A Maggot - John Fowles (30 page)

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Authors: John Fowles

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Q. As I count thee an honest man. Next.

A. We walked to where I had left my horse, which I
found secure, thank the Lord; and she mounted and I led her down
toward the road, sir.

Q. Did you not press her to say more?

A. I did, sir, and more than once, you may be sure.
Still she would not speak to any purpose, but again said she would
speak all, once we were from that place. So I kept my counsel, sir,
until we come close above the road. There I stop and turn and say I
would know where we should go once below on the road. For see you I
had bethought myself as we went, and saw I must persuade her to my
purpose, which was that I should bring her to his Lordship's father.
She answers, I must to Bristol as soon as I can. Why Bristol, say I;
and she, Because my parents dwell there. Do they know what thou art,
say I next. And she would not answer, 'cept she must see them. Then I
said, I must know thy true name, and where thou be found there. And
she says, Rebecca Hocknell, though some call me Fanny, and my father
is Amos, he is joiner and carpenter, thou mayst find him at Mill
Court near the sign of the Three Tuns in Queen Street, in St Mary
Redcliff parish. I will tell you now, sir, I writ her so, this last
June when I heard of Dick as I told, and have had no answer yet. 'Tis
not sure, though I did believe her then.

Q. Very well. What followed?

A. Why, just then as we spake we heard singing, sir,
of some who came late home from the maying through the woods, I dare
say six or seven, men and women, and more bawling than singing, for
they had drank their fill. So we fell silent as they came, and took
comfort to be among ordinary mortals, despite their cups and noise,
after that place above.

Q. It was not yet dark?

A. Near, sir, the mogshade full upon us. The wooden
shoes passed below, and on. Then of a sudden I heard Rebecca, so I
will call her now, exclaim, I can no more, I must, I must; and before
I may speak she is dismounted and runs off a little way, where she
falls upon her knees, as if to give thanks once more for being
delivered. Soon I hear she is weeping. So I tie the bridle to a
bough, and go to her, and find her in a strange shaking, as she were
in a great cold or fever, tho' the night was mild. And at each
shaking she moans, oh, oh, oh, as if in pain. I take her shoulder,
but 'twas like my hand scalded her, she twitches away, thus, sir, yet
no other notice, nor spoke. Then of another sudden she falls in a
seeming fit flat upon her face with her arms stretched out upon the
ground, and there is more shaking and moaning. I will tell you, sir,
Jones was as fearful then as of all else before. I thought they she
spake so darkly of played hot cockles with her soul, and now did
torment her for her sins and took possession of her flesh. Dear God,
her sobs and sighs were like one in hellfire. I have heard such from
a woman's throat when brought to bed, as she labours, sir, if your
worship will pardon. So 'twas, I swear. I drew back till the fit was
finished and then she lay still a minute or more, though I heard her
yet sob again and a while. At last I went close where she lay and
asked, was she ill? Whereat, after a little pause, like one who
speaks in sleep, she says, Never so well in all my life. Then, Christ
is returned within me. I say, I thought thee possessed. And she: Yes,
so I was, but as I should be, by Him alone, and have no fear; now I
am saved. Next she sat and bowed her face upon her knees, yet soon
looked up and said, I am famished with hunger, have you no bait? So I
said, What's left of a penny brick and a morsel of cheese, and she
replies, That will suffice. Which I fetched, sir, and brought to her,
and she stood to take it from my hands, then went to sit in more ease
upon a fallen tree that lay close by; and began to eat, but stopped,
and asked if I was hungry too. I said I was, no matter, I had starved
before. No, I won't have that, said she, thou hast comforted me in my
hour of need, let us share. So I sat beside her and she brake me a
piece of bread and the cheese, tho' no more than two or three
mouthfuls each. And then I asked what she meant, that she was saved.
She said, why, the Lord is within me, and I pray it shall be as well
with thee, Farthing. He will not forsake us now, and we may be
forgiven what we have done and seen. Which I found strange words in a
strumpet, sir, but said I hoped it so. And she replied, I was brought
up a Friend, I have lost the light and all else these last five
years; now the Lord has rekindled it in His mercy.

Q. And believed you her cant, all this quaking and
shaking?

A. I must, sir. It seemed no pretence. No actress,
no, none I have seen, could play it so well.

Q. Ill. But proceed.

A. Then said I 'twas very well speaking so, and of
being saved and forgiven, still I must know what his Lordship had
been about in that place, and where Dick could be gone. To which she
answers, Why didst lie to me, Farthing? What lie, I say. She says,
That his Lordship's father has set thee upon this. No lie, say I.
Yes, she says, for else thou'dst have known for certain who I am, and
not needed to put thy questions. Well, sir, I was caught, though I
tried my best, but she would not have it, for she took my hand and
pressed it, so to tell me I wasted my breath. Then said, Art thou
afraid? Be no more afraid. Then, We are friends now, Farthing, and
friends and lies don't walk together. I thought then to change my
tack, since the first one brought me upon the rocks, and said, Very
well, even so it can be truth if we wish, and we should together make
it such; for it might bring us great reward at His Grace's hands, as
well she knew. To which she said, Death is more like, I know the
great of this world better than thee. They would rather do murder
than let live those who can bring scandal on their name. And scandal
I have, such as they would never bear, nor believe belike even it
were told. For who would take my word, or thine?

Q. She cozened thee, man; made thee play coney to a
cunning whore.

A. She was much changed, sir. She had not spoke so
kind before.

Q. Kind when she called you liar to your face? Why
did you not answer your Christian duty lay in apprising His Grace?

A. I thought it best to let bide my plan; sir. For
she seemed fixed, she said she had promised in her prayings she'd
straight to her parents, she did know they lived; and I would have
her speak of other things. So we came to what we should do that
night. I was for riding with her behind me for Bristol, as she
wanted. To which she said she feared to go back upon our road, it was
best we went on for Bideford, and take ship.

