The Tithe at the Moorstone - Nigel Tourneur

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The tie that the more stone by Nigel Turner.

The boat was fastened and I clambered up the broken steps.

Their silence met me like a friend.

No sounds were to be heard, but measured lapping of water against the stone lined banks and the occasional cheap of a screech bat.

I gained the terrace.

Nowhere was a light visible. The range seemed filled with silence and darkness.

Slowly I winded up the long alley. The beldum that witch hagg weighed heavily upon my spirits and a loathsome fear possessed me.

In daytime I had brooded over her address and hell got lear, yet sunshine and fellowship of men and ripened wine had be clogged my apprehensions.

Now, walking betwixt the high dense hedges of box where no sound was, for the thick turf as velvet sunk my footsteps.

I was once more afraid.

Twice had she crossed me and two times had evil fortune befallen. The galleon captured my brother slain.

E.Gadman, what of old wives Prattle? Co-thy to myself.

Their gizzards are stuffed with ancient tales.

Tush, a fig for the hagg's rubbish. Did not Bab May last St. Agnes Eve tell her beads to my name?

And that even me too.

Nay, nay, her malignity cannot wanton on me.

But ever end an on as I paced up the silent, fragrant alley, her words fell back again and unwittingly I shuddered.

God what courage was a constant companion, yet a fright grew and overwrought me.

My Bilbo fastened in a blown branch and I stooped to release it.

A torturing scream broke shrilly upon my ears, an oath a scuffle, then silence.

And God's name what to do, I muttered and sped up to the terraced all.

It was bolted. This threw me all the back, for never before had it been so encountered.

Now I heard the West gates thrown open, creaking villainously upon their hinges, a clatter of horses hoofs,

then no noise. I ran swiftly round the terrace, leapt the small stream and hastening up the steep, stood upon the margin of the moor.

But darkness of night and softness of Virja had swallowed up both sight and sound.

I turned into the courtyard and hurried to the wicked gate by the ancient buttery.

It swung over to my touch, so speeding through the smaller hole I gained the great staircase.

At the first turn I tripped over a sprawling body, in a trice I was on it and at the throat.

It was a woman, with nervous hands I struck a light and beheld the countenance of her hand made.

Mistress Marion cried, I thickly. What has happened?

But she had been stunned by a heavy blow, which yet left a thick red welt upon her forehead,

so in haste to ascertain the safety of my beloved, I caught up the maid and rushed down the long corridor.

The door of Vile is room stood ajar.

I broke in clamoring her name, but there came no response. The chamber was empty.

I flung down the woman and with trembling hands lit the flamber by the tall mirror.

As the light filled the room I noticed full disorder on every side.

Vile a must have retired to rest, for her garments with many dainty frills and ravishments of white,

they flung aside, while the bedclothes were be tossed.

Hastily I threw water over the damsel's face and violently shook her.

Mistress Marion, I shouted loudly in her ear, where is my lady?

She opened her eyes, her lips moved, but I heard no sound.

Bending down I caught the low moan.

My lord, the tithe at the morstone, so jasper, and the goodly maid fell of faint again.

This is the devil's ploy, thought I.

Suddenly the heart sank within me.

Now I knew of a certain that an evil eye had been cast upon us.

Feet seemed rooted to the oaken floor, action was wanting in all my members.

I stood as a stucco doll.

Me seemed an age past and no sounds heard, but the sour of the wind through the blighted pines

and the dismal hoot of a ranging owl.

It was strange, fragrance of jasmine still lingered in the room,

as it was at even when last we sat in love sweet bower.

This perturbed my senses with dear recollections.

And as a loud struck dumb with fears indefinite, with bitter grief tearing at my heartstrings,

heedlessly I loitered.

Then recurred that bodeful wording.

Seeker by the morstone when no time is.

And cursing my tardiness I hastened from the chamber.

As I fled along the dark re-echoing corridors, a mighty blast of wind draven to the house,

swirling and screeching through the many passages, then fell a great silence all around.

And my heart patted exceedingly within me, for eye on this night did evil fortune before.

