Produced by Iona Vaughan, Mark Akrigg, Jana Srna and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net
THE FIVE JARS
by
M. R. JAMES.
Author of "Ghost Stories of an Antiquary"
New York. Longmans, Green & Co.
London. Edward Arnold & Co.
1922
All Rights Reserved
_Printed in Great Britain by_
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, LONDON AND WOKING
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. THE DISCOVERY 11
II. THE FIRST JAR 31
III. THE SECOND JAR 43
IV. THE SMALL PEOPLE 59
V. DANGER TO THE JARS 83
VI. THE CAT, WAG, SLIM AND OTHERS 109
VII. THE BAT-BALL 135
VIII. WAG AT HOME 155
I
THE DISCOVERY
My Dear Jane,
You remember that you were puzzled when I told you I had heard something
from the owls--or if not puzzled (for I know you have some experience of
these things), you were at any rate anxious to know exactly how it
happened. Perhaps the time has now come for you to be told.
It was really luck, and not any skill of mine, that put me in the way of
it; luck, and also being ready to believe more than I could see. I have
promised not to put down on paper the name of the wood where it
happened: that can keep till we meet; but all the rest I can tell
exactly as it came about.
It is a wood with a stream at the edge of it; the water is brown and
clear. On the other side of it are flat meadows, and beyond these a
hillside quite covered with an oak wood. The stream has alder-trees
along it, and is pretty well shaded over; the sun hits it in places and
makes flecks of light through the leaves.
The day I am thinking of was a very hot one in early September. I had
come across the meadows with some idea of sitting by the stream and
reading. The only change in my plans that I made was that instead of
sitting down I lay down, and instead of reading I went to sleep.
You know how sometimes--but very, very seldom--you see something in a
dream which you are quite sure is real. So it was with me this time. I
did not dream any story or see any people; I only dreamt of a plant. In
the dream no one told me anything about it: I just saw it growing under
a tree: a small bit of the tree root came into the picture, an old
gnarled root covered with moss, and with three sorts of eyes in it,
round holes trimmed with moss--you know the kind. The plant was not one
I should have thought much about, though certainly it was not one that I
knew: it had no flowers or berries, and grew quite squat in the ground;
more like a yellow aconite without the flower than anything else. It
seemed to consist of a ring of six leaves spread out pretty flat with
nine points on each leaf. As I say, I saw this quite clearly, and
remembered it because six times nine makes fifty-four, which happens to
be a number which I had a particular reason for remembering at that
moment.
Well, there was no more in the dream than that: but, such as it was, it
fixed itself in my mind like a photograph, and I was sure that if ever I
saw that tree root and that plant, I should know them again. And, though
I neither saw nor heard anything more of them than I have told you, it
was borne in upon my mind that the plant _was_ worth finding.
When I woke up I still lay, feeling very lazy, on the grass with my head
within a foot or two of the edge of the stream and listened to its
noise, until in five or six minutes--whether I began to doze off again
or not does not much matter--the water-sound became like words, and
said, "_Trickle-up, trickle-up_," an immense number of times. It pleased
me, for though in poetry we hear a deal about babbling brooks, and
though I am particularly fond of the noise they make, I never was able
before to pretend that I could hear any words. And when I did finally
get up and shake myself awake I thought I would anyhow pay so much
attention to what the water said as to stroll up the stream instead of
down. So I did: it took me through the flat meadows, but still along the
edge of the wood, and still every now and then I heard the same peculiar
noise which sounded like _Trickle-up_.
Not so very long after, I came to a place where another stream ran out
of the wood into the one I had been following, and just below the place
where the two joined there was--not a bridge, but a pole across, and
another pole to serve as a rail, by which you could cross, without
trouble. I did cross, not thinking much about it, but with some idea of
looking at this new little stream, which went at a very quick pace and
seemed to promise small rapids and waterfalls a little higher up. Now
when I got to the edge of it, there was no mistake: it was saying
"_Trickle-up_," or even "_Track-up_," much plainer than the old one. I
stepped across it and went a few yards up the old stream. Before the new
one joined it, it was saying nothing of the kind. I went back to the new
one: it was talking as plain as print. Of course there were no two words
about what must be done now. Here was something quite new, and even if I
missed my tea, it had got to be looked into. So I went up the new
stream into the wood.
Though I was well on the look-out for unusual things--in particular the
plant, which I could not help thinking about--I cannot say there was
anything peculiar about the stream or the plants or the insects or the
trees (except the words which the water kept saying) so long as I was in
the flat part of the wood. But soon I came to a steepish bank--the land
began to slope up suddenly and the rapids and waterfalls of the brook
were very gay and interesting. Then, besides _Track-up_, which was now
its word always instead of _Trickle_, I heard every now and then _All
right_, which was encouraging and exciting. Still, there was nothing out
of the way to be seen, look as I might.
The climb up the slope or bank was fairly long. At the top was a kind of
terrace, pretty level and with large old trees growing upon it, mainly
oaks. Behind there was a further slope up and still more woodland: but
that does not matter now. For the present I was at the end of my
wanderings. There was no more stream, and I had found what of all
natural things I think pleases me best, a real spring of water quite
untouched.