Q. She gave no reason?

A. That she had given me credit at first for being
His Grace's spy, for his Lordship had told her that such there were,
who dogged his steps. And they might now be on our heels, and she
should be recognized for certain if we met. And I thought then, sir,
it made no odds. If she could take ship, so might I, and still come
to Bristol together. And so 'twas, your worship, that we did make for
Bideford.

Q. Come to her tale, upon the road.

A. Well, sir, I will tell all, tho' not as it came,
for it came not all at once, but some upon the road that night and
some when we were at Bideford, where we lodged two days, as I will
tell. To begin she told me she first had met his Lordship at
Claiborne's a month before, where he was brought by another lord who
much frequented the place; and she said little better than pandar to
it, sir, for all his rank. That she took his Lordship to her chamber
for his pleasure, yet once there he'd have none of her, though he
seemed forward enough in desire of her when in company below. That he
placed five guineas upon her table and said he hoped it would buy her
silence in what he had to propose. Which was that there was a great
fault in his nature and alas he could not enjoy what she was hired to
provide him with, for which he hoped she would the more pity than
mock him. Notwithstanding which, he knew not how, it did afford him
some pleasure to see the venereous act performed; that he had a
willing manservant; and that if she could oblige him in so unnatural
a thing he would see her 'ceeding well recompensed for it. He durst
not-for his fair name let wind of his disadvantage come to his
friend's or Mother Claiborne's ears, nor for that reason risk to
effect his desire in the house where they were. But to prevent that,
if she agreed, he would first come to visit her there as a normal man
might; then, having won her mistress's confidence, would propose to
hire her out on some other pretext, when what he wished could take
place. That he promised she should find the servant a lusty, handsome
young fellow and perhaps more to her taste than many others she must
take to her arms.

Q. I am to understand, that his Lordship never went
to her bed?

A. So she said, sir. And how as on his next visit his
Lordship pointed from her window down in the street, and showed her
Dick there, who seemed as he said to her. And so, to be short, she
consented, for she told me she then took some pity for his Lordship,
who spoke to her with more courtesy and consideration than she was
commonly used to. On that or another visit she said he spoke of the
unjust curse upon him and the embarrassments he was placed in by it,
and in particular by his father, who was much vexed by his seeming
disobedience as to a certain marriage and threatened him to stop him
of his inheritance and I know not what else. And then he confessed
that this he proposed was counselled him by a learned doctor in
London, who claimed to have cured others in his Lordship's case by
this method.

Q. He had not tried it before, as he first pretended?

A. 'Tis as Rebecca believed, sir.

Q. Had she known such cases, or had such requests,
before?

A. She did not say, sir. But I have heard talk of
such, with the debosht, sir, begging your worship's pardon. Such as
old men, who have lost their natural vigours. I forget, she said he
told also he had tried more decent remedies, such as be found at the
apothecary's. Yet all to no avail.

Q. Come to the journey west - what told he concerning
that?

A. That he would carry her upon a tour he proposed to
make there, for he had heard of new waters, recent found, and reputed
excellent for his failing, which he would also take, and thus try the
both cures at once. That he would not have his father's spies upon
his heels, watching all he did, so some pretext must be found.

Q. That of the elopement and the lady's maid?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Did she speak of a party of pleasure, with other
rakes?

A. No, sir.

Q. No matter. How did his Lordship account to her for
your part in all this?

A. Well you may ask, sir. For I did myself, as we
walked. And she said she was told we came as added colour to the
pretext, and Mr Lacy as companion also to his Lordship. That she was
to hold her distance, not question us, nor let herself be questioned.

Q. How came she to where you first met, by Staines?

A. I did not think to ask, sir. I don't doubt his
Lordship had her in hiding, for she said she had done his wish with
Dick, and he gave her money and thanked her, when 'twas done. Yet
once we were set out, she found his Lordship soon altered, his former
courtesy had been but a mask upon his real face. She must do as he
wished before him that next night also. After which he seemed far
less pleased, and upbraided her for showing so little of her bagnio
arts, or what you may call 'em, sir; and how he would not hear blame
for Dick's part in it, which came from a quickness in his passion
that she could not prevent.

Q. We speak of the night at Basingstoke?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. What said she of Dick?

A. That the fellow seemed blind to his master's
needs, so she were for himself to enjoy as he pleased. That he seemed
not to know what she truly was, to believe she loved him because he
had this use of her, tho' in such wicked circumstance.

Q. She but feigned to show some favour for him, then?

A. She said she felt some pity for him, sir, she
could see his passion for her was real. That he knew no better, and
having only half his wits, had no blame in that. She told me he came
to her in the night, after his Lordship had dismissed them, to lie
with her again. Which out of fear she had allowed.

Q. You asked of what happened at Amesbury, when they
rode out in the night?

A. I did, sir, and 'tis such a tale you will not
believe.

Q. That may well be; but out with it.

A. How upon our arrival, his Lordship called her
apart to his room and said he was sorry for venting his impatience
the previous night, she must not take it amiss that he had placed too
great expectations upon being roused. Then that close by Amesbury
there lay a place said to have especial powers to restore such as he,
and that night he would try it, and she must come with him. She must
not be afraid, it was but a crotchet of his, he would prove
superstition. He swore she would come to no harm, whatever befell.

Q. He said this, he would prove superstition?

A. Her very words, sir. And she told me, tho' his
manner was kind again, she was much alarmed, for she felt some
madness in his Lordship, some bias of the mind, and wished she had
never come. Yet he made her further assurances, and promised reward,
until she agreed.

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