From one a bay would be raft, now to be seen again.

From another a fair virgin would be ravished, to be discovered next mourn lying afield, babbling and disfigured.

Often times a wedded wench would be lifted from beside her slumbering bridegroom,

and next mourn at the waking hour a dead corpse chilled his living blood.

All this crushed into my head as unwitting of the way I traversed the outer hole.

Its porch stood open, and I marveled there at.

Neither in my life nor in my fathers had this been.

For time had so rusted and encrusted the eye on brattest halls of the great door,

that nigh a scarsome of strong men could scarce accomplish the opening thereof.

But now it gaped to the thickening darkness.

I gained the heath, all was still.

Behind me lay the range buried in the gathering night, beyond the more stone.

I plunged impetuously forward, scudding up the rising grounds like a lever it before pursued.

Now arose all my grandam had told.

This was the eve of witchery's highest revelry, the 30th of April.

A great offering was brought this night to the more stone.

Around half stones at even tide, it was whispered the evil one himself came and feasted.

But no mortal had ever seen and told.

Had not my father been found two score years ago on the 1st of May,

lying in deathly stupor night to the more stone.

His body naked and livid, with impressed of great talent fingers all over,

and never again had his voice greeted the ear.

My eager feet sank in a bog, and totally I set them down again,

lest I be pitted and drawn in by the quickening mirace.

There was no noise but this whistle of reeds against my body as I bent on.

Now and again a more hen or water rat was startled, and I heard it scuttle from me.

Ever and a non-illusive lights shimmered out in the distance,

to tell of mortals lured to destruction by malicious goblins,

and I gathered in my mind how that travellers crossing between merc and morning had been lost,

luckless whites snurred into deptless morasses.

I broke out into a speedier pace and prayed the saints for a stout heart.

Happily stumbling into a narrow, westerly track,

I gained courage with firm ground beneath me.

My God, I groaned, to think of my love in their hellish tricks.

The blood thickened at that very thought.

As I spared up to the waste land, my brain pieced together the case,

the heart was with my mistress.

Yester even, as she lay in my arms, a cold shiver chilled her gentle frame,

and breath failed for the space of a lamb's bleat.

As life pulsed back, she clung her tender soft body to mine,

and knew the quickening beat of her heart was felt,

and sweet caresses calmed the terrified spirit.

She wished not the cause, but subtle love caught upon the reason.

An evil eye had rested upon her, and thrulled.

I, and Byser Jasper had it been cast.

May God smother him in his own slime.

I muttered thickly, and sped the faster onwards.

At last the dreary highlands were reached.

No knowledge had I whereby to gain the centre,

where lay the moorstone within the circle of stone pillars,

gathered by heavenish hands.

I was all uncertain of it.

Neither moon nor stars broke the sullen darkness.

No stir was in the air.

All in a clap, out of the blackness to my right,

came a shrill cry of, help, help.

Then the silence was broken by shrieks of a tortured being born far into the night.

They beat upon my ear full of a dread terror,

and I stood rooted to the spot.

Suddenly the air rang with a faint echo of, Geoffrey, Geoffrey.

The vague sound died away, and I heard not but the pit-pat of my bosom.

Now a harsh, hurtling noise passed overhead,

an echo of discordant laughter and gibberish talk,

even now where the devilish gang are loose.

Already some luckless white had they fastened upon, and done to death.

For this hellish brood was my mistress to be sacrificed.

A mighty roth flowed up within me, and I pressed on fiercely.

Hell's dawn broke red behind a ridge.

Some small deer drove rapidly past me.

My limbs slackened as tumourously I clambered up,

muttering a paternoster the top was reached.

The sight therefrom terrified me, by reason of fear my body shook.

Before the druid's circle, wherein lay the stone,

sat a horrid being of evil growth, possessing the voice of man.

Around him red columns of fire belched forth,

be clouding the air with hell's vapors.

Far back, until enveloped with the mists of night,

grinned myriads of babbering skulls,

ancient witches and wizards, again to renew the past.

