They do say'— he wiped his nose again— 'they do say that watching pigs cures melancholy. It never cured mine, though ..."
I had stopped listening. There had come on a light in my head, that was brighter than all the rest. I took his hand again. 'Black- faced pigs?' I said, screwing up my eyes. He nodded.
His aunty was Mrs Cream.
I suppose it's like that in the country. I had never thought to ask him his last name. He had slept in the very same room as me, on the same straw mattress, that was filled with bugs. When his aunty had begun to talk of the gentleman and lady that had come and been secretly married, he had guessed at once who they were but, hardly believing his own luck, had said nothing. He found out they'd gone off together in a coach; and from his cousin— Mrs Cream's eldest son, who had talked with the coachman— he had got the name of Dr Christie's house, and where it was.
'I supposed it a great hotel,' he said again— again looking fearfully about him, at the wire on the lamps, the bare grey walls, the bars on the windows. He had run off from M r s C r e a m ' s t h r e e n i g h t s b e f o r e , a n d h a d s l e p t i n d i t c h e s a n d h e d g e s s i n c e then.— 'Too late,' he said, 'to turn back, when I got here. I asked at the gate for Mr Rivers. They looked in a book, and said I must mean his wife. Then I remembered what a kind lady Miss Maud always was; and that if anyone should talk Mr Rivers round to taking me on, she should. And now— !'
His lip began again to tremble. Really, Mr Way was right: he was far too big a boy to be so tearful, and at any other time, in any other, ordinary place, I should have hit him 289
myself. But for now, I looked at his tears, and to my bruised and desperate eyes they were like so many pick- locks and keys.
'Charles,' I said, leaning closer to him and nerving myself to seem calm. 'You can't go back to Briar.'
'I can't, miss,' he said. 'Oh, I can't! Mr Way would skin me alive!'
'And I dare say your aunty don't want you.' He shook his head. 'She would call me a fool, for running off.' 'It's Mr Rivers you're after.' He bit his lip, and nodded, still crying.
'Then listen to me,' I said— barely speaking at all, barely whispering now, only breathing the words, for fear Nurse Spiller would catch them. 'Listen to me. I can take you to him. I know where he is. I know the very house! I can take you to him. But first, you must help me out of here.'
If it wasn't quite true that I knew where Gentleman was, then it wasn't quite a lie, either; for I was pretty certain that, once I reached London and got help from Mrs Sucksby, I should find him. But I would have lied anyway, just then. I dare say you would have, too. Charles stared at me, and wiped his face with the heel of his hand.
'Help you out of here, how?' he said. 'Why mayn't you walk out, miss, just whenever you please?'
I swallowed. 'They think I'm mad, Charles. There's an order been signed— well, never mind by who— that keeps me here. It's the law See that nurse? See her arm? They've got twenty nurses with arms like that; and they know how to use 'em. Now, look at my face. Am I mad?'
He looked, and blinked. 'Well— '
'Of course I ain't. But here, there are some lunatics so crafty, they pass as sane; and the doctors and nurses can't see the difference between me, and one of them.'
Again he looked about him. Then he looked at me— just as, a moment before, I had looked at him— as if seeing me for the first time. He looked at my hair, my dress, my india-rubber boots. I drew my feet under my skirt.
'I— I'm not sure,' he said.
'Not sure? Not sure of what? Of whether you want to go back to your aunty's and live w i t h t h e p i g s ? O r w h e t h e r y o u w a n t t o g o a n d b e m a n t o M r R i v e r s , i n London— London, mind! Remember them elephants a boy can ride on for a shilling?
Tricky choice, I call that.'
He lowered his gaze. I looked at Nurse Spiller. She had glanced our way, was yawning, and had taken out a watch.
'Pigs?' I said quickly. 'Or elephants? Which is it to be? For God's sake, which?'
He worked his lips. v
'Elephants,' he said, after a terrible silence
'Good boy. Good boy. Thank God. Now, listen. How much money have you got?'
He swallowed. 'Five shillings and sixpence,' he said.
'All right. Here's what you must do. You must go to any town, and find a locksmith's shop; and when you find it you must ask them for— ' I pressed my hand to my eyes. I thought I felt that cloudy water rising again, that flapping curtain. I nearly screamed in fright. Then the curtain drew back— 'for a ward key,' I said, 'a ward key, with a 290
one- inch blank. Say your master wants it. If the man won't sell it, you must steal one.
Now, don't look like that! We shall send the man another when we reach London.
When you've got the blank, keep it safe. Go next to a blacksmith's. Get a file— see my fingers?— same width as this. Show me the width I mean. Good boy, you got it.
Keep the file safe as the blank. Bring them back here, next week— next Wednesday, only Wednesday will do! do you hear me?— and slip them to me. Understand me?
Charles?'
He stared. I had begun to grow wild again. But then he nodded. Then his gaze moved past me and he twitched. Nurse Spiller had left the door-place and was headed our way.
'Time's up,' she said.
We stood. I kept hold of the back of my chair, to keep from sinking. I looked at Charles, as if my eyes could burn into his. I had let his hand fall, but now reached for it again.
'You'll remember, won't you, what I've said?'
He nodded, in a frightened way. He dropped his gaze. He made to draw free his hand and step away. Then a queer thing happened. I felt his fingers move across my palm and found I could not let them go.
'Don't leave me!' I said. The words came from nowhere. 'Don't leave me, please!'
He jumped.
'Now then,' said Nurse Spiller. 'We've no time for this. Come on.'
She began to ungrip my fingers. It took her a moment or two. When his hand was free, Charles drew it quickly back and put his knuckles to his mouth.
'Sad, ain't it?' Nurse Spiller said to him, her arms about my own. My shoulders jumped. 'Don't you mind it, though. It takes them all like this. Better not to come at all, we say. Better not to remind 'em of home. Whips 'em up.' She drew me tighter.
Charles shrank away. 'You be sure now, to tell your people that, when you say what a sad way you found her in— won't you?'
He looked from her to me, and nodded. I said,
'Charles, I'm sorry' My teeth were chattering about the words. 'Don't mind it. It's nothing. Nothing at all.'
But I could see him looking at me now and thinking that I must be mad, after all; and if he thought that, then I was done for, I should be at Dr Christie's house for ever, I should never see Mrs
Sucksby and never have my revenge on Maud.— That thought was sharper than my fear. I willed myself calm, and Nurse Spiller at last let me go. Another nurse came forward, to see Charles to the door: they let me watch him leave, and oh! it was all I could do to keep from running after. As he went, he turned, and stumbled, and met my gaze. Then he looked shocked again. I had tried to smile, and suppose the smile was dreadful.
'You'll remember!' I called, my voice high and strange. 'You'll remember the elephants!'
The nurses shrieked with laughter then. One gave me a push. My strength was all gone, and the push knocked me over. I lay in a heap. 'Elephants!' they said. They 291
stood and laughed at me, until they wept.
That week was a terrible one. I had got my own mind back, the house seemed crueller than ever, and I saw how far I had sunk before in growing used to it. Say I grew used to it again, in seven days? Say I grew stupid? Say Charles came back, and I was too funked to know him? The thought nearly killed me. I did everything I could to keep myself from slipping into a dream again. I pinched my own arms, until they were black with bruises. I bit my own tongue. Each morning I woke with a horrible sense that days had slipped away and I had not noticed. 'What day is today?' I'd ask Miss Wilson and Mrs Price. Of course, they never knew. Miss Wilson always thought, Good Friday. Then I'd ask Nurse Bacon.