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Directly underneath the hanging chain, which did not come closer to the ground than some eight or ten feet, was a huge tomb in the shape of a rectangular coffer caixa, arca or sarcophagus. It was open, save for a huge

sheet of thick glass which rested above it on two thick balks barrote (tronco) of dark oak, cut to exceeding smoothness muito liso, which lay across it, one at either end. On the far side from where I stood each of these was joined to another oak plank prancha, tábua, also cut smooth, which sloped gently to the rocky

floor. Should it be necessary to open the tomb, the glass could be

made to slide along the supports and descend by the sloping planks.

Naturally curious to know what might be within such a strange

receptacle, I raised the lantern, depressing baixar its lens lente so that the light might fall within.

Then I started back with a cry, the lantern slipping from my nerveless sem forças hand and falling with a ringing sound on the great sheet of thick glass.

Within, pillowed on soft cushions, and covered with a mantle manto woven tecer of white natural fleece lã sprigged com ramos ou raminhos with tiny sprays of pine pinho wrought in gold, lay the body of a woman--none other than my beautiful visitor.

She was marble white, and her long black eyelashes lay on her white cheeks as though she slept.

Without a word or a sound, save the sounds made by my hurrying feet on the stone flooring, I fled up the steep steps, and through the dim expanse of the church, out into the bright sunlight. I found that I had mechanically raised the fallen lamp, and had taken it with me in my flight.

My feet naturally turned towards home. It was all instinctive. The new horror had--for the time, at any rate pelo menos--drowned my mind in its

mystery, deeper than the deepest depths of thought or imagination.

BOOK IV: UNDER THE FLAGSTAFF mastro de bandeira

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 1, 1907.

For some days after the last adventure I was in truth in a half-dazed aturdido, atordoado condition, unable to think sensibly, hardly coherently. Indeed, it

was as much as I could do to preserve something of my habitual

appearance and manner. However, my first test happily came soon, and when I was once through it I reacquired sufficient self-confidence to

go through with realizar, levar a cabo my purpose. Gradually the original phase of stupefaction passed, and I was able to look the situation in the face. I knew the worst now, at any rate; and when the lowest point has been reached things must begin to mend reparar, consertar. Still, I was wofully tristemente

sensitive regarding anything which might affect my Lady of the

Shroud, or even my opinion of her. I even began to dread Aunt

Janet's Second-Sight visions or dreams. These had a fatal habit of coming so near to fact that they always made for conduzir a, encaminhar-se para a danger of discovery. I had to realize now that the Lady of the Shroud might indeed be a Vampire--one of that horrid race that survives death and carries on a life-in-death existence eternally and only for evil.

Indeed, I began to EXPECT that Aunt Janet would ere long dentro em pouco have some prophetic insight conhecimento, revelação to the matter. She had been so wonderfully correct in her prophetic surmises suposição, desconfiança, suspeição with regard to both the visits to my room

that it was hardly possible that she could fail to take cognizance of

this last development.

But my dread was not justified; at any rate seja como for, pelo menos, I had no reason to suspect that by any force or exercise of her occult gift she might

cause me concern by the discovery of my secret. Only once did I feel that actual danger in that respect was close to me. That was when

she came early one morning and rapped dar pancada seca e breve at my door. When I called out, "Who is that? What is it?" she said in an agitated way:

"Thank God, laddie, you are all right! Go to sleep again."

Later on, when we met at breakfast, she explained that she had had a nightmare in the grey of the morning. She thought she had seen me in the crypt of a great church close beside a stone coffin; and, knowing that such was an ominous de mau agouro, ameaçador, sinistro subject to dream about, came as soon as she dared to see if I was all right. Her mind was evidently set on death and burial, for she went on:

"By the way, Rupert, I am told that the great church on time top of

the cliff across the creek is St. Sava's, where the great people of the country used to be buried. I want you to take me there some day.

