Manly Wade Wellman - Judge Pursuivant 01 (9 page)

 
          
 
"Someone with a message, sah," he
announced, and drew aside to admit Susan Gird.

 
          
 
I fairly sprang to my feet, dropping my book
upon the desk. She advanced slowly into the room, her pale face grave but
friendly. I saw that her eyes were darkly circled, and that her cheeks showed
gaunt, as if with strain and weariness. She put out a hand, and I took it.

 
          
 
"A message?"
I repeated William's words.

 
          
 
"Why, yes." She achieved a smile,
and I was glad to see it, for both our sakes. "Judge Pursuivant got me to
one side and said for me to come here. You and I are to talk the thing
over."

 
          
 
"You mean, last night?" She nodded,
and I asked further, "How did you get here?"

 
          
 
"Your car.
I
don't drive very well, but I managed."

 
          
 
I asked her to sit down and talk.

 
          
 
She told me that she remembered being in the
parlor, with Constable O'Bryant questioning me. At the time she had had
difficulty remembering even the beginning of the seance, and it was not until I
had been taken away that she came to realize what had happened to her father.
That, of course, distressed and distracted her further, and even now the whole
experience was wretchedly hazy to her.

 
          
 
"I do recall sitting down with you,"
she said finally, after I had urged her for the twentieth time to think hard.
"You chained me, yes, and Doctor Zoberg.
Then yourself.
Finally I seemed to float away, as if in a dream. I'm not even sure about how
long it was."

 
          
 
"Had the light been out very long?"
I asked craftily.

 
          
 
"The light out?" she echoed,
patently mystified.
"Oh, of course.
The light was
turned out, naturally. I don't remember, but I suppose you attended to
that."

 
          
 
"I asked to try you," I confessed.
"I didn't touch the lamp until after you had seemed to drop ofl'to
sleep."

 
          
 
She did recall to memory her father's protest
at his manacles, and Doctor Zoberg's gentle inquiry if she were ready. That was
all.

 
          
 
"How is Doctor Zoberg?" I asked her.

 
          
 
"Not very well, I'm afraid. He was
exhausted by the experience, of course, and for a time seemed ready to break
down. When the trouble began about you - the crowd gathered at the town hall -
he gathered his strength and went out, to see if he could help defend or rescue
you. He was gone about an hour and then he returned, bruised about the face.
Somebody of the mob had handled him roughly, I think. He's resting at our place
now, with a hot compress on his eye."

 
          
 
"Good man!" I applauded. "At
least he did his best for me."

 
          
 
She was not finding much pleasure in her
memories, however, and I suggested a change of the subject. We had lunch
together, egg sandwiches and coffee,
then
played
several hands of casino. Tiring of that, we turned to the books and she read
aloud to me from Keats. Never has The Eve of St. Agnes sounded better to me.
Evening fell, and we were preparing to take yet another meal - a meat pie,
which William assured
us
was one of his culinary
triumphs - when the door burst open and Judge Pursuivant came in.

 
          
 
"You've been together all the time?"
he asked us at once.

 
          
 
"Why, yes," I said.

 
          
 
"Is that correct, Miss Susan? You've been
in the house, every minute?"

 
          
 
"That is right," she seconded me.

 
          
 
"Then," said the
judge.
"You two are cleared, at last."

 
          
 
He
paused,
looking
from Susan's questioning face to mine, then went on:

 
          
 
"That rending beast-thing in the Croft
got another victim, not more than half an hour ago. O'Bryant was feeling
better, ready to get back on duty. His deputy-brother, anxious to get hold of
Wills first, for glory or vengeance, ventured into the place, just at dusk. He
came out in a little while, torn and bitten almost to pieces, and died as he
broke clear of the cedar hedge."

           
 
''To meet that monster face
to face!"

 
          
 
I think that both Susan and I fairly reeled
before this news, like actors registering surprise in an old-fashioned
melodrama. As for Judge Pursuivant, he turned to the table, cut a generous
wedge of the meat pie and set it, all savory and steaming, on a plate for
himself His calm zest for the good food gave us others steadiness again, so
that we sat down and even ate a little as he described his day in town.

 
          
 
He had found opportunity to talk to Susan in
private, confiding in her about me and finally sending her to me; this, as he
said, so that we would convince each other of our resjjective innocences. It
was purely an inspiration, for he had had no idea, of course, that such
conviction would turn out so final. Thereafter he made shift to enter the Gird
house and talk to Doctor Zoberg.

 
          
 
That worthy he found sitting somewhat limply
in the parlor, with John Gird's coffin in the next room. Zoberg, the judge
reported, was mystified about the murder and anxious to bring to justice the
townsfolk - there were more than one, it seemed - who had beaten him. Most of
all, however, he was concerned about the charges against me.

 
          
 
"His greatest anxiety is to prove you
innocent," Judge Pursuivant informed me. "He intends to bring the
best lawyer possible for your defense, is willing even to assist in paying the
fee. He also swears that character witnesses can be brought to testify that you
are the most peaceable and law-abiding man in the country."

 
          
 
"That's mighty decent of him," I
said. "According to your reasoning of this morning, his attitude proves
him innocent, too."

 
          
 
"What reasoning was that?" asked
Susan, and I was glad that the judge continued without answering her.

