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 Witches Of Brimstone Bay Cozy
Mysteries:
Books 1-3
Extended Sample

R.K. DREAMING

Copyright © 2019 by .R.K. Dreaming

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, transmitted or distributed in any form or by any means
without the prior written permission of the author. The people,
places and situations in this book are products of the author’s
imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.
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 BOOK 1: WITCH IN CHARM’S WAY
By R.K. Dreaming

Solving crime one ghost at a time.

The worst kind of disaster strikes and witch Esme Westbrim flees
in the dead of night to her magical hometown of Brimstone Bay with
a terrible secret. The ramshackle old castle left to her by a great-
aunt is the perfect hideout for a desperate witch, until a dead body
turns up on her doorstep.
Things get worse when ridiculously handsome investigating
Agent Chris Constantine puts Esme on his suspect’s list. Esme must
put her amateur sleuthing skills to the test and prove her innocence
before Agent Constantine takes too close a look at her, even if that
means putting herself in harm’s way. Because Esme has a secret
worse than murder.
Hilarity and heartache follow when a moody psychic cat, a
busybody old ghost aunt, the troubled spirit of the victim, and
Esme’s three wild witch cousins burst in on her life. Will Esme catch
the killer, or will her loved ones run for cover when they find out
what Esme is hiding?
Note to readers: This book takes place in England and is
written in British English.
 1. Homeward Bound

Running away was not something that I, Esme Westbrim, of the

famous witching family of Westbrims, had ever planned to do.
My phone beeped. I opened up the text message to take a look.
It said, Where are you?
I stared at it in shock for a moment. Then I hit delete and put
the phone back in my pocket.
I felt hunted. Paranoia, I told myself.
It was past midnight. The lights above blinked on and off as the
train juddered onwards through the night, making my empty
carriage feel more than a little eerie.
“You’re the scariest thing in here, Esme,” I muttered to myself.
And then gave a little snort of laughter. I didn’t feel like it.
I could move into another carriage where the lights worked, but
it might not be empty, and it was better for me to be alone right
now.
When the train shuddered to a halt, I looked out of the window,
straining to see into the darkness. It was pitch black out there. Why
couldn’t they put lights over the name-signs in English countryside
train stations?
I squinted harder and was glad to have to strain. I couldn’t see in
the dark yet. That was good. Maybe it meant that the malady that
had made its way into my bloodstream really was being held at bay
by my magic.
By the faint glow of a distant street lamp, I caught a glimpse of a
sign with the station name on. It told me the train had reached the
penultimate stop in my journey. I gave a sigh of relief. Just one more
stop to get home.
I buttoned up my coat and readjusted my knitted scarf tightly
around my throat and the lower half of my face. I was cold. All week
I had been cold. It felt like the chill was radiating from my insides
out.
But soon I’d be safely tucked away in my bed at Mansion House
with a mug of hot cocoa in my hands and a log fire roaring
somewhere nearby. There was nothing I wanted more in the world
right now.
Thank goodness for my Great Aunt Adele, who had left me
Mansion House in her will. Somewhere to hide away and think, and
figure out what to do next, before anyone found out what had
happened to me. And before my family found out that I had come
home.
Home to Brimstone Bay where I had once said I would never
return to live again. Bewitching Brimstone Bay as the local tourist
office liked to call it.
The train’s engine died unexpectedly. Everything went quiet. All I
could hear was my own jittering legs. The occasional hooting of an
owl came from the otherwise great big silence outside. I didn’t like
it.
“Come on, train. Let’s get going,” I muttered.
The longer we sat here, the greater the chance someone might
come into my carriage.
My phone beeped. Unable to resist it, I opened up the text
message.
It said, Don’t ignore me. Where are you?
I glared at it and hit delete again.
But my anger was mixed in with hurt. I was trembling. What they
had done to me was the ultimate betrayal. Tears came to my eyes
and I wiped them away.
Just think about happiness and it will be so, Granny Selma used
to say. But the happiness magic had never worked for me.
The train had been halted for what felt like a very long time. I
glanced out of the window anxiously. I was relieved when the
engines suddenly rumbled back to life.
Just as the train was about to depart, a dark figure dashed past
my window, yelling, “Wait just one minute!”
 The figure slammed into the doors of my carriage with a great
thump.
The doors swooshed open, admitting a blast of frigid air that
made me grateful for my over-large droopy beret and great big
bundle of a scarf.
As a man entered the carriage, I pulled my beret down lower
over my face. I had a pair of big sunglasses inside my handbag. I
would have put them on if I wasn’t worried they would make me
look even more conspicuous than I already felt.
I waited for the man to go and sit on the opposite side of the
carriage to me. This was what strangers in London would do, never
wanting to be too close to each other if there was an alternative
option.
The guy was big and hulking. He was a dishevelled looking sort
with a bushy, overgrown beard and a brownish stain all down the
front of his hooded jacket. He came to plonk himself down right near
me.
I was immediately on edge. Couldn’t he tell just by looking at me
with my face all covered up and my purposefully hunched up body
language that I didn’t want him anywhere near me? How rude!
The train started up again, chugging resolutely towards
Brimstone Bay. At least it was just one stop.
My phone beeped again. I couldn’t stop myself from reading it.
What’s happened has happened, said the message. Can we talk
about it?
I stared in disbelief. Not even an apology! The nerve of it!
The message was from my best friend Sarah. Or former best
friend after tonight. Because there were some things that you could
never forgive, and if you did that just made you an idiot. And I was
tired of being an idiot.
Earlier tonight, after a whole week of terrible sickness, I had
dragged myself out of bed and gone to Sarah’s house, desperate for
someone to talk to. I knew I couldn’t talk about the awful thing that
had happened to me, which in itself was against magical law, but I
had at least been hoping for a good old natter to put me back in a
hopeful mood.
 I had arrived to find my husband Drew’s car outside Sarah’s
house. To my surprise the front door had been ajar. Feeling
concerned for Sarah, I had gone in and had seen something that I
wished my eyes had never had to see.
Flaffiness Is Happiness was my family motto, and in that moment
the last traces of happiness I’d had left in my rather limp balloon of
the stuff had made a rude farting noise and floated away.
If Sarah thought I was going to reply to her message, she had
another think coming. She had probably only messaged me because
Drew had told her to. He no doubt wanted to know where I was in
case I was going to barge in on his sordid business again. It made
me grind my teeth.
I angrily typed out a message. I never want to talk to you again.
You can have him for all I care.
I wanted to add a curse word or two, but I knew I would regret
it, so I hit send before I could change my mind.
It only took a few moments for the phone to beep again.
Don’t say I didn’t try. And for your information, I already have
him.
I ground my teeth and let out a quiet scream of rage. Then I
shut up because I remembered I was no longer alone in the
carriage. How mortifying.
The stranger was now looking at me. His shifty eyes considered
me the way a dog might eye up a rabbit to see if it was worth
chasing. I looked away, out of the window, into the darkness, hiding
my face from him.
I could picture the two of them together even now. I’d bet the
last tenner in my purse that Sarah would waste no time at all
moving into the very nice Knightsbridge apartment that I had shared
with Drew. They were probably there already.
There together, while I was alone in a rattling old train carriage
with just one backpack hastily crammed full of a measly change of
clothes and several big bottles of precious sunblock.
I shifted uncomfortably. I could feel the stranger’s eyes were still
on me. It felt menacing. I had nothing to defend myself with. Unless
I squirted the sunblock on him. Take that, you hulking beast!
 I took another quick peek at him. It was all I needed to confirm
my original suspicion. The guy was a werewolf.
Growing up without much magic in an entirely magical and
paranormal community, I had learned a few things my peers hadn’t
needed to bother with. Like being more attuned to the subtle signs
that gave away what sort of eldritch being somebody was.
It was something in the way that people carried themselves, or
the look in their eyes, or the way that they spoke, or chose to dress
themselves. It all combined to tell me whether someone was a
werewolf or an incubus or a succubus or angelus or any one of the
other supernatural beings who lived in Brimstone Bay. Unless they
were trying to hide it.
This guy was not. And by the way he was fidgeting and shuffling
and kept rubbing his face, he was off his head on something too.
I had kept up with witching news for the sake of safety in a big
city where a large number of magical and eldritch folk I did not
know were hidden in plain sight. Just the other day I’d read in The
Daily Oracle about a new dangerous magical stimulant that was
doing the rounds. It would be just my luck if this werewolf was
taking it.
My phone beeped again. With gritted teeth, I opened up the
message. My patience was gone. I was going to say something
really mean to Sarah.
Except it wasn’t from Sarah. It was from my cousin Allegra. Biting
my lip, I read it.
Enough is enough. We are all coming to see you with Feverfew
potion. You better open your door or we are coming straight in.
Brace for impact!
I felt a wave of panic.
By ‘all’ she meant her and her two sisters, Viviana and Flaffy.
They were going to etherhop to London to rescue me.
Due to being so ill this past week, I had skipped my usual weekly
coffee date with Allegra and been terrible at replying to her texts. In
the end I’d been forced to admit to her that I’d had a fever.
Now all three of them were coming to London and they were
going to find me missing. It was going to ruin my plan to quietly
hide out.
Please don’t, I’m fine, I quickly typed out.
Then I deleted it. It wasn’t going to be enough. She probably
thought I was on my death bed or something. Which wasn’t far off
the truth.
Keeping one eye on the werewolf, I called her instead.
She answered immediately, saying, “Finally! Are you alive or
not?”
I laughed. “Yes, I’m alive.”
“Oh good!” she sounded relieved. “What was it? Why didn’t you
let me drop off some potion earlier in the week? Why did you have
to suffer like a Humble?”
“You know me. I just want to be alone when I’m sick.”
“But this me we are talking about,” she said, sounding offended.
“Or is it that you thought I’d cramp your honeymoon-first-sickness-
lovely-dovey-new-hubby-nursing-you-better style?” She made a
gagging noise.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Something like that,” I lied.
I hated lying to Allegra.
“Where are you?” she said, suddenly sounding suspicious.
I was paranoid she’d somehow heard the train in the
background. It would be just my luck if the conductor chose this
moment to make an announcement.
“Actually, Allegra, I have to go,” I said quickly. “Don’t come
around. I’m much better and we’re a bit busy. But I promise to call
you later, okay? Bye.”
“Later when?” she demanded, but I pretended not to hear and
hung up.
I hoped I done enough to stave her off for a day or so. Later I
would have to think of a good enough reason to explain my odd
behaviour.
A sudden noise made me look up.
The werewolf had gotten sick of sitting down. He had bounced to
his feet, and was pacing up and down the central aisle of the
carriage, stomping harder than necessary. There was an aggressive
touch to it.
And he kept looking at me.
Finally he said, “Alright love?” and came to sit in the seat
opposite me.
I tensed up. The guy was trouble. What did he want? Money? I
couldn’t afford to give him the last bit of money in my purse, and
even if I could have, I refused to be intimidated into doing so.
His shifty eyes scanned my face as if sizing me up.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” he said, scratching his nose.
I didn’t reply. It was best not to be confrontational. Perhaps my
stoic silence would discourage him.
He leaned closer and seemed to enjoy it when I shifted away. He
gave me a sickly leer.
If only I’d still had my pink hair to scare him off with. I had been
born it, a throwback to my family’s Magicwild heritage, and a sign to
those in the know that I was a powerful witch. Supposedly. But in
the Humble world it’d had the opposite effect of making people think
I was ditzy. Drew had never liked it. I had dyed it brown a long time
ago.
No pink hair, plus all the signs I’d been living in the Humble world
for too long. Now this werewolf thought I was going to be easy
pickings.
“Bit late for you to be out all alone, isn’t it?” he said.
He had taken my silence as weakness.
I glared at him. “I’m fine thanks.”
“Yeah, you look fine.” He looked me up and down. Then he
looked at my handbag.
Darn it! Was he planning to mug me?
I was sick of running away. I wanted to glare at him until he
backed down. But what if he did not?
It wouldn’t be long until the train reached Brimstone Bay station.
But at this time of night, no one would be around. What if he
decided to follow me to where he could corner me?
I had a long walk ahead of me to get to Mansion House. I
couldn’t call for a taxi. My Uncle Radaghast ran the local taxi service,
and he was the last person that I wanted to know about my coming
home.
“Excuse me,” I said to the werewolf.
I stood up abruptly and grabbed my backpack.
He stood up too. Very quickly. He was blocking my way with his
body.
When it looked like he might try to stop me, I gave him a small
smile that I hoped had more confidence in it than I felt. I took my
wand out of my pocket and pointed it at him.
“Say hello to my little friend.”
The werewolf blanched and took a couple of quick steps
backward.
“That’s right,” I said. “Keep walking.”
He did, but only halfway down the carriage, from where he stood
and glowered at me.
Dammit. He knew something was up.
An angry witch would have done something to him by now. Like
singed that stupid beard off his face to teach him a lesson. But I
didn’t dare attempt to use my magic, and he was eyeing me up as if
he was fast reaching this conclusion.
“And stay there,” I said in what I hoped sounded like a voice full
of contempt, like one particular mean girl I had gone to school with.
Witches and wizards were top of the pecking order in Brimstone
Bay, and living so close by, this werewolf would know to be wary of
a certain type of witch.
Giving a snort of disgust, as if I couldn’t bear to be in the same
carriage as him, I opened up the interconnecting door that led into
the next carriage.
Only after stepping through it and shutting it firmly behind me
did I let out a sigh of relief.
“Stupid tweeking werewolf,” I muttered to myself, thinking there
was no one within earshot.
And then I gave a little cry of shock.
This carriage was not empty like I had thought. A man was
sitting very still and quietly in a seat nearby.
A man who was very different from the werewolf.
 This guy was dressed neatly in pressed tan trousers and a jacket
that fit all too attractively over his broad shoulders. Even his trim
beard was neat. I didn’t usually like men with facial hair, but there
was something undeniably appealing about this one. He looked
vaguely familiar.
I gave him an apologetic glance, hoping that he had not heard
what I’d said. He looked like a Humble, a non-magical human, and if
he had heard me muttering about werewolves he would definitely
think that I was off my rocker.
But clearly he didn’t give two hoots about whether I was sane or
not. He had not even spared me a glance.
Frowning, I did the civil thing and marched past him towards the
opposite end of the carriage to give him his space.
From the corner of my eyes I saw him stand up. I glanced
backwards just in time to see him put his hand on the door that I
had just come in by. Clearly he meant to go through it.
Maybe he had heard me after all and had no intention of sitting
in a carriage with a batty woman.
And now he was going into the carriage with the werewolf in it!
“No don’t,” I said quickly.
He turned to look at me, his brow furrowing.
I hurried towards him, intending to physically get in his way if I
had to.
I had made the werewolf angry by pointing my wand at him, and
I couldn’t let this poor Humble take the brunt of the werewolf’s rage.
Werewolves were much stronger than Humbles. I wouldn’t put it
past the werewolf to pick a fight with him.
I gave the Humble man a smile, intending to put him at ease.
This did not have the effect I wanted since my scarf was covering up
my face. So I pulled it down just a little and tried again.
The man did not smile back.
“You don’t want to go in there,” I said. “There’s a guy in the
other carriage who—”
I stopped speaking abruptly. I had just realised why he looked
familiar.
It was Chris Constantine!
 The Chris Constantine himself. That light brown hair, those blue
eyes with a hint of green, six feet tall. His beard had confused me,
but it was definitely him — the hunky Hollywood actor who played
Captain Shield, America’s favourite superhero.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out.
He gave me a tense smile as if he was tired of being asked this
question.
“Did you want something, madam?” he said coolly.
“Er, well, I just... Er...”
Dammit! I was blithering like a fool and clearly he thought so too
by the look on his face.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “I was just going to say you
don’t want to go in there. There’s a guy in there who is off his head.
A very unpleasant sort.”
He shrugged. “I think I can handle it,” he said.
I glared at him. The arrogant fool.
“I doubt it,” I said, unable to keep the snap from my voice.
Just then the train jerked to a stop. I nearly fell into him. I
grabbed a seatback to catch myself just in time.
We had arrived at Brimstone Bay Station. I was immensely
relieved. Now we could all get off the train and it would be fine.
But to my annoyance, Chris Constantine turned his back to me
and opened the door to the next carriage.
“What are you doing?” I said in irritation, reaching out to grab his
arm.
“Let go,” he snapped.
But instead of doing so, I held on harder, determined to stop him
and give the werewolf a chance to leave first.
A look of disbelief came onto Chris Constantine’s face, but I
didn’t care. He would never know what I had saved him from, but I
would.
He tried to yank his arm away, but I threw myself onto him and
wrapped both of my arms around his waist.
“Get off me!” he said urgently.
I held on, and started laughing.
I couldn’t help it. I was forcibly hugging Chris Constantine.
 How Allegra would laugh, if only I could tell her about it. And Viv
and Flaffy would be green with envy.
He struggled to throw me off, and I enjoyed the brief tussle a bit
more than was necessary. I was saving him, even if he didn’t realise
it.
I looked past him to see where the werewolf was, and was
astonished. The werewolf was staring at the both of us, his eyes
wide with fright.
And then he turned and ran out of the train as if his tail was on
fire.
Laughing harder, I let go of Chris Constantine.
“Sorry about that,” I said between chuckles. “I was doing you a
favour.”
Chris Constantine glared at me. “You stupid woman!” he growled.
“You’ve let him get away!”
 2. The Body In The Garden

