A Maggot - John Fowles (32 page)

Q. Why stop you, man?

A. Sir, you will not credit me.

Q. I'll credit thee the greatest flogging of your
life, if thou dost not make haste.

A. And I fear the same when you hear, sir. But so I
must. I tell as told, sir, I pray your worship remember that. There
in the great inner chamber of the cavern she saw a fire and by it two
hideous old women and a younger, who she knew at once for witches,
for they stared most balefully, yet in seeming expectation, as if
they awaited this. And how one was she they had met in their coming,
the younger, tho' now she was garbed all in black, and did hold a
bellows in her hand; and how another did sit with a great black cat
and a raven at her sides, her familiars; while the other that was
third span thread upon a wheel. And how behind these three stood one
dressed in a dark cloak and masked, as it might be a hangman, sir,
she said, but that the mask covered not his mouth, where he seemed as
dark and his lips full-fleshed as a blackamoor's. And tho' she had
seen him but in a glimpse before, she knew upon the instant who he
was and what dreadful plight she was now in. Satan, sir, plain as I
see you, Bezzle Bob as the common say. And cried out loud in her
horror, which I heard, as I told. She would run off, did Dick and his
Lordship not hold her so tight, and make her go forward toward the
fire. Where they stopped, and his Lordship spoke in a tongue she
could not follow, it seemed with great respect, as one might speak to
a great lord or king. Tho' Satan said not a word, yet seemed to stare
upon her with eyes as red as fire behind his mask. And again she
would escape, and could not, for Dick and his Lordship stood as ones
tranced, yet did not loose their hold upon her. And she said she
began to say the Lord's Prayer beneath her breath, but finished it
not, for the youngest hag pointed a finger of accusation to her, to
say she knew what Rebecca did, tho' 'twas without speaking. And how
next the two older witches came to her and began to pinch and feel
her so she were a trussed fowl, 'spite she began to weep and did beg
for mercy. And she said they who held her had been pillars of flint
for all they seemed to hear, holding her still for the hags to feel
her, like they were hodmandod cannibals as well as witches. That did
smell most vile, rank as goats. And the more she cried, the more the
two hags cackled and felt her body. The while of which, Satan came
closer from where he stood, the better to view this sport.

Q. Stop. Now think, Jones, and tell me this. She was
formal, this was Satan in person? That is, not one for some purpose
dressed to impose upon her. Not some tricked-up semblance?

A. Sir, I asked her later that very question, and
more than once. But she would not have it. As sure she was 'twas him
in the flesh, as the horse we rode was horse. Her very words, sir.

Q. Very well. I will tell you now, this is beyond my
belief, Jones. The strumpet was lying in her teeth.

A. Sir, it may be. I know not now what to believe,
save I am certain that some most strange thing happened. She was much
changed, sir. No more the Rebecca of old, see you.

Q. Proceed.

A. Next, sir, I blush to tell; but must. For she was
forced back upon the ground, while the two hags went to their master
and served as his tire-maids, until he stood naked, proud in his
demon's lust and would come down upon her, though she still wept and
cried, for she thought this her Day of Judgement, punishment upon her
for all her past sins at Mother Claiborne's. So she said, sir, as he
stood above her, black as Ham, to have his will. Of what happened
next she knew not, sir, for she said she swooned, and knew not how
long she lay in her swoon, but that when she woke she found herself
lying on one side, she must suppose dragged or carried there, and
felt a great pain in her privities, as if her swooning had not spared
her and some rude forcing had taken place. Then that she peeped open
her eyes and saw what she could scarce believe, sir, for the young
hag and his Lordship stood naked before the Devil like man and bride,
and he married them, or made out to do so in blasphemous mock, sir,
and blessed them in evil jest, gave them his nether parts to kiss,
which they did; and that this black wedding, 'twas no sooner done in
such wicked form than done in the flesh, and all about the fire fell
likewise to practising abominations among themselves, as 'tis said
witches do in their covens.