On a sudden the earth trembled, and I fell quaking upon the salts,

me things I had lain there in stupor a goodly time,

as, when breath crept back, the space before me was covered

with crawling, flickering flames, and numberless voices filled the air

with horse revelry.

My heart gave a great bound, but the blood clotted within its runs,

for bound to the more stone lay viola.

I sank on the turf, driven with unutterable agony.

No prayer issued from trembling lips.

Indeed my head was blank.

Then thoughts slowly shaped themselves.

Tradition hath it, that every vulpurgous eve,

the evil one demands the pure soul of maidenhood,

thereafter to woo it to destruction.

So Sir Jasper, maddened at my felicity,

had outrun all humanity of God and man.

His basement lignity roused my beclotted blood,

and I cursed him.

Nay, I could but die beside her, and bulk his devilish intent,

and I started up.

But I was born upon the grass by an overmastering hand,

that, stiffening all flesh, turned my body into stone.

I lay prostrate, speechless, and mightily afraid.

Verily man is but a beast of the fields,

when the spirits of evil and of darkness do stalk abroad.

A voice sounded from among the crawling flames,

as it receded from the circling witchery and drew nigh unto the evil one.

It died away into a long drawn sob.

The person of a male appeared amongst the many, wavering fires,

with bowed head and low crouching body he adored,

then with indistinct voice he profored the offering.

Great clouds of smoke gathered above as a roof,

all sound died away into a deadened silence.

And human utterance issued from the pillar of fire,

that slowly filling the circle enrapt the evil growth.

It is good, it said, and the soul of the maid is without stain.

Yet their upspaker voice in reverent accents,

Almighty Master, we cast a spell upon her,

for she cried on her lover to save.

So the bane was recalled, yet the recumbent figure lay motionless.

Fourth with there arose a mighty clamoring of many tongues crying,

and a mortal is with us.

The hush unhallowed outcry filled the air,

and curling flames shooting out their long tongues,

sprang upon me from the surface of the earth.

My breath hardened, my pulse throbbed not,

me seemed I was and was not.

Scant knowledge had I that hell's crowd surged upon me,

and surged back again, baffled.

Again they thronged around, endeavouring to devour me,

but I was unharmed.

Hidious forms filled the air,

griffens with hurtling wings and monstrous faces swarmed above,

darkening the dim light,

huge embodiments of winged snakes swirled up,

and spitting at me,

raged impotently with hellish spleen.

Suddenly, like a base chimera,

the unholy crew went,

not before me but the lured round of flame,

and the motionless body of my love.

Yet on all sides great bodied creatures,

mingling with gigantic, wavering shadows,

noiselessly masked themselves in the heavens above,

and upon the face of the sleeping lands.

A far and surrounding,

the forces of hell were arranging.

My heart went from me,

I lay heaped upon the ground.

Now the blast of a mighty hurricane wind was to be heard,

then speeding nearer and nearer.

Many things tossed by me.

Yay, the evil one would snatch at me as that fissled downborn

on the gusty breeze.

A speck of gold flashed in the red gloomed air,

another and another,

then a multitude of small birds with golden plumage,

and whiteened breasts,

broke over the body of my love,

settling their own,

until she was a mass of wavering gold.

The wind caught me.

The grim countenance of night blanched before the uncoming mourn,

grey dawn peered upon the mist-swaived hills.

I awoke,

starting to my feet I gazed with surprise at my strange bed-quarters,

it was you stored to fall asleep upon the moor.

Suddenly the wild fantasy of midnight clappered upon my brain,

and I shivered at mere thought of it.

A scurrying breeze tore us under the seething rack

in a hollow at my feet,

between the potting shreds was revealed a body upon the moorstone.

I attained the spot with frantic speed,

catching hold of the massive slabs I drew up my cramped figure.

Before my eyes lay viala,

and upon her swarthy trusses floated one small golden plume.

Through the monstrous enactment of evil,

God had preserved her in the hollow of his hand.

While purgous eve, 1896,

end of the tie that the moorstone by Nigel Turner.

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