They went to a hostelry where the horses had a rest and a feed while they refreshed themselves before going to the horse market, for Fermor wished to look at horses and John Collings perhaps to buy.
They sat in the parlour with the sawdust on the floor, and a girl in a pretty mob-cap came to bring them tankards of Cornish ale. Hot pasties were served with the ale—fresh from the oven, savoury with onions.
"There seems to be merrymaking in the town to-day," said Fermor to the girl in the mob-cap, for she was a pretty girl, and Fermor would always have a word and a smile for a pretty girl, no matter how much he was taken with another.
"Well, sir," she said, "there's to be a flogging in the streets to-day. You'm here in time to see it. 'Tis old Tom Matthews. Caught red-handed, he were, stealing one of Farmer Tregertha's fowls. The whole town's turning out to see it done."
"What revelry!" cried Fermor. "Bring us some more of those pasties, please. They're good."
The girl bobbed a curtsy and went away.
"What does she mean?" asked Melisande.
John Collings said: "Oh, these people get excited about nothing. Just another felon, that's all."
"And he is to be flogged in the street?" asked Melisande.
"He stole a fowl and was caught," said Caroline.
"But ... to be flogged in the street . . . where all can see! It is a great indignity ... as well as a pain to the body."
"Well, let us hope it will teach him not to steal again," said Fermor.
"But in the streets . . . for people to see." Melisande shuddered. "To be beaten in private . . . that is bad. But in the streets ..."
"It is a warning to other people, Mademoiselle," said Caroline. "There are some people who have to be shown that if they steal they will have to take the consequences."
Melisande was silent, and when the maid brought fresh pasties she found that she had lost her appetite.
When they came out into the streets they were just in time to see
the dismal procession. The victim, stripped to the waist, was tied to the back of a cart which was slowly drawn through the streets. Behind him walked two men with whips; these men took it in turn to apply a stroke to the bleeding back of their victim.
Caroline, Fermor and John looked on with indifference; only Melisande turned shuddering away. Perhaps, she thought, he was hungry; perhaps his family was hungry. How can we know that he deserves such punishment?
She was as unhappy as she had been gay a short time before when riding along the misty road.
Fermor was beside her. He said: "What is it?"
She shook her head, but he came nearer, demanding an answer. She tried to explain, although she did not think he would see her point. "The hedges and the flowers and the mist . . . they are so beautiful. And this ... it is so ugly."
"Felons must be punished. If they were not they would not hesitate to steal the coats off our backs."
They rode away to the stables and, while Fermor and John were selecting a horse, Caroline said to Melisande: "You are too easily deceived, Mademoiselle St. Martin. You are too sorry for felons and . . . for millers' daughters. Stupid people and criminals have to suffer for their mistakes."
"I know it," said Melisande. "But that does not stop my being sorry."
"It is unwise to steal ... no matter what. People have to be reminded of that."
It was unfortunate that on their way back through the town they should see mad Anna Quale, for it seemed to Melisande that the flogging of Tom Matthews was a minor tragedy compared with that of Anna Quale.
Anna had many visitors that day. Some had come in to the market and some to see Tom Matthews flogged; and they could not leave without a glimpse of Anna.
Outside the tiny cottage where she lived, a crowd had gathered. Anna's fame had travelled far, and there would not always be an opportunity of seeing her. She was mad; and her insanity was of a type which appealed to the ignorant crowd. Anna's was not a quiet introspective madness; it was not melancholy; Anna's mad fits were fits of rage in which she behaved like a wild animal, spitting and clawing at any who came near her, throwing herself against walls, trying to tear off her clothes, screaming abuse. Her fits occurred at ever-shortening intervals now, and it was considered a great treat to be an onlooker. She would throw herself to the ground, lash out with her arms and legs, bite her tongue; and her face would grow purple as she would utter shrieks and strange sounds. It was said
that devils were in her; but the devils were not always so entertaining; sometimes they sulked and would not show their presence. Everybody hoped for a demonstration of the devils when they went to see Anna, and did their best to provoke them to action; but very soon Anna was to be taken away to Bodmin where she would be put in a cage and exhibited to passers-by in that town.
It was a terrible shame, said the people of Liskeard, that Bodmin should have all the fun. There were plenty of lunatics in Bodmin; you could see their cages any day you liked. It was unfair to take Liskeard's entertainers and give them to the Bodmin folk. However, Liskeard and its visitors were determined to get as much fun out of Anna as and while they could; and for the time being she was chained up in the cottage which had recently housed her parents and their large family.
The shrieks of laughter and shouts could be heard streets away.
"What's the excitement?" Fermor asked a man in a smock and leather gaiters.
"Don't 'ee know then, sir?" cried the man.
"That is precisely why I am asking."
" 'Tis old Anna Quale, sir. A regular caution, she be. And there be so many here on account of the flogging, sir. Did you see the flogging, sir?"
"We did. But what about Anna Quale?"
"They'm taking her away to Bodmin soon. 'Tis a crying shame."
Two more men had come up—old men, their faces eager and alight. Talking to strangers was the greatest joy they knew, for passing on knowledge which was theirs and of which the stranger was ignorant was a tremendous stimulation to self-esteem. They touched their forelocks, recognizing John Collings and Miss Caroline Trevenning, although the other lady and gentleman were unknown to them.
"Well, sir, 'tis like this here . . ." began one.
"No, Harry, you let me tell it. You do take too long. . . ."
"Now, look here, Tom Trewinny, you keep out of this."
"How'd it be if you shared the prize?" asked Fermor. "A sentence each, eh?"
They looked at him oddly. Gentry, for sure. But a foreigner with a fancy way of talking. Trying to be smart too; and they did not like foreigners.
John Collings said: "What is this all about, my good man? We're in a hurry."
"Well, sir, 'tis Anna Quale. She'm in the cottage there, and they be going to take her to Bodmin soon. We've always looked on Anna as ourn. Regular caution she's always been. You could see her lying in the market square, kicking and screaming and lashing out like . . .
with all the devils calling out of her mouth. Then all of a sudden she'd go quiet . . . just like all the devils had come out of her. And they had too, sir, through the mouth. There's some in this town as has seen 'em. Then she'd get quiet and walk away."
"So they're taking her away and the people don't like it?"
"That's how 'tis, sir. They'm taking their last look, you might say. You see, sir, she's chained up now . . . and has been this last day or so since the rest of them Quales was drove out of the town. They'm a bad lot, them Quales. Two of the girls in trouble and the mother and father no better than they should be . . . begging the ladies' pardon. We got a party together . . . with whistles and such like . . . and we gave they a riding out of the town. That left Anna, sir; and now she be alone they've chained her and they've ordained to send her to Bodmin."