We shall go over it, and look at the tombs and monuments together. I

really think I should be afraid to go alone, but it will be all right if you are with me." This was getting really dangerous, so I turned it aside afastar-se, desviar-se:

Really, Aunt Janet, I'm afraid it won't do. If you go off to weird old churches, and fill yourself up with a fresh supply of horrors, I don't know what will happen. You'll be dreaming dreadful things about me every night and neither you nor I shall get any sleep." It went to my heart to oppose her in any wish; and also this kind of chaffy árido, travesso, brincalhão opposition might pain her. But I had no alternative; the matter was too serious to be allowed to proceed ir para diante, avançar. Should Aunt Janet go to the church, she would surely want to visit the crypt. Should

she do so, and there notice the glass-covered tomb--as she could not

help doing--the Lord only knew what would happen. She had already Second-Sighted a woman being married to me, and before I myself knew that I had such a hope. What might she not reveal did she know where the woman came from? It may have been that her power of Second Sight had to rest on some basis of knowledge or belief, and that her vision was but some intuitive perception of my own subjective thought. But whatever seja o que for it was it should be stopped--at all hazards custe o que custar. This whole episode set me thinking introspectively, and led me gradually but imperatively to self-analysis--not of powers capacidades, but of motives ideia principal, assunto. I found myself before long examining myself as to what were my real intentions. I thought at first that this intellectual process was an exercise of pure reason; but soon discarded this as inadequate--even impossible. Reason is a cold manifestation; this

feeling which swayed influenciar, dominar (oscilar, balançar) and dominated me is none other than passion,

which is quick, hot, and insistent.

As for myself, the self-analysis could lead to but one result--the

expression to myself of the reality and definiteness of an alreadyformed

though unconscious intention. I wished to do the woman good--to serve her in some way--to secure her some benefit benefício by any means, no matter how difficult, which might be within my power. I knew that I loved her--loved her most truly and fervently; there was no need for self-analysis to tell me that. And, moreover além disso, no self-analysis, or any other mental process that I knew of, could help my one doubt: whether she was an ordinary woman (or an extraordinary woman, for the matter of that) in some sore and terrible straits dificuldade, aperto, situação difícil (estreito, canal); or else one who lay under some dreadful condition, only partially alive, and not

mistress of herself or her acts. Whichever seja qual for her condition might be,

there was in my own feeling a superfluity superabundância, superfluidade of affection for her. The

self-analysis taught me one thing, at any rate pelo menos--that I had for her,

to start with para começar, antes de mais nada, a princípio, an infinite pity which had softened towards her my whole being, and had already mastered dominar merely apenas selfish desire. Out of

it fora disso I began to find excuses for her every act. In the doing so I knew now, though perhaps I did not at the time the process was going on, that my view in its true inwardness essência, natureza íntima was of her as a living woman--the woman I loved.

In the forming of our ideas there are different methods of work, as

though the analogy with material life holds good. In the building of a house, for instance, there are many persons employed; men of

different trades and occupations--architect, builder empreiteiro, masons pedreiro, carpenters, plumbers, and a host multidão of others--and all these with the officials of each guild corporação or trade. So in the world of thought and feelings: knowledge and understanding come through various agents,

each competent to its task.

How far pity reacted with love I knew not; I only knew that whatever

her state might be, were she living or dead, I could find in my heart

no blame for the Lady of the Shroud. It could not be that she was dead in the real conventional way; for, after all, the Dead do not walk the earth in corporal substance, even if there be spirits which take the corporal form. This woman was of actual form and weight.

How could I doubt that, at all events seja como for--I, who had held her in my

arms? Might it not be that she was not quite dead, and that it had

been given to me to restore her to life again? Ah! that would be,

indeed, a privilege well worth the giving my life to accomplish.

That such a thing may be is possible. Surely the old myths were not absolute inventions; they must have had a basis ponto de partida, fundamento, base somewhere in fact.

May not the world-old story of Orpheus and Eurydice have been based on some deep-lying principle or power of human nature? There is not one of us but has wished at some time to bring back the dead. Ay sim, and who has not felt that in himself or herself was power in the deep love for our dead to make them quick again, did we but know the secret of how it was to be done?

For myself, I have seen such mysteries that I am open to conviction

regarding things not yet explained. These have been, of course, amongst savages or those old-world people who have brought unchecked traditions and beliefs--ay sim, and powers too--down the ages from the dim obscuro, sombrio days when the world was young; when forces were elemental simples, and Nature's handiwork ofício manual was experimental rather than completed. Some of these wonders may have been older still than the accepted period of our own period of creation. May we not have to-day other wonders, different only in method, but not more susceptible of belief? Obiism feitiçaria and Fantee-ism have been exercised in my own presence, and their results proved by the evidence of my own eyes and other senses. So, too, have stranger rites, with the same object objectivo and the same success, in the far Pacific Islands. So, too, in India and China, in Thibet and in the Golden Chersonese. On all and each of these occasions

there was, on my own part, enough belief to set in motion the powers of understanding; and there were no moral scruples to stand in the way of realization. Those whose lives are so spent that they achieve the reputation of not fearing man or God or devil are not deterred desencorajar, deter in their doing or thwarted contrariar, frustrar from a set purpose by things which might deter others not so equipped for adventure. Whatever may be before them--pleasant or painful, bitter or sweet, arduous or facile,

enjoyable or terrible, humorous or full of awe profundo respeito and horror--they must

accept, taking them in the onward course as a good athlete takes hurdles obstáculo, barreira in his stride «passo grande ou largo». And there must be no hesitating, no looking back. If the explorer or the adventurer has scruples, he had better give up that special branch of effort and come himself to a more level walk in life. Neither must there be regrets. There is no need for such; savage life has this advantage: it begets gerar, criar, produzir a certain toleration not to be found in conventional existence.

