A College Mystery (Black Heath Gothic, Sensation and Supernatural) by A.P. Baker

Author:A.P. Baker [Baker, A.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Heath Editions
Published: 2016-10-17T05:00:00+00:00

(4)

It was a beautiful night, calm and still, with a little moon and brilliant stars; I had perambulated the garden as usual until I think it must have been near midnight. Suddenly, as I stood by the medlar tree, which faces Milton’s mulberry, I started at hearing the door by Christ’s Pieces shut with a distinct noise. Standing still I listened, and heard the sound which I had heard once before of a body brushing through the shrubs. My mind was full of Collier, and I had little doubt that this was he. Peering through the bushes I saw a figure moving slowly along.

I stepped to a spot near by where the removal of some dead shrubs had given a clear view of the bathing pool. As I did so the figure which I knew to be that of Collier stumbled through the bushes on the further side of the pool and stood on the grass path that borders it. He was within a foot or two of the water. For a moment he stood still, as though hesitating and uncertain of his whereabouts; he passed his hands over his face, and I noticed that he had no hat. The gesture gave the impression of someone half dazed trying in vain to sweep away the mists that clouded his brain. Then he began to move up the path towards the garden house. He swayed heavily and brushed into the bushes; righting himself he advanced till he was a quarter of a length from the end of the path. Then he stumbled again, and all but fell into the water. This appeared to frighten him, for he turned suddenly in the path and walked the other way, traversing half the length of the bath in that direction. He was now beside the deeper water, where it is quite six feet to the bottom of the bath. Suddenly he gave a fearful lurch towards the bushes, made a violent effort to recover himself, and in so doing put one foot right on the edge of the path. The soft soil gave way under the pressure. I saw him throw out his arms as if to recover his balance, but the attempt failed, and with a suppressed cry he fell headlong into the water.

Now Collier, as I knew, was a good and powerful swimmer; we had often bathed together in the swimming bath. But he seemed dazed and struggled feebly in the water. I had been in great doubt as to what to do. To have shouted to him when on the path would have startled him, and perhaps have precipitated the catastrophe. There was no time to reach him and guide him from his dangerous path; to do that it would have been necessary to walk to the bath and half-way round it. But on seeing him fall I plunged through the bushes and emerged beside the water, near the urn which commemorates Joseph Mede.11 Collier was struggling in the deep end

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