Five or six oaks grew in something like a semicircle, and in the middle
of the flat ground in front of them was an almost perfectly round pool,
not more than four or five feet across. The bottom of it in the middle
was pale sand which was continually rising up in little egg-shaped
mounds and falling down again. It was the clearest and strongest spring
of the kind I had ever seen, and I could have watched it for hours. I
did sit down by it and watch it for some time without thinking of
anything but the luck I had had to find it. But then I began to wonder
if it would say anything. Naturally I could not expect it to say
"_Track-up_" any more, for here I was at the end of it. So I listened
with some curiosity. It hardly made so much noise as the stream: the
pool was deeper. But I thought it must say something, and I put my head
down as close as I could to the surface of the water. If I am not
mistaken (and as things turned out I am sure I was right) the words
were: _Gather gather, pick pick_, or _quick quick_.
Now I had not been thinking about the plant for a little time; but, as
you may suppose, this brought it back to my mind and I got up and began
to look about at the roots of the old oaks which grew just round the
spring. No, none of the roots on this side which faced towards the water
were like that which I had seen--still, the feeling was strong upon me
that this, if any, was the kind of place, and even the very place, where
the plant must be. So I walked to the back of the trees, being careful
to go from right to left, according to the course of the sun.
Well, I was not mistaken. At the back of the middlemost oak-tree there
were the roots I had dreamt of with the moss and the holes like eyes,
and between them was the plant. I think the only thing which was new to
me in the look of it was that it was so extraordinarily _green_. It
seemed to have in it all the greenness that was possible or that would
be wanted for a whole field of grass.
I had some scruples about touching it. In fact, I actually went back to
the spring and listened, to make sure that it was still saying the same
thing. Yes, it was: "_Gather gather, pick_." But there was something
else every now and then which I could _not_ for the life of me make out
at first. I lay down, put my hand round my ear and held my breath. It
might have been _bark tree_ or _dark tree_ or _cask free_. I got
impatient at last and said:
"Well, I'm very sorry, but do what I will I _cannot_ make out what you
are trying to say."
Instantly a little spirt of water hit me on the ear, and I heard, as
clear as possible, what it was: "_Ask tree_."
I got up at once. "I _beg_ your pardon," I said, "of course. Thank you
very much;" and the water went on saying "_Gather gather, all right, dip
dip_."
After thinking how best to greet it, I went back to the oak, stood in
front of it and said (of course baring my head):
"Oak, I humbly desire your good leave to gather the green plant which
grows between your roots. If an acorn falls into this my right hand"
(which I held out) "I will count it that you answer yes--and give you
thanks." The acorn fell straight into the palm of my hand. I said, "I
thank you, Oak: good growth to you. I will lay this your acorn in the
place whence I gather the plant."
Then very carefully I took hold of the stalk of the plant (which was
very short, for, as I said, it grew rather flat on the ground) and
pulled, and to my surprise it came up as easily as a mushroom. It had a
clean round bulb without any rootlets and left a smooth neat hole in the
ground, in which, according to promise, I laid the acorn, and covered it
in with earth. I think it very likely that it will turn into a second
plant.
Then I remembered the last word of the spring and went back to dip the
plant in it. I had a shock when I did so, and it was lucky I was holding
it firm, for when it touched the water it struggled in my hand like a
fish or a newt and almost slipped out. I dipped it three times and
thought I felt it growing smaller in my hand: and indeed when I looked
at it I found it had shut up its leaves and curled them in quite close,
so that the whole thing was little more than a bulb. As I looked at it I
thought the water changed its note and said, "_That'll do, that'll do_."
I thought it was time to thank the spring for all it had done for me,
though, as you may suppose, I did not yet know in the least what was to
be done with the plant, or what use it was going to be.
So I went over and said in the politest words I could how much I was
obliged, and if there was anything I had or could do which would be
agreeable, how glad I should be. Then I listened carefully, for it
seemed by this time quite natural that I should get some sort of answer.
It came. There was a sudden change in the sound, and the water said
clearly and rapidly, "_Silver silver silver silver_." I felt in my
pocket. Luckily I had several shillings, sixpences and half-crowns. I
thought the best way was to offer them all, so I put them in the palm of
my right hand and held it under the water, open, just over the dancing
sand. For a few seconds the water ran over the silver without doing
anything: only the coins seemed to grow very bright and clean. Then one
of the shillings was very neatly and smoothly slid off, and then
another and a sixpence. I waited, but no more happened, and the water
seemed to draw itself down and away from my hand, and to say "_All
right_." So I got up.
The three coins lay on the bottom of the pool looking brighter than even
the newest I have ever seen, and gradually as they lay there they began
to appear larger. The shillings looked like half-crowns and the sixpence
like a shilling. I thought for a moment that it was because water
magnifies, but I soon saw that this could not be the reason, for they
went on growing larger, and of course thinner, until they finally spread
into a kind of silver film all over the bottom of the pool; and as they
did so the water began to take on a musical sound, much like the singing
that comes when you wet your finger and draw it round the edge of a
finger glass at dessert (which some people's idea of table manners
allows them to do). It was a pretty sight and sound, and I listened and
looked for a long time.