Stupid woman indeed! Just who did he think he was?

I slammed the door of the taxi shut behind me and fumbled in
my purse for some money. To my annoyance the driver had stopped
all the way at the end of the long driveway, refusing to go close to
Mansion House itself at this time of night.
Mr High And Mighty Chris Constantine had insisted on calling the
taxi for me and had absolutely refused to let me walk home in the
night by myself. And now I was handing over a precious couple of
banknotes that I would have much preferred to spend on groceries.
It actually physically hurt to part with the cash. The coins that
the taxi driver handed over as change were fewer than they should
have been. Prices had certainly gone up in Brimstone Bay now that it
was a tourist mecca.
The driver did not leave.
“You got no luggage?” he said.
“I won’t be staying long,” I said shortly.
“Mansion House, ey?” he said, looking up with more than a little
appreciation at the ramshackle old home that Aunt Adele had left to
me. “Doesn’t look like a house to me!”
He was stating the obvious. Mansion House was a castle.
Hundreds of years ago it had been called Brimstone Castle.
The reason for its name change was a long story that involved
my own ancestors and the ancestors of the Hardwick witching
family, who were our mortal enemies for many reasons.
Mansion House wasn’t a huge castle and it might be falling apart,
but it was still a castle.
The driver whistled. “I wouldn’t mind owning that,” he said with a
grin. “Wouldn’t want to live in it, mind. But it would fetch a pretty
penny the way prices are rocketing in Brimstone these days.”
 “Haven’t you heard of its history?” I said. “You can’t sell the
place. The ghosts in the Black Tower would never allow it.”
He shuddered and glanced nervously up towards the charred old
tower, the tallest one in the castle, as if worried the ghosts might
have heard him.
I’d only mentioned the ghosts because the driver was a local.
The grey tinge of his skin was a dead giveaway that he was finfolk.
Perhaps the fact it was too dark to see the tower at this time of
night made him feel braver. Either that or that he felt he was a
sufficient distance away to be safe.
He chortled. “But they wouldn’t be haunting me, would they?” he
said. “It’d be the new owners’ problem, not mine.”
I scowled at him. I didn’t bother to explain that old magic
prevented the castle from falling into the hands of anyone except
those considered to be its rightful owners.
And right now, that happened to be me. Because the previous
owner, Great Aunt Adele, had said so. Though why she had picked
me I could not imagine. I had never met her. Not once.
I pocketed my change and nodded at the driver in farewell,
expecting him to drive off.
Instead he stayed there, smiling at me. “You a Hardwick?” he
said curiously.
“No,” I said shortly.
He would have never asked me that if he knew I was a
Westbrim. It was insulting. Everyone in town knew the Westbrims
and Hardwicks were sworn enemies.
It was a good job I had dyed my pink hair to brown or he would
have recognised me for sure. I was the only Westbrim with pink hair.
The only one in all of Brimstone Bay with Magicwild pink hair, in fact.
Even so, I kept my scarf up over my face in case he recognised
me. I had been gone so long that I didn’t know who he was, but
that didn’t mean he wouldn’t know who I was. People in small towns
had long memories.
“A property agent then?” he said. “You going to sell the place?”
“Something like that,” I said vaguely.
 I had no intention of telling him who I really was. I was supposed
to be hiding out, and the last thing I wanted was for this guy’s
gossip to get back to my uncle. All of the taxi drivers around here
worked for Uncle Radaghast, or they had back when I had left.
And Uncle Ghastly would tell Granny Selma, our family matriarch,
that I was back, and then I would be in for it.
“You drive safely now,” I said to him shortly and turned away.
Perhaps he sensed my dread as I trudged towards the tall iron
gate.
He called after me, “You sure you don’t want me to take you to a
hotel instead? There’s plenty in this town. It’s the off season. I can
find you a cheap one.”
Not cheap enough for me. A hotel would clear out my funds in
one fell swoop. Darn that Drew. How could I have been so stupid as
to trust him so much?
“I’m fine,” I threw over my shoulder.
I hunted through my bag to find the big bunch of old keys that
had been sent to me and took my time about it. I didn’t want him to
watch me trudge slowly up the driveway towards the castle main
door. I did not want him to see me going in.
I suppose I was still a bit worried the castle might sense what I’d
become and reject me. I didn’t need him to witness that.
He seemed to get the hint and started up the engine again.
“You’ve got my card if you change your mind,” he called cheerily as
he drove off.
I would not. If the castle rejected me I’d be sleeping out here in
the November cold.
It was either that or slink home in defeat to Willow Manor, our
ancestral family home, where there was more than enough room for
me. But I wouldn’t go there. Not even if chased by feral vampires.
Mum would be glad to see me. So would Allegra, Viv and Flaffy,
and probably my two aunts. Granny Selma and the other half of my
cousins and my uncles would not. And I hadn’t a clue about Great
Aunt Tabby.
I could just imagine Granny Selma frowning at me as if I had
confirmed her theory that I was a disgrace to the family name. I
would not beg her for a handout. No way. Mum always had said I
had too much pride.
So I trudged up that cobbled driveway to the stout wooden door
with the spikes in it, and tried out the old iron keys in the lock.
When I found the one that fit, I took a deep breath and then
turned it. The door opened with an almighty creak. I took another
deep breath, and stepped over the threshold.
Nothing happened.
No blast of ejection. No flash of fiery magic. No seven vengeful
ghosts flying at me in fury. Blissful nothing.
“Oh thank goodness,” I murmured, and went in.

***

The next day I awoke with a groan. My head was throbbing. The
chill had given me a headache. Yesterday evening my dreams of hot
chocolate with oodles of cream and a warm bed and a roaring fire
had not materialised.
The castle had no electricity and no light switches. I had spent
ten minutes feeling around for one before giving up. It had been so
dark it had been all I could do to stumble around until I had found a
room with a couch for me to collapse into. And that was where I had
fallen asleep.
I knew the moment I awoke that something was wrong. Opening
one bleary eye, the first thing I registered was that it was light now.
I was in what appeared to be a lounge.
A window was nearby. A very pleasant square of warm sunlight
was streaming through it. Part of it had landed on my out-flung
hand.
With a yelp of pain, I flung myself away from it and landed in an
ungainly heap on the floor.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” I moaned.
Darn it! The entire back of my hand was red and throbbing and
the skin had blistered.
Retreating to a dark corner of the room far from the window, I
unzipped my backpack and found a large tube of antiseptic numbing
cream. I applied it generously and was glad for the mild numbing
effect.
A potion would have been better, but I had never had enough
magic to learn to brew potions back when I’d been in school. I had
concentrated on academics instead of magic. Much good that was
doing me now.
I got out some sunblock and started slathering it all over myself.
As I was doing so, I became aware of the other thing that was
wrong. It was a noise.
A banging and a clanging was coming from somewhere inside
the castle. Was it the ghosts? Were they coming for me?
I really did not feel up to facing an audience with them. Or a
confrontation more like.
Everyone in town knew of the seven ghosts of the Black Tower.
Manor House had several towers. The main ones were North, South,
and Black.
The ghosts of Black Tower were rumoured to be vicious. It was
said they were poltergeists, which meant they would actually be able
to do me physical harm.
I looked around for a weapon and my eyes landed on a poker
beside the fireplace. Then I laughed quietly at myself. A poker
wasn’t likely to do me much good against ghosts.
Still wary of the sunlight, I draped my scarf low over my face and
tucked my hands inside my sleeves.
I dug my wand out of my pocket and I ventured out into the
hallway.
I was going to have to confront them and tell them that I had
every right to be here and they were just going to have to put up
with me, like I would have to put up with them. I had nowhere else
to go. And I wouldn’t be here long.
I navigated the maze-like old stone passageways of the castle,
following that clanging noise, until I reached the source. The noise
was coming from behind a stout wooden door. And so was a mouth-
watering aroma that made my stomach growl.
The door was shut. I screwed up my courage and opened it. And
was astonished.
 The noisemaker was a woman. A stout woman with a big
bottom, which was pretty much all I could see of her since she was
bent over the oven. From that incredibly delicious smell, she was
taking a freshly baked cake out of it.
But what the heck was some woman doing in my castle?
I surprised myself with this thought. It seemed I was feeling
possessive of the castle already. I hadn’t really wanted it. But if
some Hardwick woman thought she was going to steal it away from
me, she had another think coming!
Not wanting to startle her into burning herself, I waited until she
had placed the hot cake tin onto the counter. And then I cleared my
throat.
She turned.
She took a look at me and I took a look at her and we both
screamed.

