I have a faint recollection of feeling myself swung, and jolted down a
number of stairs, and of a cold breeze striking on my face. And
doubtless they carried me down; for the room in which I had found my
enemy was two floors above the cellarage. When I came to myself, I had
no idea where in the world I was. The air was heavy with a most
powerful and oppressive smell, a reek and taint as of death and
corruption. It made me faint, and I think I must have gone off again.
Lifting my head at last, I began to look languidly around. The table,
or working-bench, on which I lay, was near the centre of a long and
narrow room, gloomy and cold, even in the dog-days, floored with
moss-green stone, and far below the ground-level. Those flag-stones, I
suppose, were bedded immediately upon the tough blue London clay, that
most unconquerable stratum, sullen, damp, and barren. I could only see
two windows in the long low room, both upon the same side, horizontally
fixed, and several feet from the floor. Heavy iron bars,
perpendicularly set, crossed them at narrow intervals, as if it had been
the condemned cell in a prison. One of these windows was already
darkened with a truss of straw, and sacks over it, placed outside the
glass; as is done in Corsica, during Vendetta siege. The technical term
is "inceppar le fenestre." Through the other window (which looked up a
slide or scoop of brickwork, like a malt-shovel, to the flabby garden
behind the house), I saw an arm, the colour and shape of an American
herring, very active with a hammer.
I knew that arm at once. Sticking out at the joints, like the spurs of
a pear-tree, welted and wired with muscle between them, like the
drumstick of a turkey, but flat as if plaited of hide, no friend of mine
could claim it, except the Corsican Cora. Deliberately she drove the
nails, like a gardener training a tree, paying undue attention to her
skinny knuckles; then she lifted the sacks, stooped down and looked in,
grimly reconnoitring me. By the slanting light I saw what a horrible
place I lay in. Around and under me, on the furrowed timber, were dull
plum-coloured blotches, where the slowly trickling blood of many an
unlucky dog and cat had curdled; even if there were not any shed from
nobler veins. Reaching in a back-handed way towards the jagged margin,
I grasped a cold hard cylinder. It was an iron hold-fast, like, but
larger than the instrument to be seen in every carpenter's bench, which
works in a collared hole, and has a claw for clutching. Under it, no
doubt, many a poor live victim had quivered and sobbed in vain. At my
head were two square slides, fitted with straps of stout unyielding web.
Near them was a rasped iron plane working along a metal bed or groove,
with a solid T piece, and a winch to adjust it.
As with morbid observation I surveyed these fiendish devices, and many
others which I cannot stop to tell of, I who love almost every creature
made by our own Maker, especially those to whom we are lent as Gods, my
flesh, I say, began to creep, and my blood to curdle, as if the
dissecting knife were already in my diaphragm. Surely those who in full
manhood torture His innocent creatures--poor things that cannot plead or
weep, but worship the foot that kicks them--surely these, if any, we may
without presumption say that He who made will judge. Four brief lines
by a modern poet, too well known for me to quote them, express a grand
and simple truth, seldom denied, more seldom felt.
But here am I, laid out in this fearful place, perhaps myself a subject
for vivisection. No, I am not strapped; even my feet are free. Off the
grouted and grimy table I roll with all possible speed, the table where
even strong Judy must have lain still as a skeleton. Of skeletons there
were plenty ranged around the walls, and other hideous things which I
cannot bear to think of. One was a monstrous crocodile, with scales
like a shed fir-cone, all reflexed and dry, and ringent lips of leather,
and teeth that seemed to look the wrong way, like a daisy-rake
over-worked. Another was some pulled-out beast, that never could hit
his own joints again--plesiosauri, deinosauri, marsupials,
proboscidians--I am sure I cannot tell, having never been at college. I
only know that at every one of them I shuddered, and shrugged my
shoulders, and wished that he smelled rather nicer. Then there were
numbers of things always going up and down, in stuff like clarified
syrup, according to the change of temperature, just as leeches do in a
pickle-bottle. Snakes as well, and other reptiles streaked like sticks
of peppermint, and centipedes, and Rio wrigglers, called I think La
Croya. It was enough in that vault-like room, which felt like the
scooping of an August iceberg; it was more than enough to strike a chill
to the marrow, as of one who sleeps in a bed newly brought from the
cellar. But the worst and most horrible thing of all was the core and
nucleus of the smell that might be felt, the half-dissected body of a
porpoise, leaning on a dozen stout cross-poles. It was enough to make
the blood of a dog run cold.