But all this time what had become of the plant? Why, when I gave the
silver to the spring I had wrapped the plant carefully in a silk
handkerchief and put it safe in my breast pocket. I took the
handkerchief out now, and for a moment I was afraid the plant was gone;
but it was not. It had shrunk to a very small whity-green ball. Now what
was to be done with it, or rather what could it do? It was plain to me
that it must have a strange and valuable property or virtue, since I had
been put on its track in such a remarkable way. I thought I could not do
better than ask the spring. I said, "O Spring of water, have I your good
leave to ask what I should do with this precious plant to put it to the
best use?" The silver lining of the spring made its words much easier to
catch when it said anything--for I should tell you that for the most
part now it did not speak, or not in any language that I could
understand, but rather sang--and it now said, "_Swallow swallow, drink,
swallow_."
_Prompt_ obedience, dear Jane, has always been my motto, as it is
doubtless yours, and I at once laid myself down, drank a mouthful of
water from the spring, and put the little bulb in my mouth. It instantly
grew soft and slipped down my throat. How prosaic! I have no idea what
it tasted like.
And again I addressed the spring: "Is there anything more for me to do?"
"_No no, no no, you'll see, you'll see--good-bye, good-bye_," was the
answer which came at once.
Accordingly I once more thanked the spring, wished it clear water, no
mud, no tramplings of cattle, and bade it farewell. But, I said, I
should hope to visit it again.
Then I turned away and looked about me, wondering whether, now that I
had swallowed the mysterious plant, I should see anything different. The
only thing I noticed was due, I suppose, not to the plant, but to the
spring; but it was odd enough. All the trees hard by were crowded with
little birds of all kinds sitting in rows on the branches as they do on
telegraph wires. I have no doubt they were listening to the silver bell
in the spring. They were quite still, and did not take any notice when I
began to walk away.
I said, you will remember, that the ground I was on was a sort of flat
terrace at the top of a steep slope. Now at one end this terrace just
went down into the wood, but at the other end there was a little mound
or hillock with thick underwood behind it. I felt a curiosity, an
inclination, to walk that way: I have very little doubt that the plant
was at the bottom of it. As I walked I looked at the ground, and noticed
a curious thing: the roots of the plants and grasses seemed to show more
than I was accustomed to see them.
It was not a great way to the hillock. When I got to it I wondered why I
had gone, for there was nothing odd about it. Still I stepped on to the
top, and then I did see something, namely, a square flat stone just in
front of my feet. I poked at it with my walking-stick, but somehow I did
not seem to touch it, nor was there any scraping noise. This was funny.
I tried again, and now I saw that my stick was not touching it at all;
there was something in between. I felt with my hands, and they met with
what seemed like grass and earth, certainly not like stone. _Then_ I
understood. The plant was the one which makes you able to see what is
under the ground!
I need not tell you all I thought, or how surprising and delightful it
was. The first thing was to get at the flat stone and find out what was
underneath it.
Accordingly, what with a knife and what with my fingers, I soon had it
uncovered: it was four or five inches under the surface. There were no
marks on it; it measured more than a foot each way. I lifted it. It was
the cover of a sort of box with bottom and sides each made of a slab
just like the lid. In this box was another, made of some dark metal,
which I took to be lead. I pulled it out and found that the lid of the
box was all of one piece with the rest, like a sardine tin. Evidently I
could not open it there and then. It was rather heavy, but I did not
care, and I managed without too much inconvenience to carry it home to
the place I was lodging in. Of course I put back the stone neatly and
covered it up with earth and grass again.
I was late for tea, but I had found what was better than tea.
II
THE FIRST JAR
That night I waited till the moon was up before trying to open the box.
I do not well know why, but it seemed the right thing, and I followed my
instinct, feeling that it might be the plant that made me think as I
did. I drew up the blind and laid the box on a table near the window,
where the moon shone full on it, and waited to see if anything else
occurred to me. Suddenly I heard a sort of metallic snap. I went and
looked at the box. Nothing appeared on the side nearest to me--but when
I turned it round I saw that all along the side which the moon had shone
upon there was a line along the metal. I turned another side to the
moonlight, and another snap came in two or three minutes. Of course I
went on. When the moon had made a groove on all four sides, I tried the
lid. It would not come off yet, so there was nothing to be done but
continue the process. Three times I did it: every side I turned to the
moon thrice, and when that was done the lid was free. I lifted it, and
what did I see in the box? All this writing would be very little use if
I did not tell you, so it must be done.
There were five compartments in the box: in each of them was a little
jar or vase of glass with a round body, a narrow neck, and spreading out
a little at the top. The top of each was covered with a plate of metal
and on each plate was a word or two in capital letters. On the one in
the middle there were the words _unge oculos_, the other jars had one
word apiece, _aures_, _linguam_, _frontem_, _pectus_.
Now, years ago, I took great pains to learn the Latin language, and on
many occasions I have found it _most useful_, whatever you may see to
the contrary in the newspaper: but seldom or never have I found it more
useful than now. I saw at once that the words meant _anoint the eyes_,
_the ears_, _the tongue_, _the forehead_, _the chest_. What would be the
result of my doing this, of course I knew no more than you: but I was
pretty sure that it would not do to try them all at once, and another
thing I felt, that it would be better to wait till next day before
trying any of them. It was past midnight now, so I went to bed: but
first I locked up the box in a cupboard, for I did not want anyone to
see it as yet.