***

A half hour later, after we had both had a chance to calm down, she
handed me my second slice of cake and my third cup of tea.
“Why on earth you had to change your lovely hair, I’ll never
understand,” she was saying.
As I had never met her before, I was surprised how sad she was
about my hair.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you some brunch,
dear?” she said.
I shook my head, though I was famished from a week of near
starvation. Brunch would have been wonderful, but I didn’t want to
burden her.
I’d already had a delicious slice of the most incredible rich
chocolate fudge cake I had ever eaten in my life, served with a
generous dollop of clotted cream, but it had not even made a dent in
my appetite. My hunger was like a yawning chasm that had opened
up inside me that no food could quench.
I couldn’t stop staring at her in her flowing purple robes. I had
thought she was a woman because she had dressed herself up as
one.
And she was a woman of course, just not a living one.
It seemed that my Great Aunt Adele had not passed over and
had remained in this world as a poltergeist.
I simply could not understand it. Surely she should have crossed
over to join her husband, who by all accounts she had loved very
much.
Neither could I fathom why she was wearing robes and a wig and
that ridiculous powder on her face and a pair of sunglasses so large
that they put my own ones to shame.
She had taken the sunglasses off now. Where her eyes ought to
be was a hole in her makeup. A pair of transparent greyish ghostly
eyes were peering out. To say it was weird was an understatement,
and that was with me knowing what I was looking at.
Any Humble who saw them would have a heart attack.
“Why are you dressed like that, Aunt Adele?” I asked her.
“Because life goes on, even after death,” she said cheerfully.
“But...” I hesitated, wondering how to phrase this delicately. “But
I thought you loved Uncle Alaric. Didn’t you want to pass over to join
him?”
She got an upset look on her face. Even with the layer of thickly
smeared makeup, I could tell.
“Sorry!” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
She nodded and started to furiously beat up a bowl of heavy
cream with her whisk. I was glad that I wasn’t the cream.
The thing was that the love story of Great Aunt Adele and Great
Uncle Alaric was part of our family lore. It was a great big family
scandal in fact.
Great Aunt Adele was Granny Selma’s younger sister. Much
younger. She had defied her family, the Westbrims, and run off with
Alaric Hardwick. A Hardwick of all things. As far as Granny Selma
had been concerned, her sister had run off with a mortal enemy.
I didn’t blame Great Aunt Adele. It was the effect of our family’s
fairy-tale curse after all.
But her family had disowned her. His hadn’t been too pleased
with him either.
 Granny Selma had never spoken to her again. And that was why
I had never met Great Aunt Adele in her lifetime, though we had
both lived in the same small town for the first eighteen years of my
life.
She had been in her sixties when she passed away. With her
plump pleasant face and hair in a neat bun, she probably looked the
same as she had done when alive. I wouldn’t know. The last time I
had seen her had been from afar, and that had been nearly twenty
years ago.
“Is it okay for me to be here?” I asked.
“I suppose we’ll have to rub along,” she said absent-mindedly.
She was scraping vanilla seeds from their pods into the cream. It
already smelled heavenly.
“Why did you leave me this place in your will, Aunt Adele?” I
asked her.
“Better you than the others,” she said. “I suppose I had an
inkling I might stay on. And I hardly expected you to actually come
back right now, dear. Everyone knew you’d gone off to London for
good!”
She looked at me a bit accusingly.
“Sorry,” I said. “Things didn’t turn out quite as I had planned. But
I won’t be here for long.”
I left it vague. The last thing I wanted was a ghost hovering
around who was going to guess my secret.
She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to ask me to clarify my
plans, but I was saved by a banging from somewhere outside.
Aunt Adele’s face lit up. “They’re here!” she cried out in delight.
“Who?” I said, feeling a bit alarmed.
I turned my ear towards where the banging was coming from. It
sounded like a fist pounding on glass. I stood up to flee. The last
thing I needed was to be seen by a bunch of enemy Hardwicks.
“Customers!” she trilled.
“Customers?”
“Well, who did you think I was baking all these cakes for, dear?”
she said. “Everyone always loved my cakes. I’ve decided to keep my
café open.”
 My mouth dropped open. “But... but...”
I didn’t know what to say. Aunt Adele had run a café called Dele’s
Delights out of the castle during her lifetime, named so by her
adoring husband.
She’d been particularly gifted at kitchen magic, and my cousins
and I had always been envious when our school friends had told us
of all the delicious things they had eaten at Aunt Adele’s café, which
we were forbidden to visit.
“The tourists are going to love it!” she said gleefully.
Tourists! So that was why she was wearing that ridiculous stuff.
She was trying to pass herself off as being alive for the sake of the
Humbles!
“Although I suppose there won’t be many of them here now it’s
gotten so cold,” she said regretfully.
She did not seem to care that revealing her ghostly self was the
same as revealing magic to Humbles, which was a breach of the
International Magical Secrecy Pact.
And now she was dead, it was me who’d be getting into trouble
for it!
She slapped a big floppy-brimmed witch’s hat over her head and
floated towards the door. I snatched up her forgotten sunglasses and
raced after her.
“Wait!” I cried out. “I’ll let them in. You can stay in the kitchen
until we, er, perfect your disguise.”
She halted and looked thoughtfully at me. Spotting her
sunglasses in my hand, she looked a little contrite.
“I suppose that might be a good idea. You may as well put
yourself to some use. Off you pop!”
Humming to herself, she returned to the oven. I opened the
second door she had been about to go through and flinched.
On the other side was Dele’s Delights Café, and it was in a glass
conservatory!
The large glass structure was attached to the castle and outside
it I could see one of the castle gardens. I gazed out at all that glass
in dismay. I was glad to see the sky outside was overcast and grey.
 I winced as I stepped forward into the milky light. Immediately I
felt a tingling burning on my face and hands that made me feel itchy
all over.
My sunblock might be holding up for now, but my every instinct
told me to run away. But I couldn’t. The people outside the café had
already spotted me through the glass. One of them was waving at
me.
I made my way to the café door. Through the frosted glass, I
made out a group of five people standing outside. When I let them
in I was pleased to see that they were not Humbles.
Brimstone Bay was the only entirely magical and eldritch town in
all of England. The only Humbles we got were tourists.
These were young locals. I recognised a couple of them,
especially since one of them was fairly famous here.
He was the dhampire Oberon Maltei Junior, a daywalker.
I recognised him by his distinctive widow’s peak, that dark hair
and those intense green eyes. The last time I had seen him he must
have been only seven or eight. It was so odd to see him all grown
up, a man now.
I didn’t know how I felt about his arrival. Seeing him put me a
little on edge. And not for the reasons you would think.
Vampires didn’t have the best of reputations, not even here in
Brimstone Bay. Oberon’s dad was the vampire patriarch Oberon
Maltei Senior, one of Brimstone Bay’s wealthiest and most important
residents. A charming billionaire and a ladies’ man, and yet highly
feared by many.
Despite who his father was, as a kid little Oberon Junior the
dhampire had always been playful and cute and well liked in town.
He hadn’t bitten a single soul, not even in nursery school, so they
said.
He had clearly grown up to be an affable adult too, going by the
warm smile he offered me as he led the way in.
“Oh good, you’re open!” he exclaimed. “I’ve missed Dele’s cakes.”
His friends followed him in. Two guys, two girls, all very pretty
people. I bet at school they had been a popular bunch.
 The quintet were pink-cheeked from the outdoors, as if they had
hiked up the cliff-side to get here from the beach. The castle stood
near a cliff edge that overlooked Brimstone Bay Beach below.
The other one I had recognised was Lorcan Hardwick. He had
been the little golden haired kid always running around with Oberon
back then. He was little no more. He looked very much like his big
sister, who I’d had the great misfortune of being in school with.
Lorcan had a surprised expression on his face as he scrutinised
me. I had got rid of my scarf in the warmth of the kitchen, and so
my face was on show. He hadn’t recognised me for a Westbrim
though, or he wouldn’t be looking me up and down in that not too
unflattering manner.
A bit appreciatively, I thought. I didn’t know whether I was
offended or amused.
He wouldn’t have been looking at me like that a week ago. The
single positive side effect of my new unwanted condition was that it
had increased my metabolism to the point that I, who had been
more than a little plump my whole life, had lost an impossible
number of pounds this past week.
My first glimpse of my newly svelte self in the mirror had been a
shock. That was another thing I was glad of — still having a
reflection. The loss of it would have been very difficult to explain.
Lorcan Hardwick’s momentary appreciation was better than his
displeasure, I supposed. Any Hardwick was going to be furious about
me inheriting Manor House. Clearly he did not know that little
nugget yet.
I showed the five to a table, handed them some menus, and
retreated to a blissfully shady spot behind the counter.
As they enthusiastically considered their choices, I considered
them. I was glad to see they were taking more interest in their food
options than in me.
The three others in their group were unfamiliar to me, which
wasn’t surprising given how long I’d been away.
My instinct for species told me that two of them were baena – an
incubus and succubus. The shade of their blond hair was an exact
match and their long, elegant faces were very similar. I figured they
must be siblings. This was confirmed when I overheard Oberon
referring to them as twins.
The last one in the group was one of the most gorgeous girls I
had ever seen in my life. Blond hair so pale it was almost silver, big
eyes so blue that they were almost purple, rosy cheeks and a
rosebud mouth and a figure to die for. She was much prettier than
the succubus, which was saying something, and yet she didn’t seem
to be a succubus herself as far as I could tell.
Even so, all three of the guys she was with could barely keep
their eyes off her. But she had eyes only for the menu.
She leaned towards Oberon as he told her which were his
favourite desserts.
Lorcan Hardwick and the incubus watched them with obvious
jealousy. The incubus looked like he wished he could use his Allure
on the gorgeous girl, but that would have been beyond rude.
Allure was a magical gift that baena were born with, which they
could use to make them irresistibly attractive to other beings. It was
for use on prey, not on friends.
Lorcan watched the girl and vented his frustrations by
absentmindedly shredding a flyer in his hands.
The flyer was one of the posters for the new opening of the café
that Aunt Adele had distributed around the place.
She had put fresh flowers on each table too, and white
tablecloths. Overhead she had created a chandelier of pastel
balloons from which streaming ribbons were gently dangling. It was
a shame the place was almost empty.
For her, not for me. I was glad of it.
When I went to take their orders, they asked for a vanilla
millefeuille, a slice of passion and white chocolate mousse cake, and
two slices of the baked vanilla cheesecake.
“With the special berry compote,” the gorgeous girl said, looking
at me anxiously to make sure I had heard this part.
I smiled, and reassured her I would bring the compote. It had
Aunt Adele’s famous Perk-Me-Up Potion syrup in it.
“Oh good!” she said, bouncing a little in her seat. “This guy has
been telling me about it all morning!” She playfully patted Oberon’s
forearm, and he grinned adoringly.
Oberon ordered the double chocolate fudge cake for himself. The
same one that I had just had for brunch myself.
“Good choice,” I said.
“Hey, you’re Esme Westbrim, aren’t you?” he said.
My smile went rigid. Darn it. How the heck did he know and why
did he have to say it out loud?
I shrugged, not wanting to confirm it.
Lorcan Hardwick’s head had whipped around to look at me, and
narrowed when he saw me shrug. He glared at my hair, as if I had
dyed it on purpose to mislead him.
Oberon had not noticed my change of mood. He was looking at
Aunt Adele’s decorations with appreciation.
“So you inherited the place from Dele, huh?” he said. “Good for
you.”
Lorcan looked astonished, and then very annoyed. Oberon
noticed. He burst into laughter and then punched Lorcan good-
naturedly on the arm.
“I bet you wanted it yourself, didn’t you buddy?” he said. “But
you can hardly blame the old bird for leaving it to her own family.”
He turned to me, “Lorcan is—”
“I know,” I said. “Alaric Hardwick was his great uncle.”
Lorcan had been related to Aunt Adele’s husband in the same
way that I was related to Aunt Adele.
“Maybe if the old man had outlasted his wife, he would have left
the crumbling old pile to Lorcan, huh?” said Oberon. “Lorcan always
was his favourite.”
Oberon’s eyes crinkled with mirth as he contemplated the sour
expression on his friend’s face.
“Ha ha,” said Lorcan, not smiling.
“Chill out,” said Oberon. “It’s not like you need it.”
He turned to me suddenly. “Not that I’m implying you need it
either.”
As if calling a person poor was the worst thing you could call
them. I had been poor for many years of my life. That’s what
happened when you left home at eighteen with no real life-skills. I
refused to be ashamed of it.
I shrugged.
Oberon extended his hand for me to shake. “I’m—”
“Oberon Maltei Junior,” I said. “I know.”
It seemed I remembered rather more about this town than I
thought I did.
“You can leave Brimstone Bay but the bay never leaves you,”
Oberon said with a warm smile.
His hand that I was shaking was warm too. Warmer than mine
anyhow. Funny, since he was the vampire.
I quickly pulled my hand away. The sunlight seemed to not affect
him at all, I noted enviously.
Maybe it was a dhampire thing, I thought, to have warm blood
pumping through their veins. They were incredibly rare. I had never
met another, let alone shook their hand.
The long-faced succubus was looking at me and Oberon with
pursed lips as if she didn’t like our banter. Not that she had any
reason to be worried for her girl-friend. Oberon clearly only had eyes
for the gorgeous girl, who Oberon promptly told me was called Lily
Silverswift.
He introduced the baena twins too. They were Petra and Paulo
Ambers. I nodded in recognition. The Ambers were a quite
prominent baena family in the town.
“I’m hungry,” Petra complained, and glared at me in a way that
made it clear that she expected me to be a good little waitress and
scurry off to get her cakes.
There was no need for me to do this since Aunt Adele must have
been spying on us. She now swept into the café carrying an
enormous tray heaving under the weight of the cakes and an
enormous tea pot and cups.
The girls exclaimed appreciatively over the cakes, and Lily even
clapped her hands when she saw the little jugs of winter berry
compote. This put a big smile on Aunt Adele’s face.
I helped her unload everything onto the table, while Oberon
grinned unashamedly at Aunt Adele’s disguise.
 “If you hadn’t floated in,” he teased her, “I’d have thought you
were alive for sure.”
“Shut up, Oberon,” said Lorcan.
Oberon reached out to pat Aunt Adele’s hand, and did not flinch
from the icy blast of cold he must have felt. He winked at her.
“I never dared tell you this when you were alive because Lorcan
would’ve thought I was going after his granny, but these purple
robes of yours always were my favourite. You look as delicious as
these cakes!”
She pinched his cheek fondly. “Oberon Junior, you always were a
cheeky little rascal!”
She poured them all cups of steaming hot tea, and poured me a
cup too. “I’ve brought you a slice of the red velvet cake to try,” she
said, placing it in front of an empty chair at the table.
I shook my head. “I’ll eat it in the kitchen,” I told her lightly,
wanting to scurry away from the unpleasant burn of the sunlight and
trying to hide it. “These guys didn’t come here to eat with me.”
And more importantly, I didn’t much want to eat with them. I had
secrets to hide where sharp eyes would not notice them, especially a
dhampire’s.
But Oberon insisted on my joining them, and I found myself
acquiescing. Maybe I would learn something from him. Like what
ambient magic he’d been born with that made him not shrivel into a
pile of sunburnt blisters.
I was surprised how pleasant their company turned out to be.
After she had eaten her cake, even Petra Ambers lightened up.
The five happily told me about themselves. Oberon, Lorcan, Petra
and Paolo had known each other their whole lives, and took much
pleasure in ribbing each other. Much of their chatter was about how
things in town were looking up now that the new mayor had been
elected. Mayor Blaze had promised improvements. They were
especially looking forward to this year’s winter festivities.
I bit my tongue. Antioch Blaze, the new mayor, was not someone
I admired. The quicker his term was over, the better in my opinion.
Lily and I exchanged a glance. I had a feeling she was thinking
the same.
 She rolled her eyes at her friends. “Gosh, guys,” she said. “Just
because Antioch Blaze is famous, there’s no need to be drooling over
him.”
I took a sip of tea to disguise my smile. She might be the
youngest, but she had her head screwed on straight.
It turned out the lovely Lily Silverswift was new to town and was
a witch.
I was a bit taken aback by this news. Witches did not date
vampires. It was not approved of. And clearly she had something
going on with Oberon.
She eyed me up to see whether I was judging her, and I quickly
gave her a smile. Because who was I to judge? She seemed to relax.
“Is it true you have pink Magicwild hair?” she asked wistfully,
looking at my brunette locks as if she wished I would change them
back so that she could see.
The Magicwild was the world from which all magic came, an
incredible place of great fascination to us witches and wizards. It
was very difficult to get to, needing powerful magic to cross through
the ether into it.
“It’s true,” I said.
“Wow! I was always so curious about Brimstone Bay,” she said.
Her high voice was a silvery as her name. It reminded me a little of
a ringing bell. “Mum and dad preferred to take us to Magicwild
Market in London when we needed to buy things, and we always
holidayed abroad, so they never brought me here when I was little.
So me and my friends came together this summer. I loved it so
much I ended up staying!”
She spoke all in a rush, and I could see now that she was barely
twenty. It seemed practically a baby to me now that I was past the
wrong side of thirty-five, as my mum liked to say.
“Speaking of your friends...” said Oberon darkly. He was looking
towards the café door.
Lily looked in that direction and her face fell.
“What is he doing here?” she said, sounding upset.
Outside, a young man was walking down the path towards the
café. She stood up and rushed to intercept him, but he had already
opened the door and come in.
I took him in with a single glance, and quietly asked,
“Werewolf?” to Oberon.
He nodded.
I was relieved, because at least I wouldn’t have to persuade Aunt
Adele to leave. She looked like she was having far too much fun
watching Oberon and friends to be persuaded to go quietly.
Oberon’s eyes were fixed on Lily and the newcomer, who were
whispering furiously at each other over by the door. Lily was trying
to push the guy out but he was refusing to leave.
Oberon looked envious.
I hardly thought that Oberon had anything to worry about. The
dhampire was classically handsome with his dark hair and jewel
bright eyes. The new guy was only averagely good looking in a
rough and rugged way. His shaggy brown hair could have done with
a cut.
“Who is he?” I asked Oberon.
“Her ex,” he said shortly. “James.”
Oberon, Lorcan and Paolo all looked annoyed at this James. Even
Petra was watching the arguing couple with narrowed eyes.
“Stupid git,” she muttered. “Can’t he take a hint? Trying to drag
her home as if she was a piece of meat.”
“Why did they break up?” I asked curiously.
“She came here and found someone better,” said Petra, her eyes
flicking to Oberon. “James left, but I’m not surprised he’s come
back. She always did say he was too possessive.”
The new guy James had taken a very firm grip on Lily’s arm and
was trying to drag her out of the café, but she was refusing to go.
Oberon rose to his feet, anger on his face.
“You stay right where you are,” said Aunt Adele anxiously. “I
won’t tolerate fisticuffs in my café.”
Oberon did not sit down. He looked torn, like he hated seeing
James’s hands on Lily but he wasn’t too sure whether Lily would
want him to intercede.
“Go!” Lily was yelling now. “I don’t care if you’ve got nowhere to
stay. You shouldn’t have come.”
 “Don’t mess me around Lily,” shouted James, his face red. “Stop
being a stupid brat or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?”
She shoved him hard on the chest. He was a big guy and it didn’t
do more than make him take a single step backwards.
“Get lost! You can sleep on the damn beach with your stupid
cats!” she yelled. “I don’t want you here.”
“You’re not staying,” he snarled. “I won’t let you.”
His hand tightened around her wrist. She yelped. He wrenched
open the door and started dragging her out.
Oberon moved fast towards them. I ran after him. The look on
his face alarmed me. He looked like he was going to kill someone
and no way was I going to let him make that kind of mistake.
But Oberon was a vampire and faster than me. He was nearly at
James. His hands reached for James’s throat. He snarled. I saw his
fangs. And the next thing I knew, I had whipped my wand out and
there was a blast.
Glass smashed. Lily screamed. James went flying out of the now
shattered café door.
Looking stunned, he picked himself up. His eyes were black with
anger. He was holding his chest. He pointed a shaking finger at me.
“You,” he snarled. “You don’t know what you’re messing with!”
“Go away James!” Lily screamed, her voice high with panic.
James’s eyes dropped to my wand, and his gaze turned wary.
Then he looked at Lily almost accusingly.
“Stay here in this stupid place then,” he yelled furiously. “You’ll
regret it!”
He stalked off.
“You crazy witch!” Lily screamed at me. “What the heck is wrong
with you?”
I wanted to explain that I’d been trying to help, but my mouth
was gaping open. I was flabbergasted by what I’d done.
“Don’t you even think about it, young lady!” said Aunt Adele to
Lily.
Because Lily had her own wand in her hand now and she was
pointing it at me.
 “How would you like it if I did that to you?” she screeched.
I took a step back. I didn’t even know how I’d done it. I hadn’t
meant to. Never in my wildest dreams had it occurred to me that
that might happen.
She stabbed her wand towards me, her mouth opening to say an
incantation to hex or curse me.
I lifted my wand too, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I
couldn’t repeat what I had done. I didn’t know how. I was lucky no
one had been hurt.
Lily’s fierce look hardened to resolution. I braced to leap out of
the way.
Aunt Adele plucked Lily’s wand out of her hand. The girl cried out
in anger and wrenched her wand back. She screamed then, because
it broke.
Looking on the verge of tears, she turned tail and chased James
out of the café.
Her friends all followed her.
I wish I could say that was the last I saw of her but it was not.
“That poor girl,” said Aunt Adele. “I’ll have to pay to get her a
new wand. I do hope they come back.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “You didn’t break it.”

