Medusa Page 2

  This was when I had dwelt with my grandparents five or six years; and thus it befell:

  On an occasion, when, being sick, he sent me to that dreadful apothecary to fetch physic, instead of going I filled the bottle at the village pump, taking care not to be descried, absconding myself for such a time as the errand would have taken; for the appearance of the physic being just like water, the discrepancy was not like to be remarked.

  So I bought it to him (I mean the water in the bottle), and not suspecting anything, he took a dose. He declared next morning that it had done him a deal of good; and, after taking another dose, he set the bottle back in the cupboard.

  About six weeks after, complaining of the headache, he hobbled to the cupboard with his stick, and took the bottle from the shelf. But I grew much afraid, apprehending that the water by this time must be poisonous. I tried to have uttered a warning; but fear constrained me, and I stood staring like an antic while he raised his cup.

  Yet he did not drink; but, having sniffed at it once and twice with a wry face, he set it down on the table.

  “Pooh!” said he, blowing. “What’s this? The stuff stinks!” and he turned and looked on me.

  He stood looking a long time (or so it seems to me), bowed forward on his stick with his head thrust out, peering at me.

  “Whence came this devil’s stuff?” said he, at last, in a whispering, hoarse voice. “Did you get if of the apothecary? Tell me!”

  “No,” said I , with a small, shaking voice, “I was afraid. I filled it at the village pump.”

  He uttered a dreadful, snarling cry. “Ha!”, said he, starting forward. His face, that was meagre and sharp, appeared dull like lead; but there was a look in his pale blue eyes that (by how much I can express) struck as baleful lightning to my soul. I had fled from him; but I could not, being perfectly holden with terror. But, as he came at me, on a sudden he staggered and cast his arms abroad, dropping his stick. Pitching heavily head forward, he fell flat down upon his face.

  I ran to the door, calling in a panic to my grandmother; who, entering in, and beholding him in such a posture prone on the floor, she sunk down by his side with a wild crying, looked in his face, took his hand, and fell to wailing over and over that he was dead.

  But while she acted thus, I, scarce knowing what I did, took the cup and the bottle from the table and went from the parlour, making my way to the garden. I poured the stinking water on a flowerbed, and cleansed the cup and bottle in the water tub.

  Many of the townsfolk attended my grandfather’s funeral, especially dissenters, and two or three farmers, also, in their long black coats. I, being dressed in my best clothes, which I used to wear at the meeting-house on Sundays, sat beside my grandmother in the chapel, she weeping often, with her pocket-handkerchief to her eyes, but I mute, being constrained with a sort of numb horror.

  During the reading of the burial service beside the grave, that dreaded apothecary, who stood near, turned his head, on a sudden, and looked on me with his tiger eyes. No doubt, ’twas by chance; but it gave me, nevertheless, a horrible scare as if it had been an accusation

  For, though the occasion of my grandfather’s death, as I learned after, was an apoplexy, yet my deceitful and disobedient act did bring it to pass, the secret knowledge of which worked on my mind, so that I suffered grievously as only a phantastically scrupulous child can; and, of nights, in the intervals of my broken slumber, my grandfather came to me, a horrible and venomous ghost, breathing out damnatory texts, and declaring that I should burn in hell fire for ever. One morning following such nightly terrors, as I remember, I thrust my hand into the fire in an agony of anticipation.

  I came near to confessing to my grandmother once or twice, yet never did. But she, beholding my misery and persuaded by friends, resolved to send me to an academy for the sons of gentlemen in Bristol; where (as my readers that be not deterred by beginning, shall learn) I became the hand and instrument off another death.

  CHAPTER III -

  He goes to school: The Lamentable Sequel

  On a summer’s morning, not many weeks after, I parted from my grandmother, standing dolorous beside the garden path, in the bright sunlight; and my red of going to the academy nigh made me blurt out the secret of my misery that had persuaded her to send me. But my mind was hidden in a sort of apathy.

  I passed by under the window-lattice whence so often I had seen my grandfather peering forth at me, expecting almost to see him then (although it would scarce have startled me from my dejection), and descended into the road, being followed by my grandmother’s page, that bore my portmanteau.

  When we were come to the High Street, I saw some of the shopkeepers standing at their doors, and the sight of their familiar persons did but increase my melancholy; so that, on one of them speaking to me, I had much ado to contain my tears. I began to walk faster, and, on my grandmothers boy loitering, I took my portmanteau from him. I always misliked this boy, with his shambling gait and crafty, pale, prying face; yet now, on this miserable morning, I conceived a kindness for him.

  We had not yet arrived the White Lion, where we were to take a postchaise to Bristol, but he began to loiter again; and, on hearing a noise of laughter behind me, I turned, catching him as he stood in the midst of some gazing boys, rubbing his fists in his eyes, miming a cry-baby. He was older and bigger than I was; yet, being extremely strong of my arms, though spare-made, I could easily have chastised him. But I was too much dispirited. When we were come to the inn, however, I would have set him back to be rid of him. But he protested that my grandmother had charged him to bear my company to the academy; and supposing she did design this for my good (as she thought it), that I might, in a manner of speaking, cut a figure in the academy, I did let him go with me, and we mounted into the postchaise.

