Complete Works of Beatrix Potter by Beatrix Potter

Author:Beatrix Potter [Potter, Beatrix]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Delphi Classics
Published: 2013-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

The fatal day arrived. The dreaded sounds approached; clatter of horsemen over the drawbridge, clamour and tumult of dismounting.

Anne, white faced and stiff, stood erect behind a chair. Her hand clutched its carved back, her bent nails dug into the oak. Fatima cowered in an embrasure beneath an arrow slit. A cold wind blew down on her white neck; her face was sunk in her bosom; the quaint long-homed head-dress that she wore pointed forward like a unicorn’s horn. Her bell-shaped sleeves covered her clenched hands; her long-toed shoes were drawn up under the skirt of her yellow gown; a collapsed, pathetic figure. The hound sat beside her. His muzzle touched her knee; he eyed her mournfully.

A spurred clanking tread came up the steps to the stone hall; the Baron strode over the threshold. He paused with a snort— “pouff!” and stood in the gloom of the doorway, looking slyly at the women. His eyebrows frowned down over his sharp pig-like eyes; the mustachios of his azure beard curled up under his hawk-like nose— “Pouff! how now, madam wife? What’s to do?” Fatima shivered and sunk lower. “What ails you both? Speak, cannot you, fool?” said the Baron to Anne.

“Sir, my sister is not well,” said Anne, with dry lips.

“Ha? not well? hath she— “asked the Baron quickly.

“Sir, she hath an ague,” said Anne.:

“Pouff! an ague, foresooth!” He strode across the floor and took his wife by the shoulder, jerking her roughly to her feet.

Her white lips moved; her big dark terrified eyes lifted to his face, and dropped with a shudder.

“Oh, ho! say you so?” said the Baron, though no word had she spoken. “Are you, too, struck dumb, Sister Anne? Hath she seen a ghost?”

Involuntarily Fatima gave a low cry.

“Hm’m! this needs looking into. Your pulse beats wildly, madam wife. A bolus, a mouse powder, a blue pill, or even something stronger were beneficial. Here you, sister-in-law Anne — sister fool — sister idiot! Fetch me the keys of my cupboard!”

. Again he shook Fatima roughly; the long-homed coif fell back; revealing her dark plaited hair. She was white to the lips..

Slowly, very slowly, as though her feet were lead, Anne crossed the foisty rushes and opened the cupboard. She took out the bunch of heavy keys, strung on an iron ring. She gave them into his right hand; his left still gripped Fatima’s shoulder as she crouched at his feet. He looked at the keys and smelled them.

“Faugh! Grease! tallow grease! and a stain; a stain that smells like blood.” He swung up the keys as though he would bring them down on Fatima’s head; and the key of the donjon was heavy. She wrenched from his grasp and fell moaning at his feet; he kicked her.

“Faugh!” said the Baron, “Tallow and blood! Down dog!” (The hound flew at him, bristling.) “Come, madam! peeping and prying! Since you have seen them once, you shall see them again! Come!”

He took her by the homed head-dress; it came away in his hand.

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