Overpowered by sights and smells, and the fear of mingling with them, I
huddled away in a corner, and tried in vain to take my eyes from the
only sign of life yet left, the motion of Cora's club-like arm. The
poor old woman enjoyed my interest in her work, and when she had
finished, she made me a mock salaam, and kissed the pixie's heart.
Then, with a grin, she dropped the rough hangings, and left me in
ghastly twilight.
As the sacks fell over the window-frame, I lost all presence of mind,
all honest indignation, everything but a coward horror, and the
shrinking of life from death. With all the strength of my chest and
throat, I cast forth, as a cannon discharges, one long, volleyed,
agonising shriek. As it rang among the skeletons, and rattled their
tissue-less joints, a small square grating in the upper panel of the
heavy door swung back, and in the opening appeared the face of Lepardo
Della Croce. He lifted his hat with a pleasant air, and addressed me
with a smile,
"Ah! now, this I call a pity, a great pity, indeed, Miss Vaughan; but
that I always fear the imputation of pedantry, I should call it a
bathos. You can hardly be aware that since you made that dreadful
noise, you have fallen in my opinion from a Porcia, or an Arria, to a
common maid Marian. Fie, fie, it is too disappointing. It saps one's
candid faith in the nobility of human nature. But, as I can no longer
appeal to your courage or spirit, I must, it appears, address myself to
your reason; if, as I am fain to hope, your nerves have not impaired it.
Be assured, then, once for all, that it is a vulgar error to exert your
sweet voice in so high a key. My little dissecting theatre, though not
so perfect as I could wish, particularly in ventilation, is nevertheless
so secured from erroneous plebeian sympathy, that all the cats in London
might squall away their fabulous nine lives without affecting the tea
and muffins of the excellent old ladies who live on either side of us.
That noble tabby, on the third shelf right, was a household god at No.
39, until he had the honour of attracting my attention. Breathe not a
word about him, if you ever come out. Twice a day, I sent to inquire,
with my kindest compliments, whether poor Miss Jenkinson had recovered
her darling cat. Meanwhile, by inanition scientifically graduated, I
succeeded in absorbing his adipose deposit, and found him one of the
kindest subjects I have had the pleasure of manipulating. Be not
alarmed, Miss Vaughan; I have no intention of starving you; neither, if
you behave with courtesy, will I even dissect you. I only mention these
little facts to convince you of our pleasing retirement. The ceiling of
your room is six feet below the level of the street, the walls are three
feet thick and felted, and the bricks set all as headers, which makes a
great difference in conducting power. The windows, as perhaps you have
already observed, are secluded from vulgar eyes, and command a very
partial view of our own little Eden. Moreover, if by exerting your
nobly-developed chest, to an extent which for your sake I affectionately
deprecate, you even succeeded at last in producing an undulation--do you
remember my lecture upon the conflicting theories of sound?--or a
vibration in the tympanum of a neighbour, I fear you would be
regarded--it shocks me greatly to think of it--as a cat of rare vocal
power, unduly agitated by my feeble pursuit of science. Therefore, let
me conclude my friendly counsel in the language of all your
theatres--ah! you have no drama now in this country, such poverty of
invention--but in the words, which I regret to say, appear from six to a
dozen times in every British trugody, Miss Vaughan, 'Be calm.'"