Q. Do you say, his Lordship also?

A. Yes, sir, the Devil and his handmaids, Dick and
his master. All. And you must forgive me, sir, his Lordship was cured
of his previous state and seemed most eager in the lewdness, as if to
vie with the Devil himself. So she said; and how she had seen
somewhat in this guise at Claiborne's, yet none like this. Why, even
the raven stood upon the cat, as though to cover her.

Q. Now I ask this, but first I make warning. What is
said here between us thou shalt not repeat. Shouldst thou speak and I
hear, it is thy doom soon after. Is that most clear?

A. Most clear, sir. I swear I shall not.

Q. And had better not, Jones, or by Heavens thou art
dead. This is my question. Said she that among these lecherous
abominations that she saw there was one practised between his
Lordship and his man alone?

A. Sir, save the black wedding she did not tell what
she saw, no more than that it took place.

Q. She spake not of such a vile act in the
particular?

A. No, sir.

Q. Saw you no sign, it matters not when or where upon
your journey, of such an unnatural relationship between his Lordship
and Dick?

A. No, sir, upon my life.

Q. You are certain, Jones?

A. Certain, sir.

Q. Very well. Now tell on as she told.

A. That in some interval in these foul diversions one
of the hags came and shook her by the shoulder where she lay, as if
to see whether she waked yet. Rebecca made pretence of being still
swooned. Whereupon the hag went off and fetched some potion and
forced her to take some in her mouth. 'Twas nauseous and bitter, said
Rebecca, as of aloes or venomed toadstools. Its effect drowsing, for
soon she fell asleep; yet had no relief in it, as your worship might
think, for she had a dream that seemed not a dream, so real it
seemed, and like waking. In it she walked down a passage-hall, or
gallery, as in some noble house, that was hung with great tapestries
as far as she could see. And the Devil was beside her, in a black
suit, who now treated her with a seeming courtesy, so a gentleman
might show a lady his estate and its possessions, tho' he said
nothing. So be it when she chanced to look more closely on his face,
it was not he she had seen in the cavern, no, more like

his Lordship's, tho' swart of skin; yet somehow she
knew they were both the one, despite this strangeness.

Q. They spake no word?

A. No, for she said in that it seemed truly as in a
dream. That while they walked he would touch her arm and show her
this or that of the hangings, as he might point to a picture by some,
great master of the brush or pencil, sir. And I forget, she said all
was in a poor light, sometimes shadowed and hard to discern, yet even
that light seemed most diabolickal, for there was no windows, no
lustres, no flambeaux, no, not even the smallest candle. And
moreover, as they walked this dark gallery, she saw these hangings
lay not still. They moved, they swole and fell, as if touched by some
wind or air behind them. Yet she felt none upon her face.

Q. What showed they, these hangings?

A. Why, sir, she said all kind of most monstrous
horror and cruelty of man against man, such as waking she could not
have borne to see but did seem now obliged to study. For Satan had
only to point, and willy-nilly her gaze must follow. And the more
horror still because the figures and nature therein stood not fixed,
as in your true pictured hanging, yet moving as in life, tho' silent.
And so lifelike, said she, there appeared no stitches nor threads,
why, the very scene they would represent seemed acted again, as on a
stage for one who stood close by in the pit. And yet she must look at
all, as commanded, like as she had no lids to close her eyes against
such inhuman cruelty. How there was death in all, sir. And the Devil
himself in all, sometimes taking a main part, the bespeaker, at
others standing aloof, with a malignant smile, so to say, My work is
done for me, see what good helpers I have in this world. And as she
looked the furthest scenes would seem of a sudden brought close. How
one moment she might view as if from a hill a city below being
pillaged by soldiers, and the next as from ten paces poor innocent
children being put to the sword or their mother ravished before their
eyes. A torture chamber, through a window; then stood she above the
victim's face in his agony. So, sir. You must believe me.