* * * * *
Next day I woke bright and early, looked at my watch, found there was no
need to think about getting up yet, and, like a wise creature, went to
sleep again. I mention this, not merely by way of being jocose, but
because after I went to sleep I had a dream which most likely came from
the plant and certainly had to do with the box.
I seemed to see a room, or to be in a room about which I only noticed
that the floor was paved with mosaic in a pattern mostly red and white,
that there were no pictures on the walls and no fireplace, no sashes or
indeed panes in the window, and the moon was shining in very bright.
There was a table and a chest. Then I saw an old man, rather badly
shaved and bald, in a Roman dress, white for the most part, with a
purple stripe somewhere, and sandals. He looked by no means a wicked or
designing old man. I was glad of that. He opened the chest, took out my
box, and placed it carefully on the table in the moonlight. Then he went
to a part of the room I could not see, and I heard a sound of water
being poured into a metal basin, and he came into sight again, wiping
his hands on a white towel. He opened the box, took out a little silver
spoon and one of the jars, took off the lid and dipped the spoon in the
jar and touched first his right eye and then his left with it. Then he
put the jar and the spoon back, laid the lid on the box and put it back
in the chest. After that he went to the window and stood there looking
out, and seemed to be very much amused with what he saw. That was all.
"Hints for me," I remember thinking. "Perhaps it will be best not to
touch the box before the moon is up to-night, and always with washed
hands." I suppose I woke up immediately, for it was all very fresh in my
mind when I did.
It was something of a disappointment to have to put off my experiments
till the night came round. But it was all for the best, for letters came
by the post which I had to attend to: in fact, I was obliged to go to
the town a little way off to see someone and to send telegrams and so
on. I was a little doubtful about the seeing things underground, but I
soon found that unless I--so to say--turned on the tap, and specially
wished and tried to use the power, it did not interfere with my ordinary
seeing. When I did, it seemed to come forward from the back of my eyes,
and was stronger than the day before. I could see rabbits in their
burrows and followed the roots of one oak-tree very deep down. Once it
threatened to be awkward, when I stooped to pick up a silver coin in the
street, and grazed my knuckle against a paving stone, under which, of
course, it was.
So much for that. By the way, I had taken a look at the box after
breakfast, I found (not very much to my surprise) that the lid was as
tight on it as when I found it first.
After dinner that evening I put out the light--the moon being now
bright--placed the box on the table, washed my hands, opened it and,
shutting my eyes, put my hand on one of the jars at random and took it
out. As I had rather expected, I heard a little rattle as I did so, and
feeling in the compartment, I found a little, a very little, spoon. All
was well. Now to see which jar chance or the plant had chosen for my
first experiment. I took it to the window: it was the one marked
_aures_--ears--and the spoon had on the handle a letter A. I opened the
jar. The lid fitted close but not over tightly. I put in the spoon as
the old man had done, as near as I could remember. It brought out a very
small drop of thick stuff with which I touched first my right ear and
then my left. When I had done so I looked at the spoon. It was perfectly
dry. I put it and the jar back, closed the box, locked it up, and, not
knowing in the least what to expect, went to the open window and put my
head out.
For some little time I heard nothing. That was to be expected, and I was
not in the least inclined to distrust the jar. Then I was rewarded; a
bat flew by, and I, who have not heard a bat even squeak these twenty
years, now heard this one say in a whistling angry tone, "Would you,
would you, _I've_ got you--no, drat, drat." It was not a very exciting
remark, but it was enough to show me that a whole new world (as the
books say) was open to me.
This, of course, was only a beginning. There were some plants and
flowering shrubs under the window, and though I could see nothing, I
began to hear voices--two voices--talking among them. They sounded
young: of course they were anyhow very small, but they seemed to belong
to young creatures of their kind.
"Hullo, I say, what have you got there? Do let's look; you might as
well."
Then a pause--another voice: "I believe it's a bad one."
_Number one_: "Taste it."
_Number two_, after another pause, with a slight sound (very diminutive)
of spitting: "Heugh! bad! I should rather think it was. Maggot!"
_Number one_ (after laughing rather longer than I thought kind): "Look
here--don't chuck it away--let's give it to the old man. Here--shove the
piece in again and rub it over--here he is!" (Very demurely): "O sir,
we've got such a nice-looking----" (_I could not catch what it was_)
"here; we thought you might perhaps like it, sir. Would you, sir?... Oh
no, thank you, sir, we've had plenty, sir, but this was the biggest we
found."
A third voice said something; it was a deeper one and less easy to hear.
_Number two_: "Bitten, sir? Oh no, I don't think so. Do you ----?" (_a
name which I did not make out_).
_Number one_: "Why, how could it be?"
_Number three_ again--angry, I thought.
_Number two_ (rather anxiously): "But, sir, really, sir, I don't much
like them.... Must I really, sir?... O _sir_, it's got a maggot in it,
and I believe they're poison." (_Smack, smack, smack, smack._)
Two voices, very lamentable: "O _sir_, sir, please sir!"