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 2, 1907.

I had heard long ago that Second Sight is a terrible gift, even to its possessor. I am now inclined not only to believe, but to understand it. Aunt Janet has made such a practice of it of late

that I go in constant dread of discovery of my secret. She seems to parallel comparar, confrontar me all the time, whatever I may do. It is like a sort of dual existence to her; for she is her dear old self all the time, and yet some other person with a sort of intellectual kit of telescope and notebook, which are eternally used on me. I know they are FOR

me, too--for what she considers my good. But all the same mesmo assim it makes

an embarrassment. Happily Second Sight cannot speak as clearly as it sees, or, rather, as it understands. For the translation of the

vague beliefs which it inculcates is both nebulous and uncertain—a sort of Delphic oracle which always says things which no one can make out at the time, but which can be afterwards read in any one of several ways. This is all right, for in my case it is a kind of safety; but, then, Aunt Janet is a very clever woman, and some time she herself may be able to understand. Then she may begin to put two

and two together. When she does that, it will not be long before she knows more than I do of the facts of the whole affair. And her reading of them and of the Lady of the Shroud, round whom they circle, may not be the same as mine. Well, that will be all right too. Aunt Janet loves me--God knows I have good reason to know that all through these years--and whatever view she may take, her acts will be all I could wish. But I shall come in «entrar, chegar» for a good lot of scolding repreensão, censura, descompostura, I am sure. By the way, I ought to think of that; if Aunt Janet scolds me, it is a pretty good proof that I ought to be scolded. I wonder if I dare tell her all. No! It is too strange.

She is only a woman, after all: and if she knew I loved . . . I wish I knew her name, and thought--as I might myself do, only that I resist it--that she is not alive at all. Well, what she would either

think or do beats me. I suppose she would want to slipper me as she used to do when I was a wee kiddie--in a different way, of course.

May 3, 1907.

I really could not go on seriously last night. The idea of Aunt

Janet giving me a licking tareia, coça as in the dear old days made me laugh so much that nothing in the world seemed serious then. Oh, Aunt Janet is all right whatever comes. That I am sure of, so I needn't worry

over it. A good thing too; there will be plenty to worry about without that. I shall not check her telling me of her visions, however; I may learn something from them.

For the last four-and-twenty hours I have, whilst awake, been looking over dar uma vista de olhos a, examinar, inspeccionar Aunt Janet's books, of which I brought a wheen ?? down here. Gee

whizz! No wonder the old dear is superstitious, when she is filled up to the back teeth with that sort of stuff! There may be some truth in some of those yarns patranha, história inverosímil (fio de lã ou algodão); those who wrote them may believe in them, or some of them, at all events em todo o caso. But as to coherence or logic, or any sort of reasonable or instructive deduction, they might as

well have been written by so many hens galinha! These occult book-makers seem to gather only a lot of bare, bald vulgar, comum (calvo, careca) facts, which they put down in

the most uninteresting way possible. They go by quantity only. One story of the kind, well examined and with logical comments, would be more convincing to a third party than a whole hecatomb of them.

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 4, 1907.

There is evidently something up in the country. The mountaineers are

more uneasy than they have been as yet até agora. There is constant going to

and fro amongst them, mostly at night and in the grey of the morning.

I spend many hours in my room in the eastern tower, from which I can watch the woods, and gather from signs the passing to and fro. But with all this activity no one has said to me a word on the subject.

It is undoubtedly a disappointment to me. I had hoped that the mountaineers had come to trust me; that gathering at which they wanted to fire their guns for me gave me strong hopes. But now it is

apparent that they do not trust me in full--as yet, at all events em todo o caso.

Well, I must not complain. It is all only right and just. As yet I have done nothing to prove to them the love and devotion that I feel to the country. I know that such individuals as I have met trust me, and I believe like me. But the trust of a nation is different. That has to be won and tested; he who would win it must justify, and in a way that only troublous agitado, perturbado times can allow. No nation will--can—give full meed recompensa, galardão of honour to a stranger in times of peace. Why should it?

