“You are just the very person I wanted to meet,” she said. “Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Mr Spencer Ashton. He’s not an actor, he’s an artist, and he’s got such a queer, queer story about ghosts and things near your beloved St Andrews.”
I bowed to Mr Ashton, who was a quiet-looking man, pale and thin, rather like a benevolent2 animated3 hairpin4. He reminded me somehow of Fred Vokes. We shook hands warmly.
“Yes,” he said, “my story sounds like fiction, but it is a fact, as I can prove. It is rather long, but it may possibly interest you. Where could we foregather?”
“Come and dine with me at the Edinburgh Hotel to-night at eight. I’ll get a private room,” I said.
“Right oh!” said he, and we parted.
That evening at eight o’clock we met at the old Edinburgh Hotel (now no longer in existence), and after dinner he told me his very remarkable5 tale.
“Some years ago,” he said, “I was staying in a small coast town in Fife, not very far from St Andrews. I was painting some quaint6 houses and things of the sort that tickled7 my fancy at the time, and I was very much amused and excited by some of the bogie tales told me by the fisher folk. One story particularly interested me.”
“And what was that?” I asked.
“Well, it was about a strange, dwarfish8, old man, who, they[2] swore, was constantly wandering about among the rocks at nightfall; a queer, uncanny creature, they said, who was ‘aye beckoning9 to them,’ and who was never seen or known in the daylight. I heard so much at various times and from various people about this old man that I resolved to look for him and see what his game really was. I went down to the beach times without number, but saw nothing worse than myself, and I was almost giving the job up as hopeless, when one night ‘I struck oil,’ as the Yankees would say.”
“Good,” I said, “let me hear.”
“It was after dusk,” he proceeded, “very rough and windy, but with a feeble moon peeping out at times between the racing10 clouds. I was alone on the beach. Next moment I was not alone.”
“Not alone,” I remarked. “Who was there?”
“Certainly not alone,” said Ashton. “About three yards from me stood a quaint, short, shrivelled, old creature. At that time the comic opera of ‘Pinafore’ was new to the stage-loving world, and this strange being resembled the character of ‘Dick Deadeye’ in that piece. But this old man was much uglier and more repulsive11. He wore a tattered12 monk13’s robe, had a fringe of black hair, heavy black eyebrows14, very protruding15 teeth, and a pale, pointed16, unshaven chin. Moreover, he possessed17 only one eye, which was large and telescopic looking.”
“What a horrid18 brute,” I said.
“Oh! he wasn’t half so bad after all,” said Ashton, “though his appearance was certainly against him. He kept beckoning to me with a pale, withered19 hand, continually muttering, ‘Come.’ I felt compelled to follow him, and follow him I did.”
I lit up another pipe and listened intently.
“He took me,” resumed Ashton, “into a natural cave, a cleft20 in the rocks, and we went stumbling over the rocks and stones, and splashing into pools. At least I did. He seemed to get along all right. At the far end of this clammy cave, a very narrow staircase, cut out of solid rock, ascended21 abruptly22 about twenty or thirty steps, then turned a corner and descended23 again into a large passage. Then a mighty24 queer thing happened.”
“What might that be?” I enquired25.
[3]
“Well, my guide somehow or other suddenly became possessed of a huge great candlestick with a lighted candle in it, about three feet high, which lit up the vaulted26 passage.
“‘We now stand in the monk’s sub-way,’ he said.
“‘Indeed, and who may you be? Are you a man or a ghost?’
“The queer figure turned. ‘I am human,’ he said, ‘do not fear me. I was a monk years ago, now I am reincarnate27—time and space are nothing whatever to me. I only arrived a short while ago from Naples to meet you here.’”
“Good heavens, Ashton,” I said, “is this all true?”
“Absolutely true, my dear fellow,” said Ashton. “I was in my sound senses, not hypnotised or anything of that sort, I assure you. On and on we went, the little man with his big candle leading the way, and I following. Two or three times the sub-way narrowed, and we had a tight squeeze to get through, I can tell you.”
“What a rum place,” I interjected.
“Yes, it was that,” said Ashton, “but it got still rummer as we went up and down more stairs, and then popped through a hole into a lower gallery, and I noticed side passages branching off in several different directions.
“‘Walk carefully and look where you tread,’ said my monkish28 guide. ‘There are pitfalls29 here; be very wary31.’
“Then I noticed at my feet a deep, rock-hewn pit about two feet wide right across the passage. ‘What is that for?’ I asked. ‘To trap intruders and enemies,’ said the little monk. ‘Look down.’ I did so, and I saw at the bottom, in a pool of water, a whitened skull32 and a number of bones. We passed four or five such shafts33 in our progress.”
“’Pon my word, this beats me altogether,” I interpolated.
“It would have beaten me altogether if I had fallen into one of those traps,” said Ashton. “Suddenly the close, damp, fungus34 sort of air changed and I smelt35 a sweet fragrant36 odour. ‘I smell incense37,’ I said to the monk.
“‘It is the wraith38, or ghost, of a smell,’ he said. ‘There has been no incense hereaway since 1546. There are ghosts of sounds and smells, just as there are ghosts of people. We are[4] here surrounded by spirits, but they are transparent39, and you cannot see them unless they are materialised, but you can feel them.’
“‘Hush, hark!’ said the monk, and then I heard a muffled40 sound of most beautiful chiming bells, the like I never heard before.
“‘What is that?’
“‘The old bells of St Andrews Cathedral. That is the ghost of sounds long ago ceased,’ and the monk muttered some Latin. Then all of a sudden I heard very beautiful chanting for a moment or more, then it died away.
“‘That is the long dead choir41 of monks42 chanting vespers,’ remarked my guide, sadly.