***

Oberon and friends were the only visitors who came to the café that
day, much to Aunt Adele’s disappointment.
After dark she hung up the closed sign on the café and took me
up to the South Tower. She made a room up for me, putting fresh
sheets on the bed and lighting scented candles and fussing while I
unpacked my meagre belongings.
“You’ll get some privacy here,” she said. “My room is in the North
Tower so you’ll not find me over this way much.”
Before I went to bed that evening, she admonished me for
staying indoors all day, and said that I had better go into town
tomorrow and hand out some of her flyers. She had not gone to all
this trouble to reopen the café for nothing.
 I didn’t much feel like explaining to her why I had no intention of
going out in the daytime so I kept quiet. She went to bed after
feeding me a delicious dinner for which I was most grateful, and I
went to bed too.
Instead of going up to my tower, I ended up snuggling in the
couch in the lounge, tucked into a warm blanket before the roaring
fire, sipping at the cup of hot cocoa I had been craving.
I found myself vaguely thinking that maybe life in Brimstone Bay
could be good for me. I would not have to live with my family
anymore. It was lovely here with Aunt Adele. If only I could find a
way to keep my secret.
I let myself indulge in that train of thought for a little while
before putting a stop to it.
No, no, no, I told myself.
Brimstone Bay was the most dangerous place in the world for
someone like me. A town full of witches and wizards? I’d be lucky to
last a week.
I was here to find a cure, and please Goddess let there be one.
And then I was going straight back to London. I was going to
charge into the apartment and pack up all of my worldly belongings,
and half of Drew’s most precious things too, just to spite him. Like
that noisy golden cuckoo clock on the mantelpiece that I always
hated, but which he insisted was a family heirloom.
While I did it, I would shout and rage at the top of my voice,
because if there was one thing that Drew hated it was for his posh
neighbours to know his business.
And then I would yell, “In your face, Drew Barrington-
Cholmondeley the Second, husband of three weeks and total creep!
I never wanted to marry you and your stupid name anyway!” and
drive away into the sunset with a sense of dignity and a fake fist-
pump of victory.
Except I couldn’t drive. I’d never needed to in London with its
excellent public transport system.
I’d worked from home most of the time anyway, as a real-life
crime mystery blog writer, earning just enough to get by. Having a
car in London had been too expensive for my budget. After moving
in with Drew I’d insisted on paying my fair share, so almost all of my
earnings had gone towards the bills for his expensive apartment.
Gosh that was lame. I wasn’t even going to be able to drive off
into the sunset under my own steam.
But this was a fantasy dammit, and I would darn well drive off in
it if I wanted to.
Heck, if I was going to daydream about the impossible, I would
etherhop away with a wave of my wand. And then I’d etherhop back
to see the shock and astonishment on Drew and Sarah’s stupid
faces. And then I would point my wand at them and...
No, no, I would never do that.
Not even in my imagination. That way lay the slippery slope. I
hated witches who resorted to using magic on Humbles. And I had
known more than a few of that kind growing up in Brimstone Bay.
I tried to drop off in my arm chair but my thoughts plagued me.
I tossed and turned for hours. The fire was dying down and it was
growing chill. Outside the night was calling to me and my body did
not want to sleep. It was a long time before I dropped off.
I woke up several times to noises. Sometimes noises that I
hoped were just the old castle settling in the dark. Sometimes the
noises of what Aunt Adele had told me were the fairies and gnomes
making war in the garden. One time it was definitely the sounds of a
person moving around, but when I went to investigate, wand
uselessly but firmly clenched in my hand, it turned out to be Aunt
Adele humming to herself and shifting crates of stuff around in the
garden. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, not that
ghosts really slept as far as I was aware. Their rest was of a
different sort.
Determined to stick to a night-time sleeping routine, I returned
to my armchair and firmly closed my eyes.
The next time I woke, something cold was nuzzling my nose. I
gave a yelp of fright when I saw two shiny green eyes looking at me
in the semi-darkness. It was a moment before I realised who it was
and I chuckled.
“Captain Villain, is that you?”
He meowed as if to say, ‘Of course it is me, you fool of a witch.’
 Captain Villain had been my favourite of the cats in Kitten Cove
when I was young. I had named him Captain Villain because he was
always turning up wherever there was a spot of trouble.
“Gosh, I’m glad you’re still alive,” I murmured. “You must be
pretty old now huh, fella?”
He made an almost snorting sound as if to tell me he most
certainly was not old.
I stroked his silky black fur. He was almost indistinguishable from
the darkness.
He was perched on the back of the couch. When he patted my
cheek with his paw I felt a smear of wetness left behind. I knew
what it was immediately. I could smell it. That sharp iron tang.
I sat bolt upright. I didn’t want to smell it. My stomach roiled. No
actually it growled. Loudly.
“Darn it,” I said to him quietly. “How did you get that stuff on
you? You know I’m going to have to wash it off, don’t you?”
I lifted him up gingerly, not wanting to get any of the stuff on
myself, and carried him out to the garden to hose him down, though
I knew he would hate that.
And that was when I saw Lily Silverswift again. Only this time she
was no longer alive.
 3. The Special Agent & The
Werewolf

“What the heck are you doing here?”