 
          
 
"I was glad that I had sent Miss Susan
on. If your car had remained there, Mr Wills, Doctor Zoberg might have driven
off in it to rally your defenses."

 
          
 
"Not if I know him," I objected.
"The whole business, what of the mystery and occult significances, will
hold him right on the spot. He's relentlessly curious and, despite his temporary
collapse, he's no coward."

 
          
 
"I agree with that," chimed in
Susan.

 
          
 
As for my pursuers of the previous night, the
judge went on, they had been roaming the snow-covered streets in twos and
threes, heavily armed for the most part and still determined to punish me for
killing their neighbor. The council was too frightened or too perplexed to deal
with the situation, and the constable was still in bed, with his brother
assuming authority, when Judge Pursuivant made his inquiries. The judge went to
see the wounded man, who very pluckily determined to rise and take up his
duties again.

 
          
 
"I'll arrest the man who plugged
me," O'Bryant had promised grimly, "and that kid brother of mine can
quit playing policeman."

 
          
 
The judge applauded these sentiments, and
brought him hot food and whisky, which further braced his spirits. In the
evening came the invasion by the younger O'Bryant of the Devil's Croft, and his
resultant death at the claws and teeth of what prowled there.

 
          
 
"His throat was so torn open and filled
with blood that he could not speak," the judge concluded, "but he
pointed back into the timber, and then tried to trace something in the snow
with his finger. It looked like a wolf's head, with fjointed nose and ears. He died
before he finished."

 
          
 
"You saw him come out?" I asked.

 
          
 
"No. I'd gone back to town, but later I
saw the body, and the sketch in the snow."

 
          
 
He finished his dinner and pushed back his
chair. "Now," he said heartily, "it's up to us."

 
          
 
"Up to us to do
what?"
I inquired.

 
          
 
"To meet that monster face to face,"
he replied. "There are three of us and, so far as I can ascertain, but one
of the enemy." Both Susan and I started to speak, but he held up his hand,
smiling. "I know without being reminded that the odds are still against
us, because the one enemy is fierce and blood-drinking, and can change shape
and character. Maybe it can project itself to a distance- which makes it all
the harder, both for us to face it and for us to get help."

           
 
"I know what you mean by that last,"
I nodded gloomily. "If there were ten thousand friendly constables in the
neighborhood, instead of a single hostile one, they wouldn't believe us."

 
          
 
"Right," agreed Judge Pursuivant.
"We're like the group of perplexed mortals in Dracula, who had only their
own wits and weapons against a monster no more forbidding than ours."

 
          
 
It is hard to show clearly how his constant
offering of parallels and rationalizations comforted us. Only the unknown and
unknowable can terrify completely. We three were even cheerful over a bottle of
wine that William fetched and poured out in three glasses. Judge Pursuivant
gave us a toast - "May wolves go hungry!" -
and
Susan and I drank it gladly.

 
          
 
"Don't forget what's on our side,"
said the judge, putting down his glass. "I mean the steadfast and
courageous heart, of which I preached to Wills last night, and which we can
summon from within us any time and anywhere. The werewolf, daundessly faced, loses
its dread; and I think we are the ones to face it. Now we're ready for
action."

 
          
 
I said that I would welcome any kind of action
whatsoever, and Susan touched my arm as if in endorsement of the remark. Judge
Pursuivant's spectacles glittered in approval.

 
          
 
"You two will go into the Devil's
Croft," he announced. "I'm going back to town once more."

 
          
 
"Into the Devil's Croft!" we almost
shouted, both in the same shocked breath.

 
          
 
"Of course.
Didn't we just get through with the agreement all around that the lycanthrope
can and must be met face to face? Offense is the best defense, as perhaps one
hundred thousand athletic trainers have reiterated."

 
          
 
"I've already faced the creature
once," I reminded him. "As for appearing dauntless, I doubt my own
powers of deceit."

 
          
 
"You shall have a weapon," he said.
"A fire gives light, and we know that such things must have darkness -
such as it finds in the midst of that swampy wood. So fill your pockets with
matches, both of you."

 
          
 
"How about a gun?"
I asked, but he shook his head.

 
          
 
"We don't want the werewolf killed. That
would leave the whole business in mystery, and
yourself
probably charged with another murder. He'd return to his human shape, you know,
the moment he was hurt even slightly."

 
          
 
Susan spoke, very calmly: "I'm ready to
go into the Croft, Judge Pursuivant."

 
          
 
He clapped his hands loudly, as if applauding
in a theater. "Bravo, my dear, bravo! I see Mr Wills sets his jaw. That
means he's ready to go with you. Very well, let us be off."

 
          
 
He called to William who at his orders brought
three lanterns -sturdy old-fashioned affairs, protected by strong wire nettings
- and filled them with oil. We each took one and set out. It had turned clear
and frosty once more, and the moon shone too brightly for my comfort, at least.
However, as we approached the grove, we saw no sentinels; they could hardly be
blamed for deserting, after the fate of the younger O'Bryant.

 
          
 
We gained the shadow of the outer cedars
unchallenged. Here Judge Pursuivant called a halt, produced a match from his
overcoat pocket and lighted our lanterns all around. I remember that we struck
a fresh light for Susan's lantern; we agreed that, silly as the three-on-a
match superstition might be, this was no time or place to tempt
Providence
.

 
          
 
"Come on," said Judge Pursuivant
then, and led the way into the darkest part of the immense thicket.