a strange and evil thing has befallen us; there is something come to our house, and we know not what it is – but it brings a fear with it.’ A sudden paleness came over her face, and she stopped, and the three exchanged a glance in which terror was visibly written. Master Grimston looked over his shoulder swiftly, and made as though to speak, yet only swallowed in his throat; but Henry said suddenly, in a loud and woeful voice, ‘It is an evil beast out of the sea.’ And then there followed a dreadful silence, while Father Thomas felt a sudden fear leap up in his heart, at the contagion of fear that he saw written on the faces round him. But he said with all the cheerfulness he could muster, ‘Come, friends, let us not begin to talk of sea-beasts; we must have the whole tale. Mistress Grimston, I must hear the story – be content – nothing can touch us here.’ The three seemed to draw a faint content from his words, and Bridget began:

      ‘It was the day of the wreck, Father. John was up betimes before the dawn; he walked out early to the sands, and Henry with him – and they were the first to see the wreck – was not that it?’ At these words the father and son seemed to exchange a very swift and secret look, and both grew pale. ‘John told me there was a wreck ashore, and they went presently and roused the rest of the village; and all that day they were out, saving what could be saved. Two sailors were found, both dead and pitifully battered by the sea, and they were buried, as you know, Father, in the churchyard next day; John came back about dusk and Henry with him, and we sate down to our supper. John was telling me about the wreck, as we sate beside the fire, when Henry, who was sitting apart, rose up and cried out suddenly, “What is that?”’

      She paused for a moment, and Henry, who sate with face blanched, staring at his mother, said, ‘Ay, did I – it ran past me suddenly.’ ‘Yes, but what was it?’ said Father Thomas trying to smile; ‘a dog or cat, methinks?’ ‘It was a beast,’ said Henry slowly, in a trembling voice – ‘a beast about the bigness of a goat. I never saw the like – yet I did not see it clear; I but felt the air blow, and caught a whiff of it – it was salt like the sea, but with a kind of dead smell behind.’ ‘Was that all you saw?’ said Father Thomas; ‘Belike you were tired and faint, and the air swam round you suddenly – I have known the like myself when weary.’ ‘Nay, nay,’ said Henry, ‘this was not like that – it was a beast, sure enough.’ ‘Ay, and we have seen it since,’ said Bridget. ‘At least I have not seen it clearly yet, but I have smelt its odour, and it turns me sick – but John and Henry have seen it often – sometimes it lies and seems to sleep, but it watches us; and again it is merry, and will leap in a corner – and John saw it skip upon the sands near the wreck – did you not, John?’ At these words the two men again exchanged a glance, and then old Master Grimston, with a dreadful look in his face, in which great anger seemed to strive with fear, said ‘Nay, silly woman, it was not near the wreck, it was out to the east.’ ‘It matters little,’ said Father Thomas, who saw well enough this was no light matter. ‘I never heard the like of it. I will myself come down to your house with a holy book, and see if the thing will meet me. I know not what this is,’ he went on, ‘whether it is a vain terror that hath hold of you; but there be spirits of evil in the world, though much fettered by Christ and his Saints – we read of such in Holy Writ – and the sea, too, doubtless hath its monsters; and it may be that one hath wandered out of the waves, like a dog that hath strayed from his home. I dare not say, till I have met it face to face. But God gives no power to such things to hurt those who have a fair conscience.’ – And here he made a stop and looked at the three; Bridget sate regarding him with hope in her face; but the other two sate peering upon the ground; and the priest divined in some secret way that all was not well with them. ‘But I will come at once,’ he said, rising, ‘and I will see if I can cast out or bind the thing, whatever it be – for I am in this place as a soldier of the Lord, to fight with works of darkness.’ He took a clasped book from a table, and lifted up his hat, saying, ‘Let us set forth.’ Then he said as they left the room, ‘Hath it appeared today?’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ said Henry, ‘and it was ill content. It followed us as though it were angered.’ ‘Come,’ said Father Thomas, turning upon him, ‘you speak thus of a thing, as you might speak of a dog – what is it like?’ ‘Nay,’ said Henry, ‘I know not; I can never see it clearly; it is like a speck in the eye – it is never there when you look upon it – it glides away very secretly; it is most like a goat, I think. It seems to be horned, and hairy; but I have seen its eyes, and they were yellow, like a flame.’

      As he said these words Master Grimston went in haste to the door, and pulled it open as though to breathe the air. The others followed him and went out; but Master Grimston drew the priest aside, and said like a man in a mortal fear, ‘Look you, Father, all this is true – the thing is a devil – and why it abides with us I know not; but I cannot live so; and unless it be cast out it will slay me – but if money be of avail, I have it in abundance.’ ‘Nay,’ said Father Thomas, ‘let there be no talk of money – perchance if I can aid you, you may give of your gratitude to God.’ ‘Ay, ay,’ said the old man hurriedly, ‘that was what I meant – there is money in abundance for God, if he will but set me free.’

      So they walked very sadly together through the street. There were few folk about; the men and the children were all abroad – a woman or two came to the house doors, and wondered a little to see them pass so solemnly, as though they followed a body to the grave.

      Master Grimston’s

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