The moment I had said it again, I groaned. Trust me to say that
to him twice in a row. And he was looking at me with the same look
of mild dislike with which he had eyed me up the first time.
I had called for the police immediately of course after finding Lily.
Well, almost immediately. First I had considered hiding the body
— carting it off somewhere else that was not on my property —
because heavens knew that I hardly needed a dead body to add to
my woes.
In the end I had decided to do the right thing. Captain Villain had
looked at me with disgust, as if to say it was most definitely not the
right thing. But I had done it anyway. And now I was regretting it.
Sort of.
Because the cop who had turned up at my door was none other
than America’s beloved Captain Shield himself, Mr Chris Constantine.
Only he wasn’t a cop, because the local police station was really
just a front. Humble police did not work there. Instead we had
watch witches and wizards from the Conclave of Magic and officers
from the Eldritch Council’s Department of Eldritch Law Enforcement.
In this case I had expected to be sent a watch witch or wizard,
since the deceased was a witch herself. I had thought perhaps even
Chief Gulliver Raine himself might come.
Gulliver Raine was the Chief Inspector of the Brimstone Bay
Watch. Chief Raine knew our family well, and I had planned to make
a special request for him to not tell everyone I was back, if he
possibly could.
Instead I had been sent no watch witch and no Chief Raine
either.
 Standing at my door was Special Agent Chris Constantine, or so
he had introduced himself as to me. I’d never heard of a Special
Agent in Brimstone Bay before. Instead of asking him what that
meant, I had demanded to know what the heck he was doing here.
He darned well knew what I meant, and therefore his response
could only have been meant to goad me.
“Madam, you called regarding a body. Is that right?”
Madam indeed. I was a year younger than him. I knew because I
had googled it. He was thirty-eight. A very nice thirty-eight that filled
out its trousers quite perfectly.
So he was keen on not answering my question, was he? Two
could play at that game.
Without a word I marched him through the castle towards the
private family garden where I had found her.
I paused in the garden doorway, not wanting to go out. The early
dawn sun was beginning to light up the sky. The day looked like it
was going to be too bright for my liking. And wouldn’t you know it, I
was finally beginning to feel tired. My eyelids were drooping.
I needed to top up my sunblock and fast. Not to mention
changing out of the lurid pink old dressing gown that Aunt Adele had
lent me.
When I had put it on I had no idea that stupidly handsome Mr
High And Mighty was going to pay me a visit of course.
Refusing to step out, I pointed him to where the body was and
turned to go back inside the castle.
“Where are you going?” he asked sharply.
“To spend a penny,” I told him. “Is that okay, or do you need to
supervise?”
He had the grace to flush ever so slightly. I must have dragged
him out of bed because he looked kind of sleepy. It was adorable.
“Be quick about it,” he told me, ruining the effect. “I’ll need to
ask you some questions.”
“No! Questions? I would never have guessed.”
My sarcasm was wasted on him. He didn’t even scowl.
I hurried off up to my tower to wash my face and slather on piles
of sunblock. I was using up a half bottle a day at this point, and it
wasn’t like I could waltz into a pharmacy here and keep buying the
stuff without someone getting suspicious.
I put on my one change of clothing – a fresh pair of black
leggings and a pale green tunic which had been an old favourite. It
didn’t look so great on me now. It was too baggy.
On my return downstairs, I discovered Special Agent Constantine
was done examining the body in the garden. Following the distant
voices, I found him in the kitchen having tea with Aunt Adele.
I paused just outside the doorway to listen. Being sneaky made
me feel guilty, but these days I had good reason. I needed to protect
myself.
“Your absolute favourite,” Aunt Adele was saying fondly. “And you
want a dollop of cream too, I assume?”
“You know it, Dele,” he said.
There was a note of light-hearted laughter in his voice that I had
not heard before. My heart gave a silly little flip flop. I told it to calm
the fudge down.
They seemed to know each other. How odd.
I walked in to find she had cut him a generous slice of my very
own favourite chocolate fudge cake.
“It’s Esme’s favourite too,” Aunt Adele said, beaming when she
saw me.
He did not look impressed. Maybe knowing it was my favourite
even put him off, because he pushed aside his plate and took out a
notepad and pen.
He absentmindedly picked a couple of twigs out of his hair. Aunt
Adele saw him and chortled.
“Did the fairies pelt you? You should have brought them a gift.”
“Like what?” he said, looking astonished. “Fruit? Nuts? Honey?”
Aunt Adele threw back her head and shook with laughter. Then
she patted him on his head.
“No dear. Grubs. Mealworms. Ant eggs. They’re fearsome meat-
eating little critters. Did none of your friends have fairies in their
gardens growing up?”
Clearly not. The look on his face made even me laugh. His
delusions of fairies being delightful darlings was being shattered.
 “Just wait until you see the beastly little carnivores chomping
their way through...” I paused, seeing the dismay on his face, and
added, “Never mind.”
“Is the body safe out there?” he asked.
“Of course it is! They don’t eat people. Just bugs.”
This reminder that Lily was out there was sobering. I gave a sigh.
Aunt Adele poured me a cup of tea and cut me some cake, and
started cooking breakfast.
Chris Constantine said, “Adele has assured me that the seven
ghosts had nothing to do with the death. She was with them at the
time. Nor did they witness anything relevant.”
“Nor did they have any motive to attack that poor girl,” insisted
Aunt Adele.
Agent Constantine turned to Aunt Adele. “But I may need to ask
questions of them later.”
I couldn’t help but snigger. “Good luck with that.”
He furrowed his brows, but did not respond to my implication
that he ought to be afraid of them.
He asked me questions in that stiff and serious manner of his.
“Did you know the victim?”
“How did you discover the victim?”
“What were you doing out in the garden at that time of the
morning?”
I was both annoyed and relieved at this line of questioning.
Annoyed because he was treating me with suspicion. Relieved
because I had once been accused of murder before, and I was very
thankful he did not seem to know anything about it.
I told him about meeting Lily yesterday, and who had been with
her, and all about the argument that she had had with her ex-
boyfriend James, and that after our little confrontation how they had
fled, one running after the other.
“Her wand broke,” I said quietly. “Maybe if it hadn’t broken, she’d
still be alive. She could have defended herself.”
Realizing this, I felt awful. It wouldn’t have broken if she had not
been arguing with me.
 Agent Constantine didn’t reassure me that it wasn’t my fault. He
didn’t say anything at all. This made me feel worse.
When I told him that I had discovered the body after my cat had
tracked some blood into the house, he was sceptical.
“I didn’t see a cat with you on the train.”
Ah, so he remembered that did he? I had begun to think maybe
he had not recognised me.
“He’s not really my cat. Captain Villain is one of the cats that lives
out at Kitten Cove.”
“Those strays?”
“They’re not strays,” I said, offended. “They’re cherished by the
townsfolk. The ones who have any sense anyway.”
His eyes narrowed. “Captain Villain?”
I felt myself flush with embarrassment. It was like he knew that I
had named Captain Villain as a parody of Captain Shield all those
years ago. One had been so good at making trouble, and one had
been so good at fixing it.
My lips twitched. It was funny really if you thought about it.
He didn’t look amused.
“How did the cat get inside the castle?”
I furrowed my brows thoughtfully. “I don’t know. None of the
doors and windows were open. Maybe he got in when Aunt Adele
was doing some work out in the garden.”
Aunt Adele shook her head. “I didn’t see him, dear.”
“But he could have,” I said stubbornly.
She shook her head firmly.
“Perhaps you left a window open?” he suggested.
“Oh no,” Aunt Adele and I said together. Aunt Adele had
reassured me that she’d locked everything up tightly to put me at
ease in a strange new place last night.
“Then how?” he asked bluntly.
“Maybe he’s a magical cat,” I suggested with a small smile. The
cats of Kitten Cove often were.
He looked doubtful. He had a lot to learn about this town.
“How would the cat have known that you were in here?” he
asked.
 “How am I supposed to know?” I said sharply. “Do you really
think I murdered a girl that I barely even knew and then I made up
this stupid cat story to try and cover it all up?”
“What were you wearing last night?” he asked.
Now my cheeks really did go red.
“You saw what I was wearing when you arrived,” I said huffily.
“And for your information, there wasn’t a spot of blood on it. I didn’t
touch her.”
“Hmmm. Do you have an alibi for the time of the murder? Say
between the hours of nine o’clock last night and dawn this
morning?”
“What alibi would that be?” I snapped.
His eyes dropped to my left hand, where a faint band of pale skin
was visible on my ring finger. I had left my wedding rings in London,
flinging them off in a fit of rage.
“No,” I said shortly. “The only person around here is Aunt Adele. I
saw her before I went to bed. She can vouch for me.”
“And after that?”
“After that I was trying to get some sleep,” I said shortly.
I saw him write down the words no alibi on his notepad.
“Why have you come back to Brimstone Bay after so long away?”
he asked.
“I don’t see how that is relevant.”
“Why did you arrive so late at night?”
“I got a late train. Why? Is that against your sense of propriety?”
He didn’t comment, merely saying, “Why does no one know that
you are in town?”
“How do you know that nobody knows I’m in town?” I said
sharply.
I saw the slight rise in his eyebrows, and I almost groaned out
loud. Darn it! The sneak! He had trapped me into saying that. He
hadn’t really known that I’d come back to town on the down-low.
Now he did.
“Wily coyote,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I said you’re not just a pretty face after all!”
 He looked annoyed.
There were so many things I could have said to explain away
creeping in under the cover of night. That I enjoyed being a solitary
person. That I was an introvert, a writer. But given my new affliction,
all of that just sounded highly suspicious. So I said none of it. I
didn’t want him thinking I was a lonely weirdo who had something
to hide.
“Are you done with your fifty million questions?” I asked irritably.
“Shouldn’t you be running off to interview that James guy?”
“Do you know where I might find him?”
“How am I supposed to know that?” I demanded hotly. “Do you
think I’m harbouring him in here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
Now he was being deliberately provocative. There had been no
reason for him to say that at all. Other than being snarky with me.
I stood up abruptly. “I’d like you to leave now. I believe I’ve told
you anything helpful that I’m aware of.”
I was trying very hard not to be rude. Perhaps I imagined it, but
I was sure that I saw the corners of his lips twitch, as if this amused
him.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay a little longer,” he said. “Or
do you want the body to stay in your garden all day?”
I groaned out loud this time, not bothering to hide it. How stupid
of me. And I called myself a crime writer! He needed to wait for a
crime scene team to arrive.
“I assume you won’t need me for that. Aunt Adele can keep you
company.”
I swept out of the kitchen like a Westbrim ought to. Shoulders
stiff, back straight, chin up. Granny Selma would have been proud.
Aunt Adele ruined it by saying, “You go and get yourself back
into bed, dear. You look done in. I’ll bring you up a breakfast tray.”
As if I was a child.
“And don’t go anywhere,” added Chris Constantine.
I scowled. “Am I a suspect? Did you see the state of her
wounds? That poor girl. I could not possibly have done it.”
“You are a witch,” he said. “You could have done anything.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
nevelői hivatalra tett szert. A ház, melybe jutott, a jobbaknak, azaz
azoknak egyike volt, hol a nevelő szép fizetés és nyugpénz mellett a
szakácscsal s komornyikkal majdnem egyenlő lábon áll, s noha két
fiú bizatott gondjára, mi már csak azért is elég baj, mert két úrfi
mindig többet lármáz s kevesebbet tanul, mintha csak egy volna, s
noha apai s anyai szeretet a két fiú között megosztva, a nevelő
fáradozásai sikeres ellensúlyát képezék, s mindazon kis bajok s
szenvedések, melyek egy nevelőnek életét elkeserítik, nem
hiányoztak nehéz ösvényén, – Jónás mindezt eltűré. Minden jobb
ember életének legfájdalmasabb időszaka az, melyben
meggyőződve magas terveinek kivihetetlenségéről, egoismusra
kényszeríttetik, s kik előbb az egész emberi nemet vagy legalább
hazánkat akartuk boldogítani, vérző kebellel egy kis szerencsét
keresünk önmagunknak, Jónásra nézve rég eljött, ő szerénynyé vált
kivánataiban, Erzsébet vele egy házban lakott, jövője biztosítva volt,
ő megelégedett helyzetével. – Sorsa máskép határozá. A ház,
melyben nevelősködött, katholikus volt, ő reformált; mint midőn még
kántor volt s katholikus nőt választott magának, az egész község,
úgy most az apa barátai s az anya rokonai felzúdultak e vallási
botrány ellen, s jeléül, hogy e honban minden vallásfelekezet
legalább a keresztyén türelemre nézve egyenlő, Tengelyi ismét
elbocsáttatott, s mint gazdasági tiszt kezdé meg újra éltének nehéz
ösvényét.
Tengelyi azon emberek egyike vala, kik minden foglalatosságnál
föltalálják az összeköttetést, melyben az valamely szép vagy
nagyszerű eszmével áll; s innen van, hogy valamint senki magát
könnyebben új életmódhoz nem határozá el, úgy senki többször
csalódva nem érzé magát. Így járt most is. Midőn magát
gazdatisztségre szánta, Virgil Georgiconja tölté el képzetét, később
csak ablaka előtt a magas szemétdomb s azon még sokkal
mocskosabb érintkezések maradtak meg ábrándjaiból, melyekbe
hivatala által jött. Virgil Georgiconában egészen megfeledkezett az
urbariumról, s mégis ennek alkalmazása volt Tengelyi tisztségének
egyedüli, vagy legalább fő kötelessége, mihez még az járult, hogy
