The Vampire Maid

The Vampire Maid
Hume Nisbet
It was the exact kind of abode that I had been looking after for weeks,
for I was in that condition of mind when absolute renunciation of
society was a necessity. I had become diffident of myself, and wearied
of my kind. A strange unrest was in my blood; a barren dearth in my
brains. Familiar objects and faces had grown distasteful to me. I wanted
to be alone.
This is the mood which comes upon every sensitive and artistic mind
when the possessor has been overworked or living too long in one
groove. It is Nature's hint for him to seek pastures new; the sign that a
retreat has become needful.
If he does not yield, he breaks down and becomes whimsical and
hypochondriacal, as well as hypercritical. It is always a bad sign when
a man becomes over-critical and censorious about his own or other
people's work, for it means that he is losing the vital portions of work,
freshness and enthusiasm.
Before I arrived at the dismal stage of criticism I hastily packed up my
knapsack, and taking the train to Westmorland, I began my tramp in
search of solitude, bracing air and romantic surroundings.
Many places I came upon during that early summer wandering that
appeared to have almost the required conditions, yet some petty
drawback prevented me from deciding. Sometimes it was the scenery
that I did not take kindly to. At other places I took sudden antipathies to
the landlady or landlord, and felt I would abhor them before a week
was spent under their charge. Other places which might have suited me
I could not have, as they did not want a lodger. Fate was driving me to
this Cottage on the Moor, and no one can resist destiny.

One day I found myself on a wide and pathless moor near the sea. I had
slept the night before at a small hamlet, but that was already eight miles
in my rear, and since I had turned my back upon it I had not seen any
signs of humanity; I was alone with a fair sky above me, a balmy
ozone-filled wind blowing over the stony and heather-clad mounds, and
nothing to disturb my meditations.
How far the moor stretched I had no knowledge; I only knew that by
keeping in a straight line I would come to the ocean cliffs, then perhaps
after a time arrive at some fishing village.
I had provisions in my knapsack, and being young did not fear a night
under the stars. I was inhaling the delicious summer air and once more
getting back the vigour and happiness I had lost; my city-dried brains
were again becoming juicy.
Thus hour after hour slid past me, with the paces, until I had covered
about fifteen miles since morning, when I saw before me in the distance
a solitary stone-built cottage with roughly slated roof. 'I'll camp there if
possible,' I said to myself as I quickened my steps towards it.
To one in search of a quiet, free life, nothing could have possibly been
more suitable than this cottage. It stood on the edge of lofty cliffs, with
its front door facing the moor and the back-yard wall overlooking the
ocean. The sound of the dancing waves struck upon my ears like a
lullaby as I drew near; how they would thunder when the autumn gales
came on and the seabirds fled shrieking to the shelter of the sedges.
A small garden spread in front, surrounded by a dry-stone wall just
high enough for one to lean lazily upon when inclined. This garden was
a flame of colour, scarlet predominating, with those other soft shades
that cultivated poppies take on in their blooming, for this was all that
the garden grew.
As I approached, taking notice of this singular assortment of poppies,
and the orderly cleanness of the windows, the front door opened and a
woman appeared who impressed me at once favourably as she leisurely
came along the pathway to the gate, and drew it back as if to welcome

me.
She was of middle age, and when young must have been remarkably
good-looking. She was tall and still shapely, with smooth clear skin,
regular features and a calm expression that at once gave me a sensation
of rest.
To my inquiries she said that she could give me both a sitting and
bedroom, and invited me inside to see them. As I looked at her smooth
black hair, and cool brown eyes, I felt that I would not be too particular
about the accomodation. With such a landlady, I was sure to find what I
was after here.
The rooms surpassed my expectation, dainty white curtains and
bedding with the perfume of lavender