I must not forget that I am here a stranger in the land, and that to the great mass of people even my name is unknown. Perhaps they will

know me better when Rooke comes back with that store of arms and

ammunition that he has bought, and the little warship he has got from

South America. When they see that I hand over entregar, ceder the whole lot to the nation without a string on them, they may begin to believe. In the meantime all I can do is to wait. It will all come right in time, I have no doubt. And if it doesn't come right, well, we can only die

once!

Is that so? What about my Lady of the Shroud? I must not think of that or of her in this gallery. Love and war are separate, and may

not mix--cannot mix, if it comes to that. I must be wise in the matter; and if I have got the hump acontecer o pior in any degree whatever, must not show it.

But one thing is certain: something is up, and it must be the Turks.

From what the Vladika said at that meeting they have some intention

of an attack on the Blue Mountains. If that be so, we must be ready; and perhaps I can help there. The forces must be organized; we must have some method of communication. In this country, where are neither roads nor railways nor telegraphs, we must establish a signalling system of some sort. THAT I can begin at once. I can

make a code, or adapt one that I have used elsewhere already. I shall rig equipar up a semaphore semáforo on the top of the Castle which can be seen for an enormous distance around. I shall train a number of men to be

facile in signalling. And then, should need come, I may be able to show the mountaineers that I am fit to live in their hearts . . .

And all this work may prove an anodyne calmante, remédio to pain of another kind. It will help, at any rate pelo menos, ao menos, to keep my mind occupied whilst I am waiting for another visit from my Lady of the Shroud.

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 18, 1907.

The two weeks that have passed have been busy, and may, as time goes

on, prove eventful emocionante. I really think they have placed me in a different position with the Blue Mountaineers--certainly so far as até a those in this part of the country are concerned. They are no longer suspicious of me--which is much; though they have not yet received me into their confidence. I suppose this will come in time, but I must

not try to hustle apressar, forçar, acotovelar, empurrar them. Already they are willing, so far as I can see, to use me to their own ends. They accepted the signalling idea very readily, and are quite willing to drill exercitar-se, treinar, ensianr as much as I like. This can be (and I think is, in its way) a pleasure to them. They are

born soldiers, every man of them; and practice together is only a realization of their own wishes and a further development of their powers. I think I can understand the trend inclinação, tendência of their thoughts, and

what ideas of public policy lie behind them. In all that we have attempted together as yet they are themselves in absolute power. It rests with them to carry out any ideas I may suggest, so they do not fear any assumption of power or governance on my part. Thus, so long as they keep secret from me both their ideas of high policy and their immediate intentions, I am powerless to do them ill, and I MAY be of service should occasion arise. Well, all told, this is much.

Already they accept me as an individual, not merely one of the mass.

I am pretty sure that they are satisfied of my personal bona fides sincero, genuíno, de boa fé.

It is policy and not mistrust that hedges me in rodear, cercar, limitar, restringir. Well, policy is a matter of time. They are a splendid people, but if they knew a little more than they do they would understand that the wisest of all policies is trust--when it can be given. I must hold myself in

check, and never be betrayed into a harsh thought towards them. Poor

souls! with a thousand years behind them of Turkish aggression,

strenuously attempted by both force and fraud engano, fraude, no wonder they are

suspicious. Likewise também, igualmente every other nation with whom they have ever

come in contact--except one, my own--has deceived enganar, iludir or betrayed them.

Anyhow, they are fine soldiers, and before long we shall have an army that cannot be ignored. If I can get so that they trust me, I shall ask Sir Colin to come out here. He would be a splendid head for their army. His great military knowledge and tactical skill would come in well. It makes me glow to think of what an army he would

turn out of this splendid material, and one especially adapted for the style of fighting which would be necessary in this country.

If a mere amateur like myself, who has only had experience of organizing the wildest kind of savages, has been able to advance or

compact their individual style of fighting into systematic effort, a great soldier like MacKelpie will bring them to perfection as a fighting machine. Our Highlanders, when they come out, will foregather reunir-se, juntar-se with them, as mountaineers always do with each other.

Then we shall have a force which can hold its own against any odds.

I only hope that Rooke will be returning soon. I want to see those Ingis-Malbron rifles either safely stored in the Castle or, what is better, divided up amongst the mountaineers--a thing which will be done at the very earliest moment that I can accomplish it. I have a

conviction that when these men have received their arms and ammunition from me they will understand me better, and not keep any

secrets from me. All this fortnight quinzena, quinze dias when I was not drilling or going about amongst the mountaineers, and teaching them the code which I have now got perfected, I was exploring the side of the mountain nearest to here.

