The Pleasure Merchant (17 page)

At last Hallux leaned back against the table, hands beside his ample rump, elbows cocked, leaning forward. Silence descended.

“Well,” he said at last. “You are all in for quite a treat—a
rare
treat, I should say. I confess I’ve never exhibited my research before a lay audience before. Yes, of course I’ve obliged the Royal Society with demonstrations of the power of what I call
onarprotrepsis
, or dream-guiding. If any of you travel in scientific circles,” his tone implied that he found this highly unlikely, “it may be that you have heard of something similar to my theory out of Germany, called
animal magnetism
, as conducted by Anton Mesmer, which purports to heal via the manipulation of the body’s magnetic fluid. But I tell you truly, onarprotrepsis has more potential. Already in the East this sort of suggestion has been shown to greatly aid all manner of individual suffering from physical complaints—but I believe it is better suited for healing complaints of the nerves, as well as the
human mind itself
.
”

He had captured everyone’s attention, even Tom’s. Hallux smiled, then clapped once, startling everyone.

“So!” he cried. “I must have a volunteer. Someone prepared for an unusual adventure, and bold enough to report his sensations and experiences honestly to this assembly. Who here will put himself forward? I assure you, you will be quite safe.”

Several hands went up among the gathered, mainly men but a few women. Hallux selected young Master Edward Jepp, a kind and handsome youth whom Tom had liked very much on the few occasions they had spoken. Of all the young gentlemen in the neighborhood, Master Edward had been the least standoffish, and for that, Tom appreciated him. The lad had a kind heart, and when Hallux bid him go into the next room and change into the bright banyan and cap before they began, he did so with good humor.

“What I shall do to the young master is something more akin to animal magnetism than my new onarprotreptic technique,” said Mr. Dryden, as they waited. “As you will shortly see, by means of this magnet and certain concentration techniques, I shall convince—” the young man entered, clad now in the loose-fitting garment. Hallux broke off, winking at the assembly. “Ah, Master Edward! I trust you are comfortable, and your breathing is unrestricted?”

“Very much so,” said the youth. “I do feel a bit underdressed, however.”

“Not at all!” cried Hallux, over the chuckles the lad’s quip produced. “Come, come. Sit down here, on this chair. Ah, there we are. Excellent.”

Hallux now picked up the magnet, and passing it from hand to hand, walked around behind the young man.

“Master Edward, I do wonder… would you be so kind as to tell us all where you are?”

“What’s that?”

“Where are you? Currently, I mean.”

“Here… in the parlor, in Bergamot Mews,” said Jepp uncertainly.

“Yes, of course you are. And who are you?”

“Master Edward Jepp?”

“Are you certain?”

Master Edward chuckled. “Yes, of course.”

“And your age?”

“Nineteen this summer.”

“And who are you with?”

“All of you, of course…” said Master Edward, once again vaguely uneasy by the odd questions.

“I just wanted you to state it for everyone. Now, close your eyes.” Master Edward obliged him. Hallux produced a handkerchief and tied it around the youth’s eyes. “I do not think you would peek, Master Edward; this is for the audience’s sake.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Now, Master Edward, do relax. Think of a happy memory, and breathe deeply, in through the nose, and out through the nose. Yes, like that. Now, pause briefly at the top and bottom of your breath. Are you thinking of your happy memory? You are? Good.”

For some minutes Hallux continued to give instructions to the young gentleman regarding his posture, the rate of his breaths, the positioning of his hands, and his feet. After a time Master Edward fell silent, and putting a finger to his lips, Hallux bid the room follow suit.

The magnet, still in his hand, came into play. Hallux, moving as quietly as he could, moved the magnet across the length of Master Edward’s shoulders, side to side, just skimming over his figure, never touching it. His motions were long and regular, and he occasionally murmured something, but so low that none of the party could hear just what he said. It was an uncanny performance, and one that Tom felt certain would have been classified as witchcraft during a less enlightened time. It certainly gave him the chills to watch it, especially when Master Edward, with no ability to see and presumably having heard nothing, began to sway side to side in time with Hallux’s movements. When he leaped to his feet and began making strange motions in the air, as if pulling at some invisible rope, the demonstration seemed even less like a joke or entertainment.