A considerable pause, and sniffing. Then _Number two_, in a broken
voice: "You silly fool, why did you go laughing like that right under
his snout? You might have known he'd cog it." ("Cog." I had not heard
the word since 1876.) "There'll be an awful row to-morrow. Look here, I
shall go to bed."
The voices died away; I thought _Number one_ seemed to be apologizing.
That was all I heard _that_ night. After eleven o'clock things seemed to
get very still, and I began to feel just a little apprehensive lest
something of a less innocent kind should come along. So I went to bed.
III
THE SECOND JAR
Next day, I must say, was very amusing. I spent the whole of it in the
fields just strolling about and sitting down, as the fancy took me,
listening to what went on in the trees and hedges. I will not write down
yet the kind of thing I heard, for it was only the beginning. I had not
yet found out the way of using the new power to the very best advantage.
I felt the want of being able to put in a remark or a question of my own
every now and then. But I was pretty sure that the jar which had
_linguam_ on it would manage that.
Very nearly all the talking I heard was done by the birds and
animals--especially the birds; but perhaps half a dozen times, as I sat
under a tree or walked along the road, I was aware of voices which
sounded exactly like those of people (some grown-up and some children)
passing by or coming towards me and talking to each other as they went
along. Needless to say, there was nothing to be _seen_: no movement of
the grass and no track on the dusty road, even when I could tell exactly
where the people who owned the voices must be. It interested me more
than anything else to guess what sort of creatures they were, and I
determined that the next jar I tried should be the Eye one. Once, I must
tell you, I ventured to say "Good afternoon" when I heard a couple of
these voices within a yard of me. I think the owners must nearly have
had a fit. They stopped dead: one of them gave a sort of cry of
surprise, and then, I believe, they ran or flew away. I felt a little
breath of wind on my face, and heard no more. It wasn't (as I know now)
that they couldn't see me: but they felt much as you would if a tree or
a cow were to say "Good afternoon" to you.
When I was at supper that evening, the cat came in, as she usually did,
to see what was going. I had always been accustomed to think that cats
talk when they mew, dogs when they bark, and so on. It is not so at all.
Their talking is almost all done (except when they are in a great state
of mind) in a tone which you cannot possibly hear without help. Mewing
is for the most part only shouting without saying any words. Purring is,
as we often say, singing.
Well, this cat was an ordinary nice creature, tabby, and in she came,
and sat watching me while I had soup. To all appearance she was as
innocent as a lamb--but no matter for that. What she was saying was
something of this kind:
"Get on with it, do: shove it down, lap it up! Who cares about soup? Get
to business. I know there's fish coming."
When the fish actually came, there was a great deal of good feeling
shown at first. "Oh, _how_ much we have to be thankful for, all of us,
have we not? Fish, fish: what a thought! Dear, kind, generous people all
around us, all striving to supply us with what is best and pleasantest
for us."
Then there was a silence for a short time, then in a somewhat different
tone I heard: "Ah dear! the longer I live, the wiser I find it is not to
expect too much consideration from others! Self-love! how few, how
terribly few, are really free from it! The nature that knows how to take
a hint, how rare it is!"
Another short silence, and then: "There you go--another great bit. I
wonder you don't choke or burst! Disgusting! A good scratch all down
your horrible fat cheek is what you want, and I know some cats that
would give it you. No more notion how to behave than a cockroach."
About this time I rang the bell and the fish was taken away. The cat
went too, circling round the maid with trusting and childlike glances,
and I heard her saying in the former tone:
"Well, I daresay after all there are _some_ kind hearts in the world,
some that can feel for a poor weary creature, and know what a deal of
strength and nourishment even the least bit of fish can give----" And I
lost the rest.
When the time came and the box was open once more, I duly anointed my
eyes and went to the window. I knew something of what I might expect to
see, but I had not realized at all how much of it there would be. In the
first place there were a great many buildings, in fact a regular
village, all about the little lawn on which my window looked. They were,
of course, not big; perhaps three feet high was the largest size. The
roofs seemed to be of tiles, the walls were white, the windows were
brightly lighted, and I could see people moving about inside. But there
were plenty of people outside, too--people about six inches
high--walking about, standing about, talking, running, playing some game
which might have been hockey. These were on levelled spaces, for the
grass, neatly kept as it was, would have come half-way up their legs;
and there were some driving along smooth tracks in carriages drawn by
horses of the right size, which were really the most charming little
animals I ever saw.
You may suppose that I should not soon have got tired of watching them
and listening to the little treble buzz of voices that went on, but I
was interrupted. Just in front of me I heard what I can only call a
snigger. I looked down, and saw four heads supported by four pairs of
elbows leaning on the window-sill and looking up at me. They belonged to
four boys who were standing on the twigs of a bush that grew up against
the wall, and who seemed to be very much amused. Every now and again
one of them nudged another and pointed towards me; and then, for some
unexplained reason, they sniggered again. I felt my ears growing warm
and red.
"Well, young gentlemen," I said, "you seem to be enjoying yourselves."
