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| Dot
& The Mystery Of Dendringham Hall |
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Chasing the clues on a journey back in time |
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Gulp!
“Er… THIS room?” said Dot.
Brush, brush, brush.
“Well that’s what they do say, but it’s all a terrible long time ago, like I say” said Rosie.
“THAT bed?” said Dot, pointing.
“Oh NO, bless you miss” laughed Rosie. “That’un’s from that posh London store, what’s it called now… oh yes the Army and Navy, that’s it. Came just after I got here meself, and that wasn’t but a year or two past.”
Relief, thought Dot.
“So… what happened next?”
“Well poor Sir Tom was squashed flat like I said” Rosie went on. “Killed stone dead! And him such a good-looking man, too! Anyways, wicked Sir Crispin come and took his money and then him and Silas Fetch who was Head Gardener in them days, they got the body away and buried him in the grounds, poor soul.”
Brush, brush.
“Black Sir Crispin always shared the money with Silas to keep him quiet, see?”
“So was that the end of it?” asked Dot. She was beginning to feel kind of sleepy and relaxed with the soft, regular brushing that Rosie was giving her hair.
“Oh NO, miss” said Rosie. “Far from the end of it indeed. In them days, folks travelling often went missing – never heard of again. And there was no way of finding out what happened – no police then, and the country hereabouts was a wild and lawless place. That’s how wicked Sir Crispin got away with it for so long…”
Brush, brush, brush…
Rosie chuckled. “But he reckoned without Sir Thomas’ mother – old Lady Isobel. She came a-looking for him all right – all on her own, walking on foot mile after mile, for she’d given Sir Thomas the family money so’s he’d make a grand show at the court when he met Queen Bess. All gone, now the poor young man was killed and robbed. And he her first-born, her only son.”
Brush, brush, brush…
“She came a–walking up the path to the house one day – for she knew Sir Thomas had said he would look in on Black Sir Crispin, for they were kith and kin, relations from way back.”
“So… what did Sir Crispin do?” asked Dot sleepily.
“Turned her right out that’s what he did, the black-hearted beast!” said Rosie angrily. “The poor old soul! But she knew what a sinful thing he’d done – she knew – because when she came that day, where should Sir Crispin be but out a-riding Wild Witch, her own son’s horse that the greedy man had tamed and kept for himself. And right as that wicked man’s servants were beating her with sticks to drive her away, she put a curse on him!”
“What did the curse say?” asked Dot, not sleepy at all now. This was getting really wild!
“Now that I do know” said Rosie, stopping her brushing for a moment. “Because cook here’s had family at Dendringham Hall since forever – handed down it’s been. The curse says this: A curse on Dendringham from this day Black Sir Crispin, blightèd be What bore my boy, will kill thee!” “Ha!” Rosie said, starting her brushing again. “Sir Crispin d’Auberley of Dendringham Hall found out soon enough! He laughed at old Lady Isobel as they drove her away, a-beating and a-shouting of her, but that night when he took Wild Witch out for a ride, the horse upped and bolted – and he fell off, but got his foot caught in the stirrup! And Wild Witch, who’d been good as gold with him till then, wouldn’t stop - and Sir Crispin was dragged over hill and over dale, mile after mile, shattered and torn and haggled so when they found him they could barely know who it was!” “So… what bore Sir Thomas, what carried him, his horse Wild Witch - did kill Black Sir Crispin!” said Dot excitedly. “Just like in Lady Isobel’s curse!” “Aye” said Rosie. “But that wasn’t all, miss – not by no means.” She paused. “For every step of the way behind where Sir Crispin had been dragged, screaming ‘is lungs out as he was bashed and smashed to death, there was a giant paw print… like from a giant beast. They saw it next day, when they followed the hoofprints of Wild Witch and found him, dead as a doornail… and with such a look of fright on his wicked face…” She stopped and swallowed. “Like a giant beast had been at his heels… or even the Devil himself, come to claim his sinful soul!” She bit her lip. “And… there was the howling too! All the servants heard it that night, and wicked Silas Fetch dropped down dead on the spot from fright at it!” “The howling?” said Dot – though she’d already guessed what Rosie meant. “Yes, the howling!” Rosie said. “It was – ” AROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Clatter! Rosie dropped the hair brush and screamed. “Like that! Just like that!”
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