"No a word!"said he."Nae thanks;I want nae thanks.I do my duty.I'm no saying that everybody would have,done it;but for my part (though I'm a careful body,too)it's a pleasure to me to do the right by my brother's son;and it's a pleasure to me to think that now we'll agree as such near friends should."I spoke him in return as handsomely as I was able;but all the while I was wondering what would come next,and why he had parted with his precious guineas;for as to the reason he had given,a baby would have refused it.
Presently he looked towards me sideways.
"And see here,"says he,"tit for tat."
I told him I was ready to prove my gratitude in any reasonable degree,and then waited,looking for some monstrous demand.And yet,when at last he plucked up courage to speak,it was only to tell me (very properly,as I thought)that he was growing old and a little broken,and that he would expect me to help him with the house and the bit garden.
I answered,and expressed my readiness to serve.
"Well,"he said,"let's begin."He pulled out of his pocket a rusty key."There,"says he,"there's the key of the stair-tower at the far end of the house.Ye can only win into it from the outside,for that part of the house is no finished.Gang ye in there,and up the stairs,and bring me down the chest that's at the top.There's papers in't,"he added.
"Can I have a light,sir?"said I.
"Na,"said he,very cunningly."Nae lights in my house.""Very well,sir,"said I."Are the stairs good?""They're grand,"said he;and then,as I was going,"Keep to the wall,"he added;"there's nae bannisters.But the stairs are grand underfoot."Out I went into the night.The wind was still moaning in the distance,though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws.It had fallen blacker than ever;and I was glad to feel along the wall,till I came the length of the stairtower door at the far end of the unfinished wing.I had got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it,when all upon a sudden,without sound of wind or thunder,the whole sky lighted up with wild fire and went black again.I had to put my hand over my eyes to get back to the colour of the darkness;and indeed I was already half blinded when I stepped into the tower.
It was so dark inside,it seemed a body could scarce breathe;but I pushed out with foot and hand,and presently struck the wall with the one,and the lowermost round of the stair with the other.The wall,by the touch,was of fine hewn stone;the steps too,though somewhat steep and narrow,were of polished masonwork,and regular and solid underfoot.Minding my uncle's word about the bannisters,I kept close to the tower side,and felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart.
The house of Shaws stood some five full storeys high,not counting lofts.Well,as I advanced,it seemed to me the stair grew airier and a thought more lightsome;and I was wondering what might be the cause of this change,when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went.If I did not cry out,it was because fear had me by the throat;and if I did not fall,it was more by Heaven's mercy than my own strength.It was not only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the wall,so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold,but the same passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length,and that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the well.
This was the grand stair!I thought;and with the thought,a gust of a kind of angry courage came into my heart.My uncle had sent me here,certainly to run great risks,perhaps to die.I swore Iwould settle that "perhaps,"if I should break my neck for it;got me down upon my hands and knees;and as slowly as a snail,feeling before me every inch,and testing the solidity of every stone,I continued to ascend the stair.The darkness,by contrast with the flash,appeared to have redoubled;nor was that all,for my ears were now troubled and my mind confounded by a great stir of bats in the top part of the tower,and the foul beasts,flying downwards,sometimes beat about my face and body.