The Heart

But this much I will say, that, as I was riding along, cogitating

something deeply in my mind as to the best disposal of the powder

and the shot which Mary Cavendish had ordered from England, I,

coming abreast of Margery Key's house, saw of a sudden a white cat,

which many affirmed to be her familiar, spring from her door like a

white arrow of speed and off down a wood-path, and my horse reared

and plunged, and then, with my holding him of no avail, though I had

a strong hand on the bridle, was after her with such a mad flight

that I had hard work to keep the saddle. Pell-mell through the wood

we went, I ducking my head before the mad lash of the branches and

feeling the dew therefrom in my face like a drive of rain, until we

came to a cleared space, then a great spread of tobacco fields,

overlapping silver-white in the moonlight, and hamlet of negro

cabins, and then Major Robert Beverly's house, standing a mass of

shadow except for one moonlit wall, for all the family were gone to

the governor's ball. Then, as I live, that white cat of Margery

Key's led me in that mad chase around Beverly's house, and when I

came to the north side of it I saw a candle gleam in a window and

heard a baby's wail, and knew 'twas where his infant daughter was

tended, and as we swept past out thrust a black head from the

window, and a screech as savage as any wild cat's rent the peace of

the night, and I believe that the child's black nurse took us, no

doubt, for the devil himself. Then all the dogs howled and bayed,

though not one approached us, and a great bat came fanning past,

like a winged shadow, and again I heard the owl's hoot, and ever

before us, like a white arrow, fled that white cat, and my horse

followed in spite of me. Then, verily I speak the truth, though it

may well be questioned, did that white cat lead us straight to the

tomb which Major Beverly had made upon his plantation at the death

of his first wife, and in which she lay, and 'twas on a rising above

the creek, and then the cat, with a wail which was like nothing I

ever heard in this world, was away in a straight line toward the

silver gleam of the creek, though every one knows well how cats hate

water, and had disappeared. But, though to this I will not swear, I

thought I saw a white gleam aloft, and heard a wail of a cat skyward

along with the owl-hoots. And then my horse stood and trembled in

such wise that I thought he would fall under me, and I dismounted

and stroked his head and tried as best I could to soothe him, and we

were all the time before the tomb, which was a large one. Then of a

sudden it came to me that here was the hiding-place for the powder

and shot, for what safer hiding-place can there be than the tomb of

the first wife, when the second hath reigned but a short time, and

is fair, and hath but just given her lord that little darling whose

cries of appealing helplessness I could hear even there? So I gave

the tomb-door a pull, knowing that I should not, by so doing,

disturb the slumbers of the poor lady within, and decided with

myself that it would be easy enough to force it, and mounted and

rode back as best I might to the road. And when I came to the little

dwelling of Margery Key a thought struck me, and I rode close,

though my horse shuddered as if with some strange fright of

something which I could not see. I bent in my saddle and looked in

the door, but naught could I see. Then I dismounted and tied my

horse to a tree near by, and entered the house and looked about the

sorry place as well as I could in the pale sift of moonlight,

and--the old woman was not there. But one room there was, with a

poor pallet in a corner and a chest against the wall and a stool,

and a kettle in the fireplace, with a little pile of sticks and a

great scattering of ashes, but no one there, and also, if I may be

believed, no broom. All this I tell for what it may be worth to

the credulity of them who hear; the facts be such as I have said.

But whether believing it myself or not, yet knowing that that white

cat, though it had been Margery Key in such guise, or her familiar

imp on his way to join her at some revel whither she had ridden her

broom, had done me good service, and, seeing the piteous smallness

of the pile of sticks on the hearth, and reflecting upon the

distressful bend of the old soul's back, whether she had sold

herself to Satan or not, I lingered a minute to break down a goodly

armful of brush in the wood outside and carry inside for the

replenishment of her store. And as I came forth, having done so, I

heard the door of the nearby house open, and saw two white faces

peering out at me, and heard a woman's voice shriek shrilly that

here was the devil seeking the witch, and though I called out to

reassure them, the door clapped to with a bang like a pistol-shot,

and my horse danced about so that I could scarcely mount. Then I

rode away, something wondering within myself, since I had been taken

for the devil, how many others might have been, and whether men made

their own devils and their own witches, instead of the Prince of

Evil having a hand in it, and yet that happened which I have

related, and I have told the truth.