No answer. "I appear to be so fortunate as to afford you some
gratification," I went on, in my sarcastic manner. "Perhaps you would do
me the honour of stepping into my poor apartment?" Again no answer, but
more undisguised amusement. I was thinking out a really withering
remark, when one of them said:
"Do look at his nose. I wonder if they know how ridiculous they are. I
_should_ like to talk to one of them for five minutes."
"Well," I said, "that can be managed very easily, and I assure you I
should be equally glad of the opportunity. _My_ remarks would deal with
the subject of good manners."
Another one spoke this time, but did not answer me. "Oh, I don't know,"
he said, "I expect they're pretty stupid. They look it--at least this
one does."
"Can they talk?" said the third. "I've never heard 'em."
"No, but you can see them moving their jaws and mouths and things. This
one did just now."
I saw how it was now, and, becoming cooler, I recognized that these
youths were behaving very much as I might have done myself in the
presence of someone who I was sure could neither see nor hear me. I even
smiled. One of them pointed at me at once:
"Thought of a joke, I s'pose. Don't keep it all to yourself, old chap."
At this moment the fourth, who had not said anything so far, but seemed
to have been listening, piped up: "I say! I believe I know what it is
that makes that hammering noise: it's something he has got in his
clothes."
I could not resist this. "Right again," I said; "it's my watch, and
you're very welcome to look at it." And I took it out and put it on the
window-sill.
An awful horror and surprise came into their faces. In a second they had
dived down like so many ducks. In another second I saw them walking
across the grass, and each of them threw his arms round the waist or the
neck of one of the elder people who were walking about among the houses.
The person so attacked pulled himself up and listened attentively to
what the boy was saying. The particular one I was watching looked
towards my window and then burst out laughing, slapped the boy on the
back, and resumed his walk. The boy went slowly off towards one of the
houses. One or two of the other "men" came and stood nearer to the
window, looking up. I thought I would venture a bow, and made one rather
ceremoniously. It did not produce much effect, and I could not at the
moment think of anything I could do that would show them quite clearly
that I saw them. They went on looking at me quietly enough, and then I
heard a deep low bell, seemingly very far off, toll five times. They
heard it too, turned sharply round and walked off to the houses. Soon
after that the lights in the windows died down and everything became
very still. I looked at my watch. It was ten o'clock.
I waited for a while to see if anything would happen, but there was
nothing; so I got some books out (which took a few minutes) and before I
settled down to them I thought I would just take one more look out of
the window. Where were all the little houses? At the first glance I
thought they had vanished, but it was not exactly so. I found I could
still see the chimneys above the grass, but as I looked they too
disappeared. It was done very neatly: there was no hole, the turf closed
in upon the roofs as they sank down, just as if it was of india-rubber.
There was not a trace left of houses or roads or playgrounds or
anything.
I was strongly tempted to go out and walk over the site of the village,
but I did not. For one thing I was afraid I might disturb the people of
the house, and besides there was a mist coming up over the meadows which
sloped away outside the garden. So I stopped where I was.
But what a very odd mist, I began to think. It was not coming in all in
one piece as it should. It was more in patches or even pillars of a
smoky grey which moved at different rates, some of them occasionally
standing still, others even seeming to go to and fro. And now I began to
hear something like a hollow whispering coming from their direction. It
was not conversation, for it went on quite continuously in the same
tone: it sounded more as if something was being recited. I did not like
it.
Then I saw what I liked less. Seven of these pillars of mist, each
about the size of a man, were standing in a row just outside the garden
fence, and in each I thought I saw two dull red eyes; and the hollow
whispering grew louder.
Just then I heard a noise behind me in the room, as if the fire-irons
had suddenly fallen down. So they had: and the reason why they had was
that an old horseshoe which was on the mantelpiece had, for no reason
that I could see, tumbled over and knocked them. Something I had heard
came into my mind. I took the horseshoe and laid it on the window-sill.
The pillars of mist swayed and quivered as if a sudden gust of wind had
struck them, and seemed all at once to go farther off; and the hollow
murmur was no longer to be heard. I shut the window and went to bed.
But, the last thing, I looked out once again. The meadow was clear of
mist and bright beneath the light of the moon.
As I lay in bed I thought and thought over what I had seen last. I was
quite sure that the pillars of mist concealed some beings who wished me
no good: but why should they have any spite against me? I was also sure
that they wanted to get into the house: but again, why? You may think I
was slow in the wits, but I must confess that some few minutes passed
before I guessed. Of course they wanted to get hold of the box with the
five jars. The thought disturbed me so much that I got up, lighted a
candle, and went to the cupboard to see if all was safe. Yes, the box
was there, but the cupboard door, which I knew I had locked, was
unfastened, and when I had to turn the key it became plain that the lock
was hampered and useless. How could this have come about? Earlier in the
evening it had been perfectly right, and nobody had been in the room
since I locked it last.
Whoever had done it, they had made the cupboard no safe place for the
box. I took it into the bedroom and after a minute's thought cleared
out a space in a suit-case which I had brought with me, locked it in
that, and put the key on the ring of my watch-chain. Watch and all went
under my pillow, and once more I got into bed.