Q. And how did this dream end?

A. She felt a great thirst, or so she put it, sir,
she did mean it in her soul, a need for Christ our Redeemer. And
began to look in these hangings for some sign of him, a cross, a
crucifix, yet could find none; till at last they came to a place
where this Devil's gallery seemed to end, for she saw a wall that
closed it and upon it a hanging that seemed to shine with a greater
light, though she could not yet make out what it showed. Some little
hope began to spring in her breast that Christ lay there, as we all
hope at the end of our travails in this world. And she would hasten
to it, but still was made to stop and unwillingly to look where she
had already seen more than enough. Then, sir, she could bear it no
more, and broke away and raised her petticoats and ran to where she
thought her thirst should be quenched. 'Twas the greatest deceiving
of all, sir. For as she came close she saw it was no Christ
portrayed, 'twas a barefoot beggar girl in rags, who wept like
Rebecca herself and seemed to raise her arms towards her as a child
to its mother. And behind, sir, she said all was fire, endless fire
under an endless night, as far as she could see, and whence came this
greater light; and tho' 'twas in her seeing, she could feel no heat
herself, yet could see the little beggar-girl that reached to her did
so feel it, and most terribly, and was stricken with pity and sorrow
for her. And would reach to save her, sir, but could not, however
much she tried, she said when it seemed they might touch 'twas as if
a pane of glass lay between them, tho' none to be seen. And I must
not forget, she said as she told it me, sir, there came to her as she
tried in vain to touch and save the child a belief she had known her
before, that they had once lain close in love and affection, as
sisters might; albeit now, upon reflection, she said she believed it
her own self, as she was before her coming to London; how for some
reason, perhaps the child's clothes (though she had been poor, sir,
she was never a beggar) she did not in her dream know herself.

Q. Conclude.

A. I am near, sir. And must offend belief again, sir.

Q. Offend. Thou hast me well used by now.

A. How the flames gained upon the beggar-girl, and
she burnt not as flesh does, but more as wax will, or fat too near a
fire. For her features seemed to melt, sir, if you may picture it,
and to drip down and fall, and drain to a pool of grease, which only
then the flames did eat and made a blackened smoke thereof, that was
all that was left. This passed sooner than I can speak it, sir, she
said, as happens in dreams before sleeping eyes. And now she felt a
great despair and rage, for this burning of the beggar-girl seemed to
her the most cruel and unjust of all she had seen. And thus she
turned to face Satan, who she took must be behind. She knew not what
to do, yet must let him see her anger at the least. Now, as she told,
she stopped. And d asked, Was he not there? And she said, He was not
there. On which she was silent a moment, then added, Thou must not
mock me. I said I should not. Next she said, All that had been there
as I came was gone. For I seemed to stand upon a Bristol quay, one I
once knew well. And on it stood my parents, who watched me sadly, to
say they too knew who was the beggar-girl lost in hell-fire. Beside
them stood another, a carpenter by his apron, like my father, tho'
younger and most sweet of face. And I began to weep again, for I had
known him well, too, when I was younger. Dost understand? I said, You
would say Our Lord? And she said, Yea, though in anevil dream, and
tho' not a word was spoke; but yea, a thousand times yea. Our Lord
Jesus Christ. Well, sir, I knew not what to say, so I said, And how
looked He at thee? And she said, As d had looked at the little
beggar-girl, Farthing. But yet there stood no ice-cold pane between
us, and I knew I might still be saved. There, sir. I have told all I
can, save her very voice and the circumstance.

Q. And is this the gloss she put upon such a farrago?
She is brought to sainthood by hobnobbing and coupling with Lucifer
himself? Why, man, you should have pitched her off your horse into
the nearest ditch. He deserves to be hanged who would believe a word
of this; or boiled into wax himself.

A. It seemed best policy to believe her then, sir.
That lay behind.

Q. To her waking.

A yes, sir. She said in her dream she would fain run
on her Bristol quay to fall to her knees before the Lord and her
parents, but waked before it could take place; and found herself as
before, in the cavern, to her great relief alone, tho' naked and
bitter cold. For now the fire was embers, and all the others
vanished. And so she left, sir, as I have told before.