Others shared his opinion, it seemed—whispers punctuated the silence until a sharp look from Hallux silenced them.

“Master Edward,” he said, over the murmurs and scuffles, “where are you?”

“On a boat,” replied the youth, in a high, almost childish voice.

“On a boat,” echoed Hallux, as more gasps and murmurs filled the room. This time, he made no attempt to silence them. “I see. And where is this boat?”

“We’re drifting down the Parrett. It’s a lovely warm day. I’m trying to get the sail up, but there’s not a breath of wind.”

“Charming. And how old are you?”

“Eight!”

“And who are you with?”

“Father, and my brother Geoffrey. We’re going fishing.”

Mrs. Jepp cried out. Tears were in her eyes; her husband put his arm around her as she buried her face in his chest. Tom was quite confused, and enquired of his neighbor what was happening. Apparently, Geoffrey Jepp had died seven years ago!

“Can you talk to him, Edward?” Mrs. Jepp raised her head, eyes bloodshot and puffy. “Can you tell Geoffrey his mother loves him, and misses him?”

“Mrs. Jepp,” said Hallux, “your son is not communing with the…
beyond
. As I said, onarprotrepsis is all based in
suggestion
. I suggested to your son that he recall a happy memory, and when he had it fixed in his mind, I suggested he was inhabiting that memory instead of our present company. That is all.”

“The sail’s up!” cried Master Edward, delighted. “Look, Geoffrey, look how fast we’re going!”

“They’re together, I can tell!” wailed Mrs. Jepp, rising to her feet. “Let me talk to Geoffrey, please! There were so many things I wanted to tell him…”

“Stop this!” Mr. Jepp was also up now, angry rather than distressed. He held back his wife, though she struggled to reach their son. “Mr. Dryden, why do you persist in tormenting us? This demonstration is a disgrace! Mr. Bewit, for all your cousin suggested his researches would be an honor and a pleasure to witness, he has upset my wife, and induced uncomfortable sensations in more than one present who knew our Geoffrey, I’d warrant.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Bewit faintly. “Cousin, I wonder…”

“Of course.” Mr. Dryden leaned in close to Master Edward and murmured something. The lad dropped his hands immediately and pulled off his blindfold, looking confused.

“I say,” he said, looking around and noting the audience was something rather less than amused. “What have I been doing? The last thing I recall, I was… was sitting down, and… mother, are you quite all right?” He turned angrily to Hallux. “Just what has been going on?”

“Come here, Edward,” said Mr. Jepp sternly. “Bewit, I can’t imagine you’d be averse to us calling for our carriage, given…”

“Please, calm yourselves,” said Hallux, totally unconcerned by the ill will his entertainment had generated. “Let me make it up to you. ’Twas an oversight on my part, I allow, not to give more
delicate
instructions to the boy when I told him to imagine a happy memory. Sit, I beg you. My next demonstration will give everyone nothing but pleasure, I promise it.”

Reluctantly, the Jepps returned to their seats, though Mr. Jepp was whispering to his son as they complied.

“Onarprotrepsis has great potential for nerve therapy,” said Hallux, tactfully ignoring the snorts with which his now-skeptical audience expressed their disbelief. “The therapeutic potential of putting someone back in a happy memory, or encouraging them to examine one less agreeable, is undeniable. But the past is not the only place onarprotrepsis may take us. It can help a man cultivate his future—rather as one would cultivate a garden.”

“How is that?” asked Reverend Tucker.