ura – igen szabadelvű nagyságos úr, ki Voltairet s Rousseaut
majdnem könyv nélkül tudá, – az urbariumot elavult s felvilágosodott
századunkhoz nem illő törvénynek tartva, azon szebbnél szebb
javításokat kisértett meg, melyek szegény Jónásunkat majdnem
kétségbeejték.
Miután parasztjai sokkal kevesebb földet birtak, mint az úrbér
szerint birniok kellett volna s tudta, hogy egész idejöket, mely az
Isten, úr s megye szolgálatából fölmarad, telkeikre nem fordíthatják,
a méltóságos úr, ki a henyeség veszélyeit magáról ismeri, mint jó
apa gondoskodott, hogy gyermekei az úrbéri kötelesség felett is
elégséges munkával láttassanak el. Ezenkívül még más, igen
czélszerű javítások hozattak be e nemes férfiú jószágain. Így, mint jó
hazafi nem ismervén el a devalvatiót, mennyire hatalma terjedett,
azaz jószágain, csak ezüst pénz fogadtatott el s természet szerint
ebben szedette a füstpénzt is. Hasonlókép gondoskodott jobbágyai
neveléséről. Nem azon közönséges nevelést értem, mely irásban,
olvasásban s több ily haszontalanságokban áll, hanem azon
fontosabb gyakorlatit, mely az életre készít s mert ezt természet
szerint az urasági udvarban kaphatni legczélszerűbben, egész háza
teli volt jobbágyfiúkkal s leányokkal, kik majd mint lovászok, majd
mind konyhaszolgálók, vagy a fonóban minden díj nélkül az élet
leghasznosabb mesterségeiben oktattattak.
Jónás, ki mindezen dolgokban akaratlan eszköz vala, szive
keserűségében evé mindennapi kenyerét s csak a szükség
ellenállhatlan philosophiája tarthatá őt vissza helyén, mely
érzeményei- s meggyőződéseivel egyaránt ellentétben állt. De mit
vala tennie? hisz Erzsébet legalább boldognak érzé magát s itt-ott
volt egy köny, melyet letörölhetett, egyes szenvedések, melyeknek
enyhet nyújthatott e helyzetében is. Két év mult el így, midőn
egyszerre fenyegető levelek szórattak szét, melyekben az uraság
minden épületeire a vörös kakas leszállása igértetett. A vizsgálatnak
nem lett eredménye s épen pünkösd napján egyszerre csűrökön s
aklakon kívül Jónásunk háza is lángban állt. A többi tisztek lakásai
cseréppel lévén födve, kárt nem szenvedtek. A gonosztevők egyike
tetten kapatott s a statarialis biróság s később az akasztófa alatt
nyilván kimondá, hogy csak mindazon kegyetlen igazságtalanságok,
melyek rajta az uraság által elkövettettek, birták őt gonosztettére s
hogyha a tisztek előbbi bánásmódukat meg nem változtatják,
találkozni fognak utána többen is, kik rokonaik kedveért tettét
ismételni fogják.
A botrány irtóztató vala. A méltóságos földesúr, kiben a megye
egyik legfelvilágosodottabb s szabadelvűbb táblabiráját tisztelé, ki
soha templomba nem ment, soha még az esküdtet sem nevezé
máskép, mint uramöcsémnek s ha az utczán végig ment, minden
gyermeknek nyájasan arczára veregetett (később, ha ily gyermekek
lovászokká vagy más cselédekké nőttek, e veregetés velük együtt
nőtt), ily földesúr miként lehetne ily úrbéri kihágásoknak elkövetője?
Természetesen csak a tisztek egyedüli okai mindazon
elkeseredésnek, mely a jobbágyok között létezett. Itt példa kelle, azt
átlátta mindenki s leginkább a méltóságos úr maga; s mivel minden
tisztjei között nem volt senki, kihez ő méltósága kevesebb szívvel
viseltetett volna, mint Tengelyihez, miután ő vala minden tisztek
között az egyetlen, ki az igazgató világos, noha csak szóval adott
parancsainak ép az úrbéri viszonyokra nézve ellentmondott, ki
midőn a szerencsétlenség kitört, nyilván és kiméletlenül az uraság
ellen szót emelt, végre ő, kinek háza felgyujtatott s kit e szerint maga
a gyujtogató mint azt jelölte ki, ki ellen az ingerültség legmagasb
polczra hágott: semmi sem természetesebb, minthogy ismét ő
választatott áldozatul s minden kérés ellenére röviden elbocsáttatott.
Kevés butora s az, mit magának szolgálata alatt szerzett, elégett
s szegényebben, mint kiindult, tért vissza két évi fáradozás után
Porvárra, honnét annyi reménynyel távozott.
Itt kezdődik hősünk életének legszomorúbb, habár épen nem
legköltőibb szaka, mely alatt számtalan inség s önmegtagadás közt
mindennapi kenyeréért küzdött s melynek részletes leirásával
olvasóimat nem fogom fárasztani. Tengelyi kész vala mindenre,
elvállalt volna minden szolgálatot, nem irtózott semmi munkától,
hasztalan! a sors nem engedé, hogy valahol megpihenhessen. A hol
gazdasági tisztséget kért, ott utolsó szerencsétlensége, – ha pört
keresett, a taksonymegyei birák ellenségeskedése, mely miatt
minden pöreit elveszté, – ha mint nevelő ajánlkozott – majd elvei,
majd vallása, majd nyugtalan természete, mely miatt eddig nem
férhetett meg sehol, hozattak fel ellene, egy szóval, ha egy vagy
más ügyvéd helyett itt-ott replicát vagy kérelemlevelet nem ir s neje
mosás- s varrással nem keres pár forintot, Tengelyi minden
tudománya s szorgalma mellett koldulni kényszeríttetik.
Így mult el ismét három év s a mit nem csudálhatunk eléggé, a
nélkül, hogy Réty, ki azalatt apja után örökségébe lépett s alispánná
lett, barátjáért csak a legkisebbet tett volna. Annyira tisztelé barátját,
hogy őt még legnagyobb inségében sem akará valamely adomány
vagy ajándék által megsérteni; a mi pedig befolyását illeti, mely által
hősünket valamely hivatal vagy tisztséghez segíthette volna, Réty
azon ritka erényű emberek közé tartozott, kik hatalmukkal soha
barátjaik elősegítésére vissza nem élnek; s így elvei által lekötve,
azon szomorú helyzetben látá magát, nem tehetni semmit leghivebb
bajtársaért. De az akarat egyiránt erősen élt keblében s miután
Jónásunk három évig ennyi bajjal küszködve, már majdnem
lemondott minden reményről is, egyszerre ott terem kis szobájában
a nemeslelkű alispán s tudtára adva, hogy a tiszaréti jegyző meghalt,
kéri, nem vállalná-e el hivatalát? nemeslelkűségének túlzásában
annyira menve, hogy valamint az azelőtti jegyzőt, úgy őt is a
hivatallal összekötött telekre nézve fölmenti minden úrbéri
tartozásoktól.
Jónás megköszöné Réty gondoskodását s még azon héten
kiment Tiszarétre, hol őt történetünk kezdetén, mint e helységnek
húsz éven át hivataloskodott jegyzőjét, ősz fürtökkel, de még testi- s
lelkikép ép erőben találjuk.
Ha olvasóim ezen időről valami érdekest kívánnak tudni,
legfölebb azt említhetem, hogy Tengelyi pár évvel történetünk előtt
Tiszaréten egy kis curialis házat s fundust vásárolva magának,
jegyzőségén kívül gazdasággal foglalatoskodott; hogy egy leánya,
Vilma s fia, Pista született, kikkel mint az egész környék legszebb
leányával s legpajkosabb fiával nemsokára megismerkedünk; hogy
Erzsébet asszony egy idő óta jóval többet pöröl s Jónásnak Rétyvel
való barátsága főkép az utolsó követválasztás óta igen elhidegült.
Más érdekest nem mondhatok. Tengelyi e hosszú idő alatt nem
változott; annyi szenvedés kissé elkeseríté, de azon
igazságszeretet, melyet rajta ifjúkorában láttunk, a bátorság,
melylyel minden elnyomás, minden törvénytelenség ellen fölszólalt,
ugyanazok maradtak s Erzsébet asszonynak igaza volt, ha fejét
csóválva azt mondá, hogy férje soha megokosodni vagy valamire
menni nem fog.
Tengelyinek már külseje is tiszteletet gerjesztett, de még inkább
nevelé ezen érzeményt a komolyság, vagy hogy úgy mondjam,
ünnepélyesség, mely e férfiú magaviseletét legszorosabb házi
körében is jellemzé s mely által, ha társasága kellemetlenné vált is,
a falusi jegyző azon megvető barátság kitöréseitől őrizteték meg,
melyekkel leereszkedés neve alatt sok becsületes ember felsőbbek
által annyira kínoztatik. Felsőbbekkel, kik által a megyei nemességre
gyakorlott befolyása végett fölkerestetett, senki az udvariasság
szabályait szigorúbban meg nem tartá, de senki hidegebb
közönyösséggel nem viszonozhatá barátságukat. – Felsőbbjeink –
így szóla többször – minket alsóbbakat csak annyiban becsülnek,
mennyiben hasznunkat vehetik, mi őket, csak a mennyiben tőlük
félünk; én nekik használni nem akarok, félni nincs okom, miért
fogadjam hát, vagy keressem barátságukat? – Hogy Tengelyinek
ezen tulajdona neki barátokat nem szerzett, azt olvasóim könnyen
átláthatják. A felsőbb osztályok, midőn az alsóbbak legaljasabb
hibáit magokévá teszik, eléggé leereszkednek; ki vehetné nekik
rossz néven, hogy legalább tulajdon hibáikat, minő a büszkeség,
másokban tűrni nem akarják. De falusi jegyzőnél, ki befolyása által,
melyet a nemességre gyakorol, hivatalában biztosnak érzi magát s a
kis házat, melyben lakik, mint nemesi tulajdont birja, én függetlenebb
teremtést nem ismerek. Így hősöm nyugodt lélekkel nézheté
mindazon neheztelést, mely az alispántól az utolsó esküdtig
majdnem minden kebelben ellene forraltatott. Tengelyi egyike vala
azoknak, kik – mint mondani szokta – Cæsaroknak vagy falusi
jegyzőknek születtek; azaz, ha véletlenül Cæsarokká nem lettek, a
jegyzőségnél magasabbra emelkedni nem tudnak s ő rég nem
vágyódott más után, mint a mivel birt, – meggyőződésből, mint maga
mondá, vagy kénytelenségből, mint ellenei hirdeték, én nem
mondhatom; de józanul mindenesetre, mert azon út, melyen
magasra haladhatunk, nem olyan, hogy az által, ki azt meghajlott
fővel keresni nem akarja, föltaláltathatnék. De valamint Tengelyinek
ezen hibái vagy jó tulajdonai (nem tudom minek nevezzem s
olvasóimra bízom e fölötte kétséges tárgy elhatározását, mely
bizonyosan a szerint fog történni, a mint az alispánhoz vagy falusi
jegyzőhöz állnak közelebb) őt előljárói előtt gyülöletessé tevék: úgy
nem vala talán az egész ország jegyzői közt egy sem, ki azon nép
között, melynek ügyei rá bizattak, annyi népszerűséggel birna, mint
ő. Voltak itt is, kik elveinek túlvitt szigorúságát rossz néven vevék s
azon fellengző igazságszeretetet, melylyel minden jó ügyet
személytekintet nélkül pártola, sokallák. De végre Tiszaréten s tíz
mérföldre a környékben nem volt talán ember, ki Tengelyiről el nem
mondaná, hogy becsületes ember; s ez legbizonyosabb jele annak,
hogy csakugyan az volt, mert valamint nagy körökben semmi sem
csalódik többször, mint a közvélemény, úgy egy falu szűk korlátai
közé szorítva biztosan építhetünk reá. A szinhely nagyságával
nőnek a csalódások, kis szinpadon csak azon hibák nem vétetnek
észre, melyek nem léteznek.
Szorosabb barátságban azonban Tengelyi csak egy férfival állott,
Vándory Boldizsárral, kivel őt olvasóim most a Török-dombon
először láták. S e barátság vala az, mi életének egyik fő örömét tevé.
Vándory s Tengelyi egyébiránt a legkülönbözőbb emberek
valának, a kiket csak elképzelhetünk s ép ez vala talán oka
változhatatlan barátságuknak. Ugyanazon tulajdonokat, melyeket
magunk birunk, csak egyszer, azaz önmagunkban szoktuk szeretni.
E két barát hajlamai s tulajdonságai kiegészíték egymást. Mintegy
azért látszának egymás mellé állítva, hogy bennök mindent, mi
emberi kebelt nemesíthet, egymás mellett találjunk. Tengelyi
szigorúsága után, melylyel az emberekről szólt, Vándory derült
életnézete, ki mindennek jó oldalát kiemelve, mindenben valamit
talált, mit szeretnie lehessen, jóltevő vigasztalásként hatott reád.
Ötven éves koráig mindenki vagy kibékült, vagy
megboszankodott a sokaságra; s ha oly férfinál, ki, mint Tengelyi,
többször szorult barátaira, ez utóbbi történt, nincs mit bámulni s
nincs mit neheztelni, főkép ha e szigorúság csak az elméletben
létezik s így volt ez Tengelyinél. Ki őt beszélni hallva, azon
ingerültséget, melylyel minden gonoszról szólt, összehasonlítá
tetteivel, meggyőződhetett, hogy irgalmasabb férfi széles e világon
nem volt annál, ki önmagát minden gonosz kérlelhetlen üldözőjének
hirdeté. Ne vádolják azonban olvasóim következetlenséggel e férfiút,
főkép a fiatalabbak ne, kik éltökből még csak föltételeiket ismerve,
nem tudják, mennyi erényeket vesztünk az életben, mihelyt
gyakorlásukra alkalmunk jutott. Ezer ember közt alig van egy, ki nem
épen azon tulajdonokról szólna legtöbbet s legszivesebben,
melyeket nem bir s nem ép azon dolgokra nézve szerezte volna a
legtisztább elveket magának, melyekre nézve érzi, hogy ily elvekre
szüksége van. Gyávák bátorságról, rossz birák részrehajlatlanságról,
önzők a hazáról szólnak legszivesebben; miért ne tárhatna ki jámbor
jegyzőm is néha szigorú elveket? Nyugodtan eltűrjük az
alávalóságot, szenvedjük, sőt néha kedveljük a legocsmányabb
erkölcstelenséget, ha kellemes alakban közelít hozzánk, miért ne
volnánk engedékenyek az erény kis hibái iránt? Ha tetsző formába
nem öntetett is, azért senki sem taszítja el magától az aranyat s nem
panaszkodik senki, hogy terhes elhordani vállain.
Vándoryról csak keveset mondhatok; azon idő óta, melyet mint
lelkész Tiszaréten töltött, hol hősünknél pár évvel előbb telepedett le,
nyugodt egyenlőségben folytak napjai. Multjáról mást nem tudunk,
minthogy Heidelbergben tanult s hogy ott, noha majdnem tíz évvel
idősebb s theologus, mégis egyedül Tengelyivel társalkodott.
Családjáról s gyermekkoráról soha nem beszélt. Azon, hogy magyar,
senki sem kételkedett, ki őt szólni hallá s ki Tiszarétre jövén, az agg
lelkészt ott látta hivei között, apának hinné gyermekei körében, annyi
tisztelet környezi a jámbor öreget, annyi szeretet mosolyg arczain
mindenkinek elébe. Maga a Réty-család osztozott e köztiszteletben
s talán nem volt ember, ki ez oly büszke házban annyi tekintélylyel
birt, mint Tiszarét szerény lelkésze.
Ez az, mit hőseim mult életéről mondani szükségesnek tarték. Ha
hosszasabb voltam s valakit olvasóim közül untattam, gondolja meg,
hogy nem éltem azon irói jogommal, mely szerint őt hosszú
előszóval vendégelhettem volna meg s ne tegye azért félre
könyvemet. Regényem csak az élet képe akar lenni s az nem lehet
mindig mulatságos.
 Már a nap lealkonyodott s csak még néhány piros felleg jelölé a
helyet, hol az eltünt, midőn a barátok a faluhoz értek s Vándory jó
éjtszakát kívánva, Jónástól elvált.
Hősünk magánosan s meglehet, mert a törvénykezési jelenet,
melynek a Török-dombon tanuja volt, érzelmeit sérté, vagy talán
mert multjára gondolt, komorabban, mint máskor, tért házába. De
midőn a kapunál Vilmát látá, ki vigan elébe lépett s midőn kebléhez
szorítá a nyájas gyermeket, a gond, mely homlokát ránczokba voná,
eltünt s csak boldogságának érzete tölté el szivét.
Be akart menni, leánya nyájasan visszatartóztatá:
– Előbb még egy kis kérésem van – szóla mosolyogva, – míg
nem igéred, hogy teljesítni fogod, nem eresztlek be.
– S mi volna az? – kérdé Jónás jókedvűen simogatva leánya
arczát.
– Hogy meg nem haragszol – felelé Vilma kérőleg.
– Én – s ugyan miért?
– Tudtod nélkül tettünk valamit.
– Ha csak az, hogy meg nem haragszom – szóla Tengelyi
nevetve, – azt megigérem.
– És hogy helybe fogod hagyni.
– Ez más kérdés, de ha te tevéd – folytatá mosolyogva, – legyen
megigérve ez is.
S apa és leány bementek a házba, boldogan s meg kell vallani,
jegyzőnk részéről nem minden kiváncsiság nélkül.
 III.