Through all this brutal sneering, I stood resolutely with my back turned
to him. Perhaps he thought that I would stoop to supplication. I could
have bitten my tongue off for that contemptible shriek; it was such a
triumph to him.
"Ah! sulky, I fear; young lady sulky with the poor Professor, who tries
to develop her mind. Fie, fie, very small and ungrateful, and not half
so grand a study as the attitude of contempt. What a pity poor Conrad
was not present an hour ago! How he might have enriched his little book
of schemata. Several most magnificent poses. But I fear the poor
fellow has taken his last chip. A sad thing, was it not? Why, how you
start, Miss Vaughan! Oh, you can show your face at last! And how pale!
Well, if eyes could only kill--"
"What is it--I mean be good enough just to go away."
"To be sure I will. I have a little matter on hand which must not be
delayed; to leave my carte de visite upon the right man, this time. I
cannot sufficiently thank you for your invaluable information. Is that
snug little entrance practicable still? Very hospitable people they
used to be at Vaughan Park. Fare you well, young lady; I will not keep
you in any unnecessary suspense. After my return, I shall arrange for
your release; if it can be made compatible with my safety. You will
have plenty of food, and much time for meditation. Let your thoughts of
me be liberal and kindly. I never injure any one, when I can avoid it.
I only regret that the air you breathe will impair, for the while, your
roses. But what an opportunity of analysing the gases! Carbonic acid
predominant. Do you gratify me by bearing in mind a lecture, at which
you were very attentive, on Malaria and Miasma?"
Taunting to the last, and sneering even at himself, as men of the
blackest dye of wickedness are very apt to do, he closed the grating
carefully, and I heard the ring of the metal cross on the rough stone
steps. He had the boots of vengeance on; his errand was stealthy and
cold-blooded murder; me, who had never harmed him, he was abandoning
perhaps to death, certainly to madness--and yet to his own ideas, all he
was doing was right.
Frantic at the horrors around me, and still more so at those impending
through my own rash folly, I tore and scratched at the solid door, and
flung myself against it, till my nails were broken, and my fingers
bleeding, and all my body palpitating with impotent mad fury. In
weariness at last and shame at this wild outburst, I sat upon the floor,
for I could not touch the operator's stool, and tried to collect my
thoughts. Was there any possibility of saving my poor Uncle? It must
now be nearly four o'clock on the Friday afternoon, or at least I so
computed it. The beautiful watch given me by my Uncle had stopped
through my reckless violence, and the breaking of the glass. The hands,
as I could barely perceive, stood at a quarter to four. The
express-train, by which Mrs. Fletcher and I were to have returned, would
leave Paddington at five P.M. and reach Gloucester soon after eight.
Lepardo Della Croce would catch it easily, and perhaps would accomplish
his foul design that night. My only hope of preventing him lay in his
own tenacity of usage. From my Uncle's account, I knew, that on their
cursed Vendetta enterprises, a certain pilgrimage on foot is, in many
families, regarded as a matter of honour. This usage owes its origin
perhaps to some faint trace of mercy, some wish to afford the evil
passions one more chance of relenting to the milder reflections of
weariness, and the influence of the air. Be that as it may, I believed
that the custom was hereditary in the Della Croce family; and if so, the
enemy would finish his journey on foot, quitting the train some distance
on this side of Gloucester. Therefore if I could contrive to escape in
the course of the night, I might yet be in time.
All the rest of the daylight, such as it was, I spent in examining, inch
by inch, every part of the loathsome chamber, which was now my dungeon.
By this time all my patience, habitual more than natural, had returned,
and all my really inborn determination and hope. Surely I had been
every bit as badly off before, and had struggled through quite as
hopeless a difficulty. If arduous courage and tough perseverance were of
any avail, those four walls should not hold me, though they might be
three feet thick. So stopping both my nostrils with cotton-wool from a
specimen (for the smell was most insufferable), and pinning up my dress,
I set to work in earnest. First, I examined the windows: there was
nothing to hope from them; I could never loosen a bar, and even if I
could, I should only escape from one prison to another, for the garden
behind the house was surrounded with high dead walls. Fireplace there
was none; the door had already baffled me; could I dig through the party
wall, and into the adjoining house? Most likely it was all a falsehood
and boast about the thickness, intended perhaps to discourage me from
attempting the easiest way. And in so damp a place, the mortar probably
would be soft.