  In this period I should not have minded, but rather have welcomed, an highwayman; but nothing remarkable fell out on the road. We arrived at Bristol about five of the clock; whereupon,though my sedulous page would have had us break our journey, and our fast, at the inn, I straightaway set off for the academy, which was known to me, having daunted me when my grandmother showed it to me, and told me what it was, on an occasion when she took me with her on a journey to Bristol.

  But that vexatious page was loitering again; and, wanting heart to be troubled with him, I took my portmanteau and dismissed him. Soon after, I saw him in a chat with some school-boys, They stared at me as I passed on the other side of. Shortly afterwards I saw him chatting with some schoolboys. They stared at me as I passed on the other side of the way, and one of them (being a big, strong boy, having a round, rosy, smiling countenance) made some derisive comment upon me; whereupon the others laughed; which struck me to the quick. I went on, feeling the more wretched, knowing they were from the academy.

  Being come before the walls, I stood awhile, looking upon the massy building, that rose gaunt and get above the plantation, dark with ragged firs. Thereupon, with a sinking heart, I pushed upon one of the gates and entered in.

  It was the hour of sunset; and the topmost windows flashed in reflection. The rest were black with a swimming blackness that appeared to me in a phantasy to be thronged with eyes observing me; a small, contemptible, abject, forlorn creature, feebly carrying my burden. While I advanced up the avenue, I became sensible that my coat pocket bulged with a parcel of sweet cakes that my grandmother had set there, and the recollection of her in that place was a passionate misery to me; I had with desperate great gulps to swallow, hard put to it to contain my tears, that continually stood in my eyes.

  At last, I stood at the gate of that terrible mansion, pulled at the bell-chain and stood waiting. I waited long; but my timorous summons was unanswered; and, while I doubted if i should ring again, the gates were thrown open with a loud sound, and I saw those three school-boys I had met near the inn. They advanced briskly, talking and laughing; so that I wondered how in such a place they had the heart. But I feared them with a sort of shadowy dread; and, wh
en upon their approaching nearer, the big boy called to me, asking insolently who I was, I answered with a shaking voice.

  “I am come," I said, “to be a scholar here”.

  They all laughed broad at this; and the big boy made sport of me.

  “O ho!" cried he, “he is come to be a scholar here! A scholar, ho! ho! and we took him for a cry-baby!”

  Hereupon he made a noise like weeping and there rest shouted with jeering laughter; I knew that my page had betrayed me. My heart was ready to burst with the passion of misery that surged within me and overflowed with scalding tears; but, moving blind, my hand came against the bell-handle; and, laying hold on it, I pulled like mad; upon which those school-boys immediately absconded themselves behind a laurel bush that stood beside the portal (for their proper entry was by the side-door). In the next moment, the door was opened by a tall footman, that stared down at me while I seemed to dwindle down to nothing in his sight.

  "Well," cried said, and stopped. "Well, this beats cock-fighting, it do. Why, I took you for a markis, at least. What mean you by a-pulling of the bell fit to peal the house down?”

  I answered, with a faint small voice, that I did it unwittingly, and was sorry for it; sand he let me in, cursing and swearing to himself in a husky low voice, and, pushing me through the hall, thrust me into a handsome, larger chamber.

  "The master will come ," said he, with a surly tone, and left me.

  I stood, looking before me in the dim light yet scarce with observation, at a sculptured bust, set upon a pedestal, that represented a broad, good-humoured physiognomy, having curled hair and a beard, and a thick,upturned, nose. But the sight of it startled my thoughts , at last, with the notion that it did represent Doctor Thompson himself (being the pedagogue's name); and whilst I attentively stared on it, taking a little comfort, the door was opened.

  There entered an ancient, tall, ungainly man that stooped very much, who stepped to me with extraordinary jerky movements like a crab’s. He had curled hair and a beard like the bust. But I knew not what to make of it, whether it could be the same; for his countenance was rather meagre, lugubrious, and severe rather than jocular, and his nose, though fleshy, not a jot like the bust.

  This dismal grim visage quite dashed the comfort had gotten form the object; and whilst I stood staring on the person, he cried in a harsh, grating voice, ”Well, sir? Well, sir? Well, sir? You have a tongue in your head, haven’t you? You should have prepared yourself for me. You should have had your words ready. How, pray, have you employed your mind since your entry here?”

  "Your portrait," said I replied with halting words, lifting my hand up towards the bust.

  But a great flush came upon his face; and thereupon I discerned on a sudden, that his curled hair was nothing more than a wig.