IV
THE SMALL PEOPLE
You will have made sure that the next jar I meant to try was the one for
the tongue, in hopes that it would help me to speak to some of the
creatures. Though I looked forward to the experiment very much, and felt
somewhat restless until I had made it, I did get a good deal of
amusement out of what I saw and heard the next day. The small people
were not to be seen--at least not in the morning. No, I am wrong: I
found a bunch of three of them--young ones--asleep in a hollow tree.
They woke up and looked at me without much interest, and when I was
withdrawing my head they blew kisses to me. I am afraid there is no
doubt they did so in derision. But there were others. I passed a
cottage garden in which a little dog was barking most furiously. It
seemed to be barking at a clothes-line, on which, with a lot of other
things, was a print dress with rather a staring pattern of flowers. The
dress caught my eye, and so did something red at the top which stuck up
above the line. I gave it another glance, and really I had a most
dreadful shock. It was a face. I gazed at it in horror, and was just
gathering my wits to run and call for help or something, when I saw that
it was laughing. Then I realized that it could not be an ordinary
person, hanging as it was on a thin bit of cord and blowing to and fro
in the breeze. I went nearer, staring at it with all my eyes, and made
out that it was the face of an old woman, very cheerful and ruddy, and,
as I said, laughing and swinging to and fro. Suddenly she seemed to
catch my eye and to see that I saw her, and in a flash she was off the
line and round the corner of the house, nearly tumbling over the dog as
she went. It rushed after her, still very angry, but soon came trotting
back, rather out of breath, and _that_ incident was over.
I walked on. Among the village people I met, there were one or two whom
I didn't think I had seen before--elderly, bright-eyed people they
were--who seemed very much surprised when I said "Good morning" to them,
and stopped still, looking after me, when I passed on. At last, some
little way outside the village, I saw in the distance the same
bright-coloured dress that had been on the clothes-line. The person who
wore it was going slowly, and looking in the grass and hedges, and
sometimes stooping to pick a plant, as it seemed. I quickened my pace
and came up with her, and when I was just behind her, I cleared my
throat rather loudly and said, "Fine day," or words to that effect.
You should have seen her jump! I was well paid for the fright she had
given me just before. However, the startled look cleared away from her
face, and she drew herself up and looked at me very calmly.
"Yes," she said, "it's a fine day." Then she actually blushed and went
on: "I think I ought to beg your pardon for giving you such a turn just
now."
"Well," I said, "I certainly was a good deal startled, but no harm was
done. The dog took it more to heart than I did."
She gave a short laugh. "Yes," she said. "I hardly know why I was
behaving like that. I suppose we all of us feel skittish at times." She
paused and said with some little hesitation, "You have them, I suppose?"
and at the same time she rapidly touched her ears, eyes and mouth with
her forefinger.
I looked at her in some doubt, for I thought, might not she be one of
the unknown who wished to get hold of the Five Jars? But her eye was
honest, and my instinct was to trust her: so I nodded, and put my
finger on my lips.
"Of course," she said. "Well, you are the first since I was a little
thing, and that's fourteen hundred years ago." (You may think I opened
my eyes.) "Yes, Vitalis was the last, and he lived in the villa--they
called it so--down by the stream. You'll find the place some of these
days if you look. I heard talk yesterday that someone had got them, and
I'm told the mist was about last night. Perhaps you saw it?"
"Yes," I said, "I did, and I guessed what it meant." And I told her all
that had happened, and ended by asking if she could kindly advise me
what to do.
She thought for a moment, and then handed me a little bunch of the
leaves she held in her hand. "Four-leaved clover," she said. "I know
nothing better. Lay it on the box itself. You'll hear of them again, be
sure."
"Who are _they_?" I asked in a whisper.
She shook her head. "Not allowed," was all she would say. "I must be
going"; and she was gone, sure enough. You might suppose (as I did, when
I came to think of it) that my new sight ought to have been able to see
what became of her. I think it would, if she had gone straight away from
me; but what I believe she did was to dart round behind me and then go
away in a straight line, so that I was left looking in front of me while
she was travelling away behind me like a bullet from a gun. You need
practice with these things, and I had only been at it a couple of days.
I turned and walked rather quickly homewards, for I thought it would be
wise to protect my box as soon as possible now that I had the means. I
think it was fortunate that I did.
As I opened the garden gate I saw an old woman coming down the path--an
old woman very unlike the last. "Old" was not the word for her face:
she might have been born before the history-books begin. As to her
expression, if ever you saw a snake with red rims to its eyes and the
expression of a parrot, you might have some idea of it. She was hobbling
along with a stick, in quite the proper manner, but I felt certain that
all that was put on, and that she could have glided as swift as an adder
if she pleased. I confess I was afraid of her. I had a feeling that she
knew everything and hated everybody.
"And what," I suddenly thought, "has she been up to? If she has got at
the box, where am I? and more than that, what mischief will she and her
company work among the small people and the birds and beasts?" There
would be no mercy for them; a glance at her eye told me that.