Hallux bowed. “Reverend, I beg you to think of planting seeds in such a way that the finished design is pleasing to the senses. Onarprotrepsis, similarly, can help us to experience, by the process of visualization, what we hope to one day achieve or see come about. I will show you, if you would all bear with me a few minutes more?” He turned politely to his cousin, but Tom knew without looking that of course Mr. Bewit would give his permission.

“Please, all of you take a seat,” said Hallux. “Make yourselves at ease. Yes, that’s right… fear not, Lady Charlotte, I shall induce nothing so shocking as what Master Jepp allowed me the liberty to do. Merely a pleasant thought experiment, of harm to no one—and, I flatter myself, of use to all.”

Once Hallux was sufficiently convinced of his audience’s participation, however grudging it might be, he picked up the bone pipe Tom had brought down. Hallux blew into it once, tinkered with it, then blew again and seemed satisfied.

“I shall play a sequence of notes,” he said. “Listen closely, and as you listen, I want you to think of something you wish for—something you would like to see happen, or like to obtain… something within the realm of the possible.”

Tom tried his best to conjure up some vision of his future hopes and dreams. It was difficult, but eventually a dream of Hizzy in her bridal clothes came to him, standing in front of a wig shop. It occurred to him that he had never written to her, had not even thought of her for months. As he contemplated how his inconstancy must plague her, her image faded… only to be replaced by one of himself, dressed not as a tradesman, but as a gentleman, in yet finer clothes than he already owned, and with a different woman on his arm.

He heard Hallux playing on his pipe, but it seemed very far away. In Tom’s mind, he was standing on the front step of his own London residence, straightening his fine hat and leading his golden-haired bride down to a carriage that waited for them in the street.

“Oh
Tom
,” said the beauty beside him, “you are, I’m sure, the best husband anyone in the world could want. So intelligent—so discerning—so confident! It is so
kind
of you to take me to Bath for the next few months, when all our acquaintance have gone there.”

Tom handed her up into the coach, sneaking a look at the clocked stockings that did little to conceal her slender ankles and calves from his view, and felt the beginnings of a cockstand in his breeches. Good thing his lady was always so amenable; he guessed she would consent to letting him have her in the carriage during the drive. It could be managed if they pulled down the shades and kept their raptures in check.

How lucky he was, to have such a wife! And such a living! And all because he had served Mr. Bewit so steadfastly that the man had remembered him in his will. Yes indeed, Tom had been well-favored, much to the dismay of Mr. Bewit’s too-absent son and not-absent-enough cousin. But when had they ever once humored the man, much less made a life of it? Callow was an ass; Hallux, a brute. That was why Sabina was now sitting beside him, after all…

A shrill scream drew Tom from these pleasant fantasies. He awoke with a start to find a dismayed Hallux Dryden trying and failing to restrain his wife. Sabina was writhing on the floor, convulsing, specks of white froth bedewing her perfect ruby lips.

“Mrs. Dryden!”

Though it would not be unfair to describe Hallux’s usual attitude toward his bride as callous, he was clearly distraught over her fit. He did not at all seem his usual self as he ran his magnet all over the limbs of her body; his motions were hasty, and his expression, wracked, especially as it became obvious that Sabina was not responding to his attentions. Eventually she ceased to cry out, but even then, her wide eyes stared at nothing, and she would not stop shaking.

“Leave us, I beg you,” cried Hallux. Mr. Bewit, whose nerves were also of concern to Tom, stammered and blushed as he herded everyone out of the parlor. Tom only obeyed for his master’s sake… he wanted to see what happened, and managed to dawdle long enough that he saw Hallux retrieve a candle and withdraw his pocket watch. He dangled the latter before his wife’s unseeing eyes, doing something with the face as it glinted in the candlelight.

It made Tom feel queer, watching this go on, and on… it was almost as if something half-remembered and long-buried was rising to the surface of his mind. But Tom could not for the life of him think of what on earth it might be, for he could not imagine what Hallux was doing to the woman, or why it should remind him of anything. And yet, this was the… yes, the third time Tom had seen him do this.