Tiszarét helységében, hová a jegyzővel s lelkészszel mi is

visszatérünk, azalatt csend és béke uralkodik. Egyes munkások, kik
a mezőről haza térve, kaszával vállaikon házaik felé ballagnak, itt-ott
pár csevegő szomszéd a kapuk előtt, vagy egy gyermekcsoport az
utcza közepén, porban játszva, ez minden, mit észrevehetünk s mi
felett az estharang elzengi dalát, lassú kongásokban, mintha fáradva
volna ő is s félig szunnyadozva mondaná el esti imádságát. Maga a
korcsma, hol máskor vigan folyt a táncz s Iczik zsidó jó áron, de
hitelbe, még nem termett gabonáért méré borát, ma üresen állt; s ha
a csapszék ajtaján benézünk, csak a Rétyek cseh kertészét s Ákos
vadászát látjuk, kik, mint Izráel a pusztában Egyiptom hústálaira, híg
italok mellett hazájok jobb sörére emlékeznek. Ugyanazon csendet
találjuk az uraság udvarában is, mely köztudomás szerint hazánkban
a korcsma után a legzajosabb hely. Az úrfi, mint tudjuk, kutyáival
együtt agarászni ment. Az alispán a főügyészszel s jegyzővel
szobájába zárkózott s kétségen kívül igen fontos tárgyakról
beszélgetne, ha a közelgő est homálya s talán maga a beszédnek
fárasztó fontossága álomba nem szenderíti mindnyájokat. A teins
vagy nagyságos alispánné pedig, ki mint csattogány a berket, e
házat máskor mindig eltölti szavával s e kedves madártól talán csak
abban különbözik, hogy szava hangosabbá s szüntelenebbé lett,
mennyivel inkább előhaladott élte nyarában, a kertben sétál.
Kövessük őt.
A tiszarétiek kertje, mint már említém, csudája vala az egész
vidéknek. Remeteház, szilvaaszaló, templom formára épült
galambház, halastó s hozzá halászkunyhó, barlang, parasztház stb.,
– mert ki mondhatná el egyszerre a Rétyek képzelet- s
szeszélyeinek fényes eredményeit, melyek a szerencsés utast, ki
kertökben körüljárhata, nem szünő meglepésben tarták. Mindezeket
bámulni lehet, leirni nem. A kertnek legtávolabb részét mintegy húsz
holdas erdő foglalá el, melyet a teins alispán úr már rég kivágatott
volna, ha a főispán – ki megszállva Rétyéknél, ez erdőt dicséré
leginkább – a tiszteletreméltó magas nyársudarakat nem menti meg
urok kertészi izlésétől. A magas nyárfák messzeterjedő ágai s
alattok a bokroknak egymásba font zöldje valóságos vadont
képezének, hová a dél forró sugára nem hatott; s ha a tizennyolcz
tálas ebéd után visszavonulhatál, itt félórára legalább szabadnak,
nyugodtnak érezhetéd magad. Ez erdőben csak egy út volt, mely
számtalan tekervényekben rajta keresztül vagy inkább körülvezetett
s ez az, melyen most Rétyné ő nagyságát leghivebb szolgájával,
Macskaházy ügyvéd úrral, a legfontosabb beszélgetésben találjuk.
Októberben vagyunk, az estharangot is hallottuk már, mint
olvasóim talán emlékezni fognak, e mellett még erdőben járunk, hol
nappal is minden homályosabb s azért olvasóim természetesnek
fogják találni, ha személyeink részletes leirásába nem ereszkedem,
mit én, főkép Rétyné ő nagyságára nézve, úgy is nem szivesen
tennék. Ha azonban nappal volna, olvasóim láthatnák, hogy Rétyné
negyven és ötven között, azaz azon korban áll, melyet negyvenen
túllévő emberek a férfikor legszebb idejének tartanak s mely e
szerint ily férfias asszonynál is talán a legszebbnek nevezhető.
Termete magas s mint egyéb birtoka, szépen arrondirozott. Haja –
de ehhez mindaddig, míg olvasóim őt főkötő nélkül nem látják, mi
alig fog történni, jóformán közünk sincs – az erős szemöldek s
gyönge bajszocska szerint ítélve, hihetőkép fekete. Arcza csupa
nagyságos méltóság, néha s pedig elég csudálatosan, harmincz
hónap után visszatérő s hat hónapig tartó időszakokban, midőn a
tisztujítás közeledik, szerfölött nyájas és leereszkedő; egyébkor
fölséges büszkeségű, mit két hatalmas szemölcs még inkább nevel;
egyike felső ajkának jobbik oldalán, mely arczának, még ha
mosolyog is, megvető kifejezést ád, másika álla fölött. Királynőnek
gondolnád, ha a megyei hajdú, ki mellette áll, nem intene, hogy
alispánnéval szólsz. Rétyné dáma volt a szó legszorosabb
értelmében. Háztartása pompás, ebédei soha két óránál nem
rövidebbek, udvara telve apró marhával s vendégekkel, melyeknek
előkelőbbjei a legpontosabb szolgálatot találják. Ha beszélni hallod,
valamely gazdag forrásnál képzelheted magadat, mely nem szünő
futásban minden tárgyakon elárad. Szava hatalmas és csengő, hogy
Jerikó falai rengenének s az egész háznép elhalványul hallatára. Az,
a mit mond, bámulásra gerjeszt minden elfogulatlant, nemcsak mert
majdnem szóról-szóra ugyanaz, mit az alispán mondani szokott s
ezen házassági egyetértés romlott korunkban csudálkozásra méltó,
hanem főkép azon mély juridicus tudomány által, melyet napjainkban
már magyar asszonyoknál is csak ritkán találhatni s mely az
asszonynak oly különös bájt s kellemet ad. Nem vala ügyvéd széles
e hazában, ki törvényes tárgyakról szivesebben s többet szólott
volna, mint Rétyné s annyi tudománynyal s mélységgel, hogy
Macskaházy úr sokszor megvallá, miként legjobb replikáit egészen ő
nagysága tanácsa szerint készíté.
Ez utóbbi, kit most kegyes uraságával az erdőben sétálva
találunk, mintegy ötven s hatvan év között lehet; alacsony, száraz
férfiúcska, kit inkább hosszú megszokás, mint évek terhe hajtott
meg. Halvány arcz, hegyes orr s áll, bizonytalanul tekintgető szem,
melylyel csak néha s mintegy véletlenül találkozol, de mely szuró
tekintetét azonnal elvonja, mihelyt észrevétetett s kopaszság által
nagyított homloka, melyet néhány ritka ősz fürt környeze, oly
egészet képezének, mely előtt minden ember – a Réty-családot
természetesen kivéve – rosszul érzé magát. E családnak hivebb
embere nem volt. Közel harmincz évet töltött a háznál s annyi jó és
rossz napokban részesült, hogy szinte a család egyik tagjává vált s
érdekeit talán állhatatosabban védé, mint a család maga. Csupa
haszonvágyból, mint ellenei hivék, valódi hajlandóságból, mint Réty
gondolá s ki tudja, némi tekintetben talán igaza volt mind ennek,
mind amazoknak. Az ember oly csudálatos vegyüléke a jó és rossz
tulajdonságoknak, hogy alig van, ki sokáig alávaló czél után
fáradhatna a nélkül, hogy valami jobb érzemény ne támadjon
keblében, valamint ritka az, kinek nemes indokai közé ne vegyülne
előbb-utóbb egy kis haszonvágy, hiúság, vagy más, ehhez hasonló
nemtelenebb anyag is; s meglehet, hogy Macskaházynak is előbb
csak szinlelt ragaszkodása utóbb valódi érzeménynyé változott, de
nem engem illet ítélni az ember fölött.
 Most azonban az egyetértés, mely Rétyné s hű ügyvéde közt
létezett, úgy látszik, meg vala zavarva. Az alispánné sebes léptekkel
s látszó fölgerjedésben jára föl s alá a fák alatt, Macskaházy egy
lépéssel hátrább s a szokottnál még inkább meghajolva követé
hatalmas asszonyát; csak néha egy-egy engesztelő szót szőve
felingerült beszédei közé, de a mint látszék, kevés sikerrel, mert
amaz nyughatatlanul rázá fejét ily félbeszakasztásoknál, mondva,
hogy beszélni könnyű s hogy jól tudja úgy is, miként Macskaházy
senkit sem enged szóhoz jutni, de hogy a valódi hűség csak tettek
által bizonyulhat be s több efféléket.
– S én nyiltan megmondom önnek – mondá végre Rétyné, ki a
szüntelen beszélgetés vagy járás miatt fáradtan megállt s szemeit a
kis ügyvédre szegezve napernyőjével a földet üté, – az, mit ön
mond, engem kétségbeejt.
– De mikor mondom nagysádnak – viszonzá Macskaházy, ki mint
látszék hasonlókép kétségbeeséshez közelgett, habár egészen más
okból, – hogy erre semmi ok nincs, hogy kétségen kívül – –
– Oh tudjuk, – szakítá félbe az alispánné, – hogy ön kétségbe
esni nem fog; mit bánja ön a mi bajainkat. Ha koldusbotra jutunk,
vagy az egész világ előtt meggyaláztatunk, ön azért ügyvéd marad s
ki tudja talán – –
Macskaházy sértve érezé magát s miután türelme elfogyott,
véletlenül azon nagy találmányt tevé, melyet a társas életben oly
fölötte jól használhatunk, hogy szenvedély ellen csak hasonló
szenvedélylyel léphetünk föl sikerrel. A harag, melylyel most szólt,
sokkal inkább hatott Rétyné kitöréseire, mintha a világ minden
philosophjainak okoskodásaival lép föl ellenök. – S hát ez a
köszönet, – szólt a kis ügyvéd nemes haragjában, – ez a hála,
melyet harmincz éves szolgálatimért érdemeltem? A család disze s
becsülete fentartásáért én, Macskaházy Ádám, fejemet
koczkáztattam s köszönetül gyanusítást találok.
 – Az, mit ön mond, engem kétségbeejt.