  "My portrait!" Said he, grinning at me. He began to pace his feet and took a pinch from a large silver snuff box, with a motion as if to shove his nose aside, scattering much on his clothes, that were very slovenly.

  "Hm! my portrait,!” said he. "You have good eyes in your head, boy. Is it like me, think you?”

  “It’s not much like you," said I; , but his face twisted in so wry a look as made me repent that I ever did.

  “Not?” cried he, with a lowering brow. “Not like me? But you did take it for me, don’t you?”"

  "Yes," said I. “I am very sorry. Perhaps it is like you. “

  “To be sure it is!” he cried vehemently. “You’re no better than a fool, boy. How should you have taken it for me, else? Answer me that?”

  But I could not; and while I stood looking confused upon the floor, he, on a sudden, shoved a chair under the pedestal and sate down in it.

  “Tut! tut! You shall see the likeness soon. Look upon this face and upon that, said, he, tapping on his curled wig and pointing upwards.

  “So! You perceive it, don’t you?”

  I do begin to perceive it,” said I.

  “To be sure you perceive it,” said he. “It’s patent to all. You’re a great booby, and I’ve wasted a vast deal of time with you.”

  “I know who you are,” he continued pompously, taking snuff and tweaking his nose up. “I have received letters from your grandmother. You are come to be instructed here; and its no small privilege, let me tell you, and no small honour neither, to be instructed in the academy of one, that, not only in physiognomy,” said he, writhing his face and pointing to the bust, “but also in understanding, look you, bears so close a character to the philosopher, Socrates!”

  He pronounced the name with slow and solemn emphasis, rolling his eyes and writhing his face after a doleful manner very hideous. Thereafter he pulled the bell-rope; and, when the footman that had opened to me entered, he told him, with an horrible contortion, to take me to the schoolroom.

  “Remove him immediately out of my sight!" said he sharply, stamping with his foot. “He is nothing but a fool.”

  "But tell me," said he, calling the man back, “who was that illustrious great sage that instructed, not corrupted (which was a most notorious error), the Athenian youth?”

  "The philosopher, Socrates," said the footman, standing stiff beside the door, bawling out out the words as he would announce an arrival at some grand assembly.

  “Notable also,” answered the pedagogue, nodding his head, “was the poet, John Milton, who not only taught boys, but also writ his Accedence Commenced Grammar; and, reverting to the ancients,why need I mention the name of Cato, the Elder? Or, among the moderns, the erudite Erasmus?”

  With these observations, he dismissed us.

  I followed the tall footman through the hall, down some steps,and along an ill-lit passage, that did smell very musty; wherein a shrill sound of voices came muffled. Having opened a door at the end, he thrust me in, the voices coming in a great sound, and then ceasing suddenly.

  I felt at first as thought I had entered some savage den; but became sensible it was a long, low room, lighted with two great lanterns that hung from the beam, and furnished with many desks and benches, in the spaces between which there stood a company of school-boys; among whom I spied the big boy, having a babe-like countenance, that made such sport of me. He was the first to speak.

  “Why,” said he, jeering at me, “here comes the scholar!”.

  He was abridged by a burst of laughter that stunned my senses; and immediately they all came crowding around me, jeering, grimacing, and grinning at me. I stood in a sort of stupor; but my readers could never think what was in my thoughts; yet scarce in my thoughts neither, for ’twas but a peal of sounding words. ’Twas a tag from the Psalms, that I often read to my grandfather: And many dogs are come about me. So it run in my head; and, after a strange manner, it solaced me.

  They continued to persecute me, asking many questions too ridiculous to be set down. But when, on my returning them no answer, they began to hale me this way and that, to tweak my nose, pull my hair, and the like, my spirit awoke in a passion of grief and rage, and I struck blindly out at them with all my strength; nay, with more than my usual strength (I have said I was exceedingly strong); for a frenzy came over me.

  I was as one possessed. Instead of the pain, while they persecuted me, I was sensible of an exultation; and I flung out upon them, shouting out the words of the psalm. They yielded in panic and confusion but the big boy held still and his round, smiling, babe-like face appeared as in a crimson mist before my eyes. I struck at it in an extremity. My clenched fist beat hard and numb; the crimson mist turned to pitchy darkness, and I sunk upon the floor in a swound.

  When I came to my senses, I lay in darkness. But my mind was heavy and numb; so that I could not think what was befallen me and was content to rest still. I slowly perceived I lay upon a bed, with my clothes on, and that my face was bruised and cut. In the same moment I heard a sound of boys conversing with low tones.

  "Yes," said one. "He was dead for sure. I spied through the keyhole and saw him. He lay on the couch, and a sheet over him. It set me all a tremor
, and - "

  He stopped; for the other abridged him.

  "Nay," said he, "Tell me to-morrow. But won’t he be hanged? I mean the crazy fool that killed him."

  "Yes, he will be hanged for sure. I heard the Doctor bid old Pompey bear a letter to the justice. "