Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (312 page)

Whether
mad
or
not,
he
gave
no
trouble
but
settled
down
in
the madhouse
with
the
creatures
of
strange
behaviour
for
good
and
all, submissive,
humble
and
well-behaved.
Long
friendless
years
rolled
by and
gradually
the
circumstance
of
his
coming
was
forgotten.
In
time he
made
some
acquaintance
with
their
language
and
could
use
it, but
all
remembrance
was
gone
and
he
could
tell
nothing
of
himself, his
history,
friends,
home,
or
his
flight
from
the
world.
Despite
his placability
and
meekness
he
was
shunned
by
all
except
the
one-eyed cobbler
who,
from
having
been
a
wayside
preacher,
was
devout
to mania,
with
large
gaping
holes
in
his
intellect.
Yet
it
was
from
this derelict
that
our
lost
soul
gained
some
knowledge
of
the
world
and life
and
behaviour,
in
particular
the
doom
and
disaster
that
were
to befall,
the
pit
of
wrath
awaiting
sinners,
and
that
heavenly
shield
of the
wise,
the
Saviour
of
mankind.
With
a
slap
of
the
hand
upon
his tattered
bible
the
cobbler
would
growl:

"There
be
three
in
this
book
that
shall
not
escape
our
vengeance. Not
three
only,
believe
you
me!
but
three
among
many,
and
these three
above
all.
Clearly
you
may
perceive
this.
Listen!
Firstly
there is
Eve,
that
tremendous
trollop,
source
of
our
downfall,
the
original, the
everlasting
one!
She
has
broken
the
world,
but
it
can
be
mended and
it
will
be
mended.
I
will
leam
you
about
her."

And
he
taught
him
the
story
of
the
Fall.

"Secondly:
that
high
and
haughty
Salome,
whore
of
Herod
and slayer
of
John
Baptist.
I
will
leam
you
about
her."

And
he
told
him
the
story
of
the
dancer
and
the
tetrarch
and
the wild
prophet.

"Thirdly
and
lastily,
I
come
to
that
cursed
Judas,
who
betrayed the
Son
of
Man
with
a
villain's
kiss.
And
all
for
thirty
shillings!
He hung
himself
to
death
on
a
tree,
he
was
so
cursed."

"What
tree?"
asked
his
friend.

"I
heard
it
was
an
apple,
but
it
might
be
walnut,
or
pear;
it
was
in an
orchard.
All's
one
in
the
hands
of
the
Lord." "Do
you
mean
God?"

"I
mean
Jesus,
the
holy
and
innocent
Saviour,"
the
cobbler
answered.
"He
betrayed
him." "Who
did?"

"That
Judas
fiend,
Judas
Iscariot,
the
curse
of
the
world.
But
there is
no
escape
for
him."
The
cobbler
lowered
his
voice
and
glanced apprehensively
about.
"Do
you
know,
he
never
died!
No,
it
is
not easy
for
him.
He
goes
wandering
for
ever,
lost,
lost,
and
rejected,
but we
shall
smell
him
out,
mark
it
you,
we
shall
find
him.
Mark
my words,
O
mark
them!"

A
ghost
has
no
memory,
only
the
ghost
of
a
memory,
yet
the
mind of
the
shunned
wanderer
began
to
swarm
with
fearful
tremors.