“At this period the monk and I entered a large, rock-hewn chamber43, wide and lofty. In it there were numerous huge old iron clamped chests of different sizes and shapes.
“‘These,’ said the monk, ‘are packed full of treasures, jewels, and vestments. They will be needed again some day. Above us now there are ploughed fields, but long ago right over our heads there existed a church and monastery44 to which these things belonged.’ He pointed with a skinny claw of a hand to one corner of the chamber. ‘There,’ he said, ‘is the staircase that once led to the church above.’”
Ashton stopped and lit a cigar, then resumed.
“Well, on we went again, turning, twisting, going up steps, round corners, through more holes, and stepping over pitfall30 shafts. It was a loathsome45 and gruesome place.
“Out of a side passage I saw a female figure glide46 quickly along. She was dressed as a bride for a wedding; then she disappeared.
“‘Fear not,’ said the monk, ‘that is Mirren of Hepburn’s Tower, the White Lady, she can materialise herself and appear when she chooses, but she is not reincarnate as I am.’
“Well, after we had gone on it seemed for hours, as I have described, the monk paused.
“‘I fear I must leave you,’ he said, suddenly. ‘I am wanted. Before I go, take this,’ and he placed in my hand a tiny gold cup delicately chased; ‘it is a talisman47 and will[5] bring you good luck always,’ he said. ‘Keep it safe, I may never see you again here, but do not forget.’
“Then I was alone in black darkness. He and his candle had vanished in a second. Quite alone in that awful prison, heaven only knows how far below the ground, I could never have gone back, and I feared to go forward. I was entombed in a worse place than the Roman Catacombs, with no hope of rescue, as it was unknown and forgotten by all.”
“What a fearful position to be in,” I said.
“I should think it was,” said Ashton. “The awful horror of it I can never forget as long as I live. I was absolutely powerless and helpless. I had lost my nerve, and I screamed aloud in an agony of mind. I had some matches, and these I used at rare intervals48, crawling carefully and feeling my way along the slimy floor of the passage. I had a terrible feeling, too, that something intangible, but horrible, was crawling along after me and stopping when I stopped. I heard it breathing. I struck a match, and it was lucky, for I just missed another of those pitfalls. By the light of the match I saw a small shrine49 in an alcove50 which had once been handsomely ornamented51. My progress forward was suddenly stopped by a gruesome procession of skeleton monks all in white. They crossed the main sub-way from one side passage and entered another. Their heads were all grinning skulls52, and in their long bony fingers they bore enormous candles, which illuminated53 the passage with a feeble blue glare.”
“It’s awful,” I remarked.
“On, and on, I slowly went. It seemed hours and hours. I was exhausted54 and hungry and thirsty. After a time I passed through open oak nail-studded doors that were rotting on their hinges, and then—then, I saw a sight so horrible that I would never mention it to anyone. I dare not, I may know its meaning some day—I hope so—”
“What on earth was it?” I inquired eagerly.
“For heaven’s sake let me go on and do not ask about it,” said Ashton, turning ghastly pale. “The horror of the whole thing so upset me that my foot slipped, and I fell down what seemed to be a steep stairway. As I struck the bottom I felt my left wrist snap, and I fainted. When I regained55 my[6] senses for a brief moment, I found that the White Lady, bearing a taper56, was bending kindly57 over me. She had a lovely face, but as pale as white marble. She laid an icy cold hand on my hot brow, and then all was darkness again.
“Now listen! Next time I came to myself and opened my eyes I was out of the accursed passage. I saw the sky and the stars, and I felt a fresh breeze blowing. Oh! joy, I was back on the earth again, that I knew. I staggered feebly to my feet, and where on earth do you think I found I had been lying?”
“I cannot guess,” I said.
“Just inside the archway of the old Pends gateway58 at St Andrews,” said Ashton.
“How on earth did you get there?”
“Heaven knows,” said Ashton, “I expect the White Lady helped me somehow. It all seemed like a fearful nightmare, but I had the gold cup in my pocket and my broken wrist to bear testimony59 to what I had gone through. To make a long story short, I went home to my people, where I lay for six long weeks suffering from brain fever and shock. I always carry the cup with me. I am not superstitious60; but it brings me good luck always.”
Ashton showed me the monk’s gold cup. It was a beautiful little relic61.
“Did you ever examine the place where you entered the passage?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, “I went there some years afterwards and found the cave, but it has all fallen in now.”
“By Jove! It’s very late, thanks for the dinner, I must be off. Good night.”
I lit a pipe and pondered over that curious story. The entrance to the passage in the cave has fallen in; the exit from it in St Andrews is unknown to Ashton—only the White Lady knows.
On the whole, the story is wrapped in mystery, and does not help one much to unravel62 the wonders that lie in underground St Andrews. We may know some day or never.
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1
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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2
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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3
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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hairpin
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| n.簪,束发夹，夹发针 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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6
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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7
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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dwarfish
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| a.像侏儒的，矮小的 | |
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9
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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10
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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12
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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14
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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15
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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16
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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17
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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18
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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19
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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20
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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21
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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23
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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24
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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25
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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26
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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reincarnate
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| v.使化身，转生；adj.转世化身的 | |
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28
monkish
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| adj.僧侣的，修道士的，禁欲的 | |
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29
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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30
pitfall
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| n.隐患，易犯的错误；陷阱，圈套 | |
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31
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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32
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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33
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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34
fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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35
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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36
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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37
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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38
wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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39
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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40
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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41
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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42
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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43
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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45
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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46
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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47
talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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48
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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49
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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50
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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51
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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53
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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54
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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55
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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56
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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57
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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58
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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59
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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60
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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61
relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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62
unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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