Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [70]
‘There’ll be no moon tonight,’ said Susan.
‘Oh, Susan, can’t you make a moon,’ cried Nan despairingly. If she had to walk through the graveyard there must be a moon.
‘Bless the child, nobody can make moons,’ said Susan. ‘I only meant it was going to be cloudy and you could not see the moon. And what difference can it make to you whether there is a moon or not?’
That was just what Nan could not explain, and Susan was more worried than ever. Something must ail the child… she had been acting so strangely all the week. She did not eat half enough and she moped. Was she worrying about her mother. She needn’t… Mrs Doctor dear was coming on nicely.
Yes, but Nan knew that Mother would soon stop coming on nicely if she didn’t keep her bargain. At sunset the clouds rolled away and the moon rose. But such a strange moon… such a huge, blood-red moon. Nan had never seen such a moon. It terrified her. Almost would she have preferred the dark.
The twins went to bed at eight, and Nan had to wait until Di had gone to sleep. Di took her time about it. She was feeling too sad and disillusioned to sleep readily. Her chum, Elsie Palmer, had walked home from school with another girl and Di believed that life was practically ended for her. It was nine o’clock before Nan felt it safe to slip out of bed and dress with fingers that trembled so she could hardly cope with her buttons. Then she crept down and out of the side door while Susan set the bread in the kitchen and reflected comfortably that all under her charge were safe in bed except the poor Doctor, who had been summoned post-haste to a Harbour Mouth household where a baby had swallowed a tack.
Nan went out and down to Rainbow Valley. She must take the short cut through it and up the hill pasture. She knew that the sight of an Ingleside twin prowling along the road and through the village would cause wonderment and somebody would likely insist on bringing her home. How cold the early October night was! She had not thought about that and had not put on her jacket. Rainbow Valley by night was not the friendly haunt of daytime. The moon had shrunk to a reasonable size and was no longer red, but it cast sinister black shadows. Nan had always been rather frightened of shadows. Was that paddy feet in the darkness of the withered bracken by the brook?
Nan held up her head and stuck out her chin. ‘I’m not frightened,’ she said aloud valiantly. ‘It’s only my stomach feels a little queer. I’m being a heroine.’
The pleasant idea of being a heroine carried her halfway up the hill. Then a strange shadow fell over the world… a cloud was crossing the moon… and Nan thought of the Bird. Amy Taylor had once told her such a terrifying tale of a Great Black Bird that swooped down on you in the night and carried you off. Was it the Bird’s shadow that had crossed over her? But Mother had said there was no Big Black Bird. ‘I don’t believe Mother could tell me a lie… not Mother,’ said Nan… and went on until she reached the fence. Beyond was the road, and across it the graveyard. Nan stopped to get her breath.
Another cloud was over the moon. All around her lay a strange, dim, unknown land. ‘Oh, the world is too big!’ shivered Nan, crowding against the fence. If she were only back in Ingleside! But… ‘God is watching me,’ said the seven-year-old scrap… and climbed the fence.
She fell off on the other side, skinning her knee and tearing her dress. As she got to her feet a sharp weed stub pierced completely through her slipper and cut her foot. But she limped across the road to the graveyard gate.
The old graveyard lay in the shadow of the firs at its eastern end. On one side was the Methodist church, on the other the Presbyterian manse, now dark and silent during the minister