So, after searching and groping, ever so long, to find, if possible, one
loose brick to begin with, I drew from my pocket a knife, of which I was
very proud, "because my father had given it me; and I looked at it
wistfully in the dusk, because I feared so to break it. Nothing but the
thought that life itself was at stake would ever have induced me to use
that beloved knife for work so very unsuitable.
It was a knife of strong but by no means elegant make, shorter in the
handle, and squarer in the joints, than the rising generation of knives.
Very likely Sheffield of the present day would laugh at it; but like
most who laugh, it could not produce the fellow. My father himself had
owned it for nearly thirty years, and had treated it with the high
respect which an honest knife deserves. From this due regard his
daughter had not derogated, and the knife was now as good as when it
left the maker's hand. It had never been honed in utter ignorance of
proper plane and angle, as nearly all knives are, and by none so often
as the professional knife-grinder. I never dared to meddle with it,
except on a very mild razor-strap; and all it was allowed to do was to
mend my pens--I, Clara Vaughan, hate steel paper-stabbers--and sometimes
to cut my pencils.
Now, this true and worshipful knife was to cut bricks and mortar! In my
natural affection for it, I hesitated and trembled, and knowing what was
to come it closed upon my fingers. Oh, ruthless Atta Naevia! trusty
knife, fall to!
Meanwhile old Cora showed at the heavy grating her countenance demiss;
to all my eager adjurations, promises, and prayers, she answered not a
word, but grimly smiled, like an ancient bird, beyond the reach of
chaff. She handed me in a pint of milk, and a loaf of the variety
termed in London a "twopenny brick." A red herring on the toasting-fork,
dripping with its own unction, was hastily shown, and then withdrawn,
and the gordit appeared in its stead; which being done, the experienced
dame winked, and regarded me deeply. This meant, "Surrender your legal
right in Our Lady's heart, without which I shall have no luck, and I
will give you this beautiful fish, hard-roed, and done to a nicety." Ah
no, sweet Cora, a good red herring is not to be despised; but who could
eat in a reeking hole like this? Once I went, for Judy's sake, being
rash and light of step, into the back premises of a highly respectable
butcher. Woe is me, what I saw and smelt there was Muscat grapes
compared to this.
When Cora had departed, after handing me in a pillow and a blanket of
the true work-house texture, and crossing herself with a strange
expression, meaning, as I interpreted, "Now keep alive if possible till
breakfast time, young woman," I sat me down upon the floor at one end of
the room, and began my labours. First. I put on a pair of tan-leather
gloves; for small as my vanity is, I do not like my hands to look
altogether like a hodman's. Then I removed a strip of the felt with
which the wall was covered. It was nearly dark, but I could easily feel
the joints between the bricks. The mortar was not very good, but my
work was rendered doubly difficult by the bricks being all set
cross-wise to the line of the wall; this, I suppose, is what he meant
when he described them as "headers." By reason of this arrangement, I
had to dig and dig for hours, before I could loosen a single brick; and
working all in the dark as I was, I feared every moment to break the
stick-blade of my knife. The fingers of my gloves were very soon worn
away, and even the palm where the heel of the knife was chafing; nor was
it long before my skin was full of weals, and raspy, like the knobs I
have seen inside the legs of a horse. At last, to my wonderful delight,
one brick began to tremble. In another half-hour, I eased it out most
carefully, kissed my trusty blade, now worn almost to a skewer, and with
stiff and aching muscles, and the trophy brick upon my lap, fell off
into as sound a sleep as ever I was blest with.