It was an immense relief to see that she could not possibly have got the
box about her, and another relief when my eye travelled to the door of
the house and I saw no fewer than three horseshoes nailed above it. I
smiled to myself. Oh, how angry she looked! But she had to act her part,
and with feeble curtseys and in a very small hoarse trembling voice she
wished me a good day (though I noticed her pointing to the ground with
her thumb as she said the words) and would be very obliged if I could
tell her the right time. I was going to pull out my watch (and if I had,
she would have seen a certain key we know of), when something said
suddenly and clearly to my brain, "Look out," and by good luck I heard a
clock inside the house strike one before I could answer.
"Just struck one," was my reply accordingly, and I said it as innocently
as I could. She drew her breath in hard and quivered all over, and her
mouth remained open like a cat's when it is using its worst expressions,
and when she eventually thanked me I leave it to you to imagine how
gracefully she did it.
Well, she had no more cards to play at the moment, and no excuse for
remaining. I stood my ground and watched her out of the gate. A path led
down the meadow, and, much against her will no doubt, she had to keep up
the pretence and toil painfully along it until she reached another hedge
and could reckon on being out of my sight. After that I neither saw nor
expected to see anything more of her. I went up to my room and found all
safe, and laid the four-leaved clover on the box. At luncheon I took
occasion to find out from the maid, without asking her in so many words,
whether the old woman had been visible to her; evidently she had not:
evidently also, the evil creatures were really on the track of the Five
Jars, knew that I had them, and had a very fair idea of where they were
kept.
However, if the maid had not seen her, the cat had, and murmured a good
deal to herself, and was in a rather nervous state. She sat, with her
ears turned different ways, on the window-sill, looking out, and
twitching her back uncomfortably, like an old lady who feels a draught.
When I was available, she came and sat on my knee (a very uncommon
attention on her part) with an air half of wishing to be protected and
half of undertaking to protect me.
"If there is fish to-night," I said, "you shall have some." But I was
not yet in a position to make myself understood.
"Pussy's been sleepin' on your box all the afternoon, sir," said the
maid when I came in to tea. "I couldn't get her to come off; and when I
did turn her out of the room, I do believe she climbed up and got in
again by the winder."
"I don't mind at all," I said; "let her be there if she likes." And
indeed I felt quite grateful to the cat. I don't know that she could
have done much if there had been any attempt on the box, but I was sure
her intentions were good.
There was fish that evening, and she had a good deal of it. She did not
say much that I could follow, but chiefly sang songs without words.
* * * * *
Not to go over the preliminaries again, I did, when the proper time
came, touch my tongue with the contents of the third jar. I found that
it worked in this way: I could not hear what I was saying myself, when I
was talking to an animal: I only _thought_ the remark very clearly, and
then I felt my tongue and lips moving in an odd fashion, which I can't
describe. But with the small people in human shape it was different. I
spoke in the ordinary way to them, and though I dare say my voice went
up an octave or two, I can't say I perceived it.
The village was there again to-night, and the life going on in it seemed
much the same. I was set upon making acquaintance in a natural sort of
way with the people, and as it would not do to run any risk of
startling them, I just took my place near the window and made some
pretence of playing Patience. I thought it likely that some of the young
people would come and watch me, in spite of the fright they had had the
night before. And it was not long before I heard a rustling in the
shrubs under the window and voices saying:
"Is he in there? Can you see? Oh, I say, _do_ look out: you all but had
me over that time!"
They were suddenly quiet after this, and apparently one must have, very
cautiously, climbed up and looked into the room. When he got down again
there was a great fuss.
"No, is he really?" "What d'you say he was doing?" "What sort of charm?"
"I say, d'you think we'd better get down?" "No, but what is he really
doing?" "Laying out rows of flat things on the table, with marks on
them." "I don't believe it." "Well, you go and look yourself." "All
right, I shall." "Yes, but, I say, do look out: suppose you get shut in
and we're late for the bell?" "Why, you fool, I shan't go into the room,
only stop on the window-sill." "Well, I don't know, but I do believe he
saw us last night, and my father said he thought so too." "Oh, well, he
can't move very quick, anyway, and he's some way off the window. _I_
shall go up."
I managed, without altering my position too much, to keep my eye on the
window-sill, and, sure enough, in a second or two a small round head
came into sight. I went on with my game. At first I could see that the
watcher was ready to duck down at the slightest provocation, but as I
took no sort of notice, he gained confidence, leant his elbows on the
sill, and then actually pulled himself up and sat down on it. He bent
over and whispered to the others below, and it was not long before I saw
a whole row of heads filling up the window-sill from end to end. There
must have been a dozen of them. I thought the time was come, and without
moving, and in as careless a tone as I could, I said:
"Come in, gentlemen, come in; don't be shy." There was a rustle, and two
or three heads disappeared, but nobody said anything. "Come in, if you
like," I said again; "you can hear the bell quite well from here, and I
shan't shut the window."
"Promise!" said the one who was sitting on the sill.
"I promise, honour bright," I said, whereupon he made the plunge. First
he dropped on to the seat of a chair by the window, and from that to the
floor. Then he wandered about the room, keeping at a distance from me at
first, and, I have no doubt, watching very anxiously to see whether I
had any intention of pouncing on him. The others followed, first one by
one and then two or three at a time. Some remained sitting on the
window-sill, but most plucked up courage to get down on to the floor and
explore.