I could not bear to be still. It is torture to me to be idle in my present condition of mind regarding my Lady of the Shroud . . .

Strange I do not mind mentioning the word to myself now. I used to at first; but that bitterness has all gone away.

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 19, 1907.

I was so restless agitado, inquieto, desassossegado early this morning that before daylight I was out exploring on the mountain-side. By chance I came across a secret

place just as the day was breaking. Indeed, it was by the change of light as the first sun-rays seemed to fall down the mountain-side

that my attention was called to an opening shown by a light behind it. It was, indeed, a secret place--so secret that I thought at

first I should keep it to myself. In such a place as this either to hide in or to be able to prevent anyone else hiding in might on occasion be an asset vantagem, trunfo of safety.

When, however, I saw indications rather than traces that someone had

already used it to camp in, I changed my mind, and thought that whenever I should get an opportunity I would tell the Vladika of it,

as he is a man on whose discretion I can rely. If we ever have a war here or any sort of invasion, it is just such places that may be

dangerous. Even in my own case it is much too near the Castle to be neglected.

The indications were meagre escasso, insuficiente--only where a fire had been on a little shelf of rock; and it was not possible, through the results of burning vegetation or scorched grass, to tell how long before the fire had been alight. I could only guess. Perhaps the mountaineers

might be able to tell or even to guess better than I could. But I am not so sure of this. I am a mountaineer myself, and with larger and more varied experience than any of them. For myself, though I could not be certain, I came to the conclusion that whoever had used the place had done so not many days before. It could not have been quite recently; but it may not have been very long ago. Whoever had used it had covered up his tracks well. Even the ashes had been carefully removed, and the place where they had lain was cleaned or swept in some way, so that there was no trace on the spot. I applied some of my West African experience, and looked on the rough bark of the trees

to leeward lado protegido do vento, to where the agitated air, however directed, must have come, unless it was wanted to call attention to the place by the scattered wood-ashes, however fine. I found traces of it, but they

were faint. There had not been rain for several days; so the dust must have been blown there since the rain had fallen, for it was still dry.

The place was a tiny gorge, with but one entrance, which was hidden behind a barren árido, infrutífero spur pico, contraforte of rock--just a sort of long fissure, jagged and curving, in the rock, like a fault in the stratification. I could just struggle through it with considerable effort, holding my breath here and there, so as to reduce my depth of chest. Within it was tree-clad, and full of possibilities of concealment. As I came away I marked well its direction and approaches, noting any guiding mark which might aid in finding it by day or night. I explored every foot of ground around it--in front, on each side, and above. But from nowhere could I see an indication of its existence.

It was a veritable secret chamber wrought by the hand of Nature itself. I did not return home till I was familiar with every detail

near and around it. This new knowledge added distinctly to my sense

of security.

Later in the day I tried to find the Vladika or any mountaineer of importance, for I thought that such a hiding-place which had been used so recently might be dangerous, and especially at a time when,

as I had learned at the meeting where they did NOT fire their guns that there may have been spies about or a traitor in the land.

Even before I came to my own room to-night I had fully made up my mind to go out early in the morning and find some proper person to whom to impart the information, so that a watch might be kept on the place. It is now getting on for midnight, and when I have had my usual last look at the garden I shall turn in. Aunt Janet was uneasy all day, and especially so this evening. I think it must have been my absence at the usual breakfast-hour which got on her nerves; and that unsatisfied mental or psychical irritation increased as the day wore on.

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.

May 20, 1907.

The clock on the mantelpiece prateleira por cima do fogão in my room, which chimes tocar, bater as horas on the notes of the clock at St. James's Palace, was striking midnight when I opened the glass door on the terrace. I had put out my lights before I drew the curtain, as I wished to see the full effect of the moonlight.

Now that the rainy season is over, the moon is quite as beautiful as it was in the wet, and a great deal more comfortable. I was in

evening dress, with a smoking-jacket in lieu  of  em vez de a coat, and I felt the air mild ameno, temperado, brando, suave and mellow agradável, suave, brando, ameno on the warm side, as I stood on the terrace.

But even in that bright moonlight the further corners of the great garden were full of mysterious shadows. I peered into them as well as I could--and my eyes are pretty good naturally, and are well

trained. There was not the least movement. The air was as still as death, the foliage as still as though wrought in stone.

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