– Ne vegye fel úgy ön – szóla közbe engesztelőleg Rétyné, ki

észrevevé, hogy kissé túlment hevében s hogy Macskaházy nem
férje, kitől válóper nélkül nem lehet megválni, – lám én asszony
vagyok és szerencsétlen viszonyaim – és –
– Asszony, asszony! az mind szép és jó, – szóla amaz, ki
észrevevé, hogy a csata rá nézve kedvezőleg fordul, – én ismerem
nagysádat, nagysád nem oly asszony, mint a többiek. A mit szól, azt
replicába tehetni. Látom jobb lesz, ha más helyet keresek
magamnak, – ügyvéd, ki a család bizodalmát elvesztette –
 – De ki mondta, hogy bizodalmunkat elvesztette? – szakítá félbe
kérőleg a nő, – mi csak önben bizunk, mit tegyünk, ha önt
elveszítjük? Azonkívül – tevé hozzá a már ellentállhatlanná vált
alispánné – ismeri igéretünket. Azon nap, mikor az irományok
kezembe jőnek, elmegyünk a káptalanhoz s az inscriptió, melyet
maga kívánt, kezében lesz.
– A mi az inscriptiót illeti, – dörmögé Macskaházy szelidebb
hangon, – Isten látja lelkemet, hogy nem azért teszem. Ám, ha
méltóságtok hű szolgálatimért, ob fidelia servitia, – felőlem
gondoskodnak, én éltem végeig meg fogom hálálni – de – –
– Hisz tudom, ön lelkéhez nem fér haszonvágy, de az inscriptió
szép s habár nem éri is föl azon szolgálatot, melyet családomnak
tesz, mégis szép osztályrész.
– Melyet bizonyosan meg fogok érdemleni, habár még száz
akadály gördülne is elémbe, – szóla nemes lelkesedéssel
Macskaházy.
– S valóban azt gondolja, kedves barátom? – sóhajtá az
alispánné, – én kételkedem.
– S miért? Mert az első próbatét nem sikerült? Gyermekség!
Minden jól s helyesen vala elkészülve, ki tehet róla, hogy az ég ez
egyszer nem kedvezett. Az ember, ki Vándorynál betört, biztos és
ügyes. Mondám neki, hogy ne csak az irásokat, melyeket nagysád
kívánt, hanem pénzt s egyéb valamit érő dolgokat is vigyen el
magával, azért, hogy a dolog közönséges lopásnak látszassék s
reánk semmi gyanú ne háromoljon. Ez volt oka, hogy az egész nem
sült el. A szerencsétlen tolvaj csak néhány garast találva az
asztalfiókban, több pénzt keresett. Az alatt a tiszteletes visszajött s
lármát ütött, még mielőtt Czifra az irásokhoz juthatott. A tolvaj az
ablakon ugrott ki s így illant el – Vándory nem véteté űzőbe, mint
másnap mondá: mert félt, hogy statarium alá kerülne; s így látni,
hogy néha a philanthropiának is vannak hasznai. – Az iratok most
Tengelyinél vannak, mint az öreg szolgálótól tudom, a nagy
vasládában az ajtó mellett, hol a jegyző a maga s a község
irományait tartja; s ne féljen nagysád, megtaláljuk azokat ott is. Sőt
még szeretem, így két legyet ütünk egy csapásra, úgy is Tengelyivel
van még egy kis számolásom.
– Remegek – szóla az alispánné, – a jegyző háza teli van
emberekkel, hátha a tolvajt megfogják.
– Fölakasztatjuk – szóla közönyösen Macskaházy – hisz
statariumunk van.
– És ha az egészet megvallja?
– Nem fogja megvallani. Azt igérjük neki, hogy ha hallgat,
bántása nem lesz; ha pedig – tevé hozzá a kis ügyvéd enyelgő
hangon – mégis vallani akarna, nem lesz rá ideje; fölakasztatjuk,
minekelőtte vallhatna.
– Oh ha tudná ön, – szóla Rétyné sóhajtva, szinte érzelgő
hangon, – mennyit küzdék, míg e lépésre határozám magam,
mennyit szenvedek még most is, ha arra gondolok, hogy – – –. De ki
tehet róla? nevem becsülete, gyermekeim java, – minden, mi az
életben kedves s neki becset ád, kényszerítnek –
– Mit nem tesz az anya gyermekeiért – viszonzá meghatva
Macskaházy, midőn szemeit törlé, a sötétségben könyekre nem
levén szüksége, – mily szív lakik nagysád keblében, azt csak én
tudom. Ha tudná a világ, leborulna előtte.
– Isten mentsen – szakítá félbe ügyvéde lelkesedését Rétyné, ki
egyébiránt nem vevé kedvetlenül óriási hizelgéseit s örült, midőn
hallá, hogy egy kis ügyvédi ügyességgel tette, melyet a pór lopásnak
nevezne, nemes feláldozásnak tekinthető, – Isten mentsen, hogy e
tettről kivülünk más valaki tudjon. A világ kegyetlen ítéletében, ki
tudja, nem mondaná-e – – – S itt az alispánné elakadt, talán
bámulatában, mert érzé, hogy arcza pirulni kezd.
– Ugyan miért kínozza magát nagysád? – szóla közbe
Macskaházy, földesasszonya zavarodását észrevéve, – mi rossz van
az egészben, a mit teszünk? Egy kis irományelsikkasztás, – oly
dolog, mely naponként történik, – s mely Magyarországban oly
közönséges, hogy legfelebb az által, ki magát sértve érzi, tartatik
különösnek. Hányszor nem hallotta nagysád, hogy egész perek
vesztek el, nem hónapos vagy éves, hanem harmincz éven át
vastagra nőtt perek, minden irományokkal együtt, s mi lett belőle?
Keresték s végre, ha lehetett, újhoz fogtak, s nem szólt senki felőle.
Hát még ez esetben? Kötelezvényeket orzunk-e el, vagy fassiókat,
vagy donatiót? Isten ments! közönséges magánleveleket, melyeket
nagy részben maga a nagyságos úr irt s melyeket épen mert családi
dolgokat érdekelnek, más kezekben hagyni nem akar. A dolog maga
egészen ártatlan, legfelebb módja ellen lehetnének kifogások.
– Igen, igen, de a mód, – sóhajta az alispánné – háztörés, rablás,
mit tudom én, mily iszonyú neveket fognak adni az egésznek.
– Igen, háztörés, rablás, – szóla nyugodtan a tudományos jurista,
– mennyiben az egész a tett elkövetőjét illeti, de mi közünk hozzá?
Ha valaki más embernek, kit épen szentnek senki sem mond, de ki
most büntető per alatt nem áll, s ki mellett e szerint a «jus connatum
bonae existimationis» szól, beszéd közt elmondja, hogy tiszteletes
Vándory hálószobájában nagy diófaszekrény áll, melynek felső fiókja
jobb oldalánál bepecsételt s zöld szalaggal összekötött iratcsomó
van, melyet ő – t. i. a szóló – annyira szeretne látni, kiváncsiságból
vagy tudományos czélokból vagy akármiért, hogy annak, ki azt neki
elhozza, száz forintot adna, kérdem, van-e ebben valami vétkes
vagy épen büntetésre méltó? Kétségen kívül nincs. S most megyek
tovább: ha ugyanazon ember, például mondjuk A., a másiknak, B-
nek, még azonfelül azt beszéli, hogy a tiszteletes úr szombaton
estve az udvarban vacsorál, s hogy mivel kertfelőli ajtaját bezárni
nem szokta, félni lehet, hogy egyszer valaki estve a kertfalon át
minden akadály nélkül házába mehet, azután háló szobájába s így a
szekrényhez, melynek felső fiókja jobb oldalán fekszenek az iratok,
ismétlem, ha valaki mindezt csak úgy beszélgetés között elmondja –
van-e ebben valami vétkesebb az első beszélgetésnél? S ha később
ezen egyed B., ki mellett a jus bonae existimationis szólt, betör s az
iratcsomót kezembe adja: én törtem be, én raboltam a
tiszteletesnél? Nem volna-e bolond, ki ezt mondani merészlené? A
mit igértem, azt megteszem, a száz forintot kifizetem, mert
természetesen szavát megtartani minden becsületes embernek
kötelessége, a többihez közöm nincs.
 – Igaz, igaz, – sóhajta Rétyné, ki lelkiismeretét ez okok által
teljesen megnyugtatva érezé, – de a világ nem így okoskodik!
– A világ mindig ferdén ítélt, s így fog ítélni az utolsó ítéletig, s ez
kétségen kívül az első leend, mely általánosan elfogadtatik, – szóla
komolyan Macskaházy, ki mint jó reformált, theologiával szivesen
fűszerezé beszélgetéseit. – Az úgynevezett erényes embereknek
egyik mesterségök az, hogy legszebb oldalukat fordítják kifelé. Ne
féljen nagysád, erről a közönség beszélni nem fog.
– Ha az iratok még Vándorynál volnának, elhinném, – viszonzá
Rétyné, – de most Tengelyinél a falu házában, hol annyi ember jár-
kel, hol éjjel őr áll, kételkedem.
– Azt bizza nagysád reám; az iratok a vasládában vannak, ez
elég; a vasládának csak két kulcsa van, s mennyi lakatos e világon!
– – Itt Macskaházy gondolatfolyamát Ákos vizslája szakítá félbe, ki
urát megelőzve, Rétynéhez szaladt, s hizelkedve ugrándozék
körülte.
– A vadászok hazajöttek – szóla Rétyné, – menjünk. – Már
indulni akartak, midőn a vizsla egyszerre a sürűnek fordulva, ugatni
kezd. Az ágak közt gyönge csörgés hallatszik, a kutya ugatva a
bokrok közé szalad, s észrevehetni, hogy valaki az ágakon keresztül
tör. Végre a vizsla fölsikolt s jajgatva sántán tér vissza az
előbbiekhez, ép midőn Ákos Etelka testvérével hozzájuk lép.
– Mi a baj? – kérdé Ákos, mostohájának kezét csókolva, ki
azalatt hiv ügyvédével együtt néma rémülésben állt.
– Nem hallottál semmit? – kérdé remegő hangon emez.
– Igen, vizslám ugatott, talán nyúl vagy róka.
– Nem, nem, tekintetes uram – viszonzá Macskaházy, még
mindig arra szögezve szemeit, hol a zaj eltünt, – fejemet teszem rá,
hogy ember.
– Meglehet, szegény ficzkó a faluból, – szólt Ákos, vizsláját
simogatva, – ki megtudta, hogy holnap gyümölcsöt szedünk, s még
egyszer használni akarta az alkalmat, s az egész idő alatt, melyet
rejtekében töltött, hihetőkép ép úgy remegett, mint most barátom
uram. Ej, be merész ember ön; a franczia közmondás szerint a bátor
csak a veszély után ijed meg, s ezt soha sem láttam oly mértékben,
mint most.
– Ez az ember hallgatózott, minden kérdésen kívül csak azért
jött, hogy hallgatódzzék, – szóla közbe aggodalmasan Rétyné, míg
Macskaházy, karját taszítva, vigyázatra figyelmezteté.
– Nem hiszem – szóla Etelka nevetve. – Macskaházy igen
mulatságos úri ember, de alig hiszem, hogy valaki, csak hogy
beszélgetni hallja, októberben ide a hüvösbe álljon.
– Édes Etelka kisasszony, magácska azt nem érti, – válaszolt az
ügyvéd, kihez nyugalmával egész ildomossága visszatért, – ő
nagyságával fontos dolgokról, pereinkről szóltunk.
– És hihetőkép az ellenfél ügyvéde azért rejté magát el e fák
alatt, hogy mesteri fogásait előre kitudja, nemde? – szakítá félbe
Ákos nevetve a szólót. – De ha annyira szivén fekszik, miért nem
fogta el a zsiványt? Tekintetes s vitézlő Macskaházy úr megbirkózik
tízzel, s azt hallám, csak egy volt – – –
– Én? – kiálta föl Macskaházy elrémülve már a gondolatnál – én
magam?
– S miért ne? De jőjjön velem, most ketten vagyunk; ha
csakugyan volt itt valaki, mit még most sem hiszek, elfogjuk; ha nem,
jót kaczagunk.
– De kérem domine spectabilis – szólt zavarodva Macskaházy,
kit Ákos kezénél fogva maga után húzott – így fegyvertelenül, sötét
éjszaka, mégis jobb lenne, ha cselédeket hínánk.
– Hova gondol – nevete Ákos, – hisz míg cselédeket találunk,
gonosztevőnk tízszer megszökik. Csak bátran barátom, anyám
Etelkával addig haza megy, mi pedig regényes kalandunkban járunk
el; s győzünk vagy – – – elszaladunk. Nemde barátocskám? – tevé
nevetve hozzá, – ha csak ijedtünkben a guta meg nem üt.
 Macskaházy, ki még mindig annyira el vala rémülve, hogy e
tréfákon megharagudni eszébe sem jutott, csak némely észrevételt
rebegett: mennyivel jobb s czélszerűbb volna cselédeket vinni
magokkal! De miután Rétyné is kéré őt, hogy menjen Ákossal, s
miután mint ildomos ember kiszámítá, hogy az üldözendő
gonosztevő hihetőleg utólérhetetlen, a kis ügyvéd nagy merészen
begombolá felső ruháját, s azon ünnepélyes óvással, hogy mi őt
illeti, ő nem fél, Ákos után elindult.
Rétyné s Etelka, amaz aggodalmak közt, ez Macskaházy
félelmén kaczagva, hazafelé indultak s a vizsla, hihetőkép az
erdőben tett kellemetlen tapasztalásaira emlékezve, ura helyett most
az egyszer őket követé.
A bátorságnak különböző nemei között, melyek egyenlő
mértékben senkinek sem tulajdonai, Macskaházy ép azt birá
legkevésbbé, mely zsiványok elfogására szükséges, s habár nem
merném állítani, hogy félt, legalább annyit mondhatok, hogy nem
igen kellemetes helyzetben érzé magát. Képzelje ugyanis magát
valaki helyébe. Macskaházy járatos vala a törvény
legtekervényesebb ösvényein, s a homálynak nem épen ellensége,
de ily út, milyenen most vékony lábacskái botorkáltak, ennyi tőke s
ág, mely járását egy hosszú botlássá tevé, fölülmulta képzetét,
valamint azon sötétség is, mely az erdő sűrű lombja alatt a
haladókat körülfogá. Gondoljuk ehhez, hogy Ákos fiatalsága
hevében az úton inkább szaladt, mint ment, úgy hogy ügyvédünk
minden erőlködése mellett alig követheté vezetőjét, ki minden
kimélet nélkül törve az ágakon keresztül, hű követőjét szünni nem
akaró vesszőzés processusán vezeté keresztül. Más alkalommal
Macskaházy megemlékezve nemeslevelére, nem tűrte volna e
bánásmódot, most, miután szerény észrevételeire, melyeket e
rohanó haladás ellen megvesszőzött arcza tekintetéből tett, csak azt
nyeré válaszul: maradjon valamivel hátrább, hallgatott; s minden
verés, botlás daczára nem maradt hátrább egy lépéssel sem, hanem
néma méltóságban, mint a haldokló római, köpenyegével takarva
arczát, nyomban követé Ákost, azon gondolattal bátorítá magát,
hogy ily sötétben puskával senkit sem lehet eltalálni, azon esetben
pedig, ha véletlen szerencsétlenségből mégis találkoznának keresett
ellenökkel, ő Ákosnak segítséget szerezni azonnal haza szalad. Erre
azonban nem nagy valószínűség mutatkozott. Sötét éjszaka, zárt s
még e felett kék köpönyeggel takart szemekkel, még oly ügyes
ember, mint Macskaházy ügyvéd úr, sem lát igen tisztán; Ákos
pedig, mint látszik, barátja kedveért csak a legsűrűbb helyeket
keresi, s a zajt hallva, melyet követőjén a visszacsapó ágak tevének,
oly jó kedvben érzi magát, hogy e perczben senkinek, habár a világ
legnagyobb zsiványa volna, kellemetlenséget okozni nem akarna.
Negyedórai keresés után az erdőszélhez érve, Ákos végre
megállt s midőn Macskaházyhoz fordult, ki szemeit fölnyitva ismét
lélekzetet vett, így szólt: – Az erdőben nincs senki, arra esküt
tehetünk, itt nem látszik s nem hallatszik egy emberi teremtésnek
legkisebb nyoma, most talán csak elhiszi, hogy csalódott, s legfölebb
nyúl volt, mi előtt annyira elrémült.
– Egészen úgy tetszett, mintha emberlépteket hallanának, édes
anyja ő nagysága is megesküdnék reá.
– Ha úgy van – viszonzá Ákos, alig tartva vissza nevetését, –
menjünk még egyszer vissza, két vagy három sűrű helyet tudok, hol
még nem voltunk, talán ott van – –
– Dehogy van – sóhajta fel Macskaházy, Ákost, ki már
visszafordult, feltartva, – ha egy egér lenne is ott, ráhágtunk volna,
annyira keresztül-kasul jártunk, alig birnak lábaim, – s a kis ügyvéd
sóhajtozva törülé homloka izzadtságát.
– Jól van, – mondá Ákos, – ha azt hiszi, hogy az erdőben nincs,
menjünk itt a kert körül, talán másik oldalán találunk valakit, itt
minden csendes. – S ezzel Ákos átugrott az árkon, Macskaházy
előbb az árok közepébe, azután pár csodálatraméltó gymnastikus
evolutióval föl másik oldalára mászott, s a két kereső némán haladva
egymás mellett, rövid idő után a kert szögleténél fölfelé a fák által
eltakartatik szemeink előtt.
Minden hallgat. Az éj sötét s kedvetlen, mint októberben lenni
szokott. A tiszta napnyugot után mindig több fellegek vonulnak össze
a láthatáron, s a téren hosszú sóhajokban lejt át az őszi szél, hideg