“Are you already dead? Speak, that we may not waste our powder and shot.”
Thus rudely awakened, he looked up and saw a loaded musket at his breast, and several soldiers around him, who had seized his arms and his knapsack. He prayed for mercy, and exclaimed in the utmost anguish—
“If you are determined to kill me, at least first buy the little flask in my right jacket pocket.”
“You foolish fellow,” said one of the soldiers, “I will not buy, but take it;” and with this he had already taken the gallows man and placed it in his bosom.
“In God’s name,” cried Richard, “you must buy the beast if you will have it: otherwise it will not stay with you.”
The soldier laughed; and not caring to trouble himself further with one he considered half mad, went on with the horse and knapsack. Richard put his hand in his pocket, and finding the ‘gallows man,’ called after him and showed him the flask.
“I told you so,” said Richard, sadly; “and if you will have it, there is no other way than to pay a few pennies for it.”
“Yes, juggler, think not in this way to fool me out of my well-earned booty;” and taking it from him he held it carefully in his hand. Suddenly he stood still and called out, “The devil! where has it gone to.”
Whilst he sought it in the grass, Richard called to him, “Come here—it is in my pocket.”
The soldier was now very anxious to have it. He thought three pennies too much.
“Now miser,” said Richard, impatiently, “take it for one.”
They closed the bargain. The money was paid, and the little devil was transferred.
While the soldier remained looking at and diverting himself with it, Richard thought of his future destiny; he stood there with a light heart, but also with a light purse; he could not return to the army where his horses, servants, and also much money remained; partly because he was ashamed of his cowardly flight, and partly that by military law he might be shot as a deserter—he thought he would serve the other party, where no one knew him, and he might again venture his life for a good booty. He thought now despite his unfortunate commencement, that clear of the ‘gallows man,’ he should do well, and he went with his new comrades back to their camp. The captain made no difficulty in enlisting a tall, strong, well built young man, and he lived now sometime as a foot soldier—yet he was often troubled in his mind. Since the last encounter the two armies lay opposite each other inactive, as there was a truce between the states. It is true, this freed him from danger, but gave him no chance to gather spoils. While they remained quietly in the camp, they had but little pay and worse food. Whilst they were at war most of the soldiers had gained something; and Richard, formerly so wealthy a merchant, and who had lived like a king, must now be as a beggar amongst his equals. Such a life was naturally insupportable to him; and one day when he received his monthly pay—too little to live contentedly on, too much not to be a temptation—he resolved to go to the market-place and see if fortune would not favor him at play. The game took its usual varied aspect. Sometimes he lost—sometimes won; and as it lasted until deep in the night, he became somewhat drunk: at last the game went wholly against him; his pay was all lost, and no one would credit him for a single farthing. Then he searched his pockets in vain; he searched over his cartridge-box, but there was nothing in it but cartridges; these he now drew out and offered as a stake. Just as the game began, he perceived he who held the stakes was the same soldier to whom he had formerly sold the ‘gallows man,’ and who consequently must win, he cried, “Stop!” but the game was already finished, and his opponent had won. Cursing he left the company and went back in the dark night to his tent. A comrade who had also lost his money, and was as poor as himself, took him by the arm. On the way he asked him if he still had any cartridges in his tent.
“No,” cried Richard angrily. “Had I still any I would go on with the game.”
“Yes,” said his companion, “you ought to do so, for if the commissary should call the roll and find a paid soldier without any, he would have him shot.”
“Thunder! that is bad,” cried Richard. “I have neither cartridges nor money.”
“Ah!” said his companion, “the commissary will not come before next month.”
“That is well,”’ said Richard; “before then I shall again have money, and will buy cartridges to his heart’s content.”
With this they said good night, and Richard began to sleep off his intoxication. He had not slept long before he heard the corporal crying before his tent—“No. 1, warning to the Review; at break of day will the Lord Commissary be in the camp.” Thus was Richard’s sleep suddenly destroyed. The cartridges run through his half-drunken thoughts: fearfully he asked of all around him, if no one would either lend or sell him some on credit; but they scolded him for a drunken dreamer, and turned again on their straw. In the utmost distress he sought amongst all his clothes for money, but could find only five farthings. With these he wandered forth with uncertain steps in the dark from tent to tent, to buy cartridges;—some laughed; others scolded, but no one gave any heed to his wishes. At last he came to a tent, in which he heard the voice of the soldier to whom he had yesterday lost his cartridges.
“Comrade,” said Richard sadly, “you or no one must help me. Yesterday you won all from me, and in the wood you helped to plunder me; if tomorrow the commissary finds me without cartridges he will have me shot. You are the cause of all my misery; give, lend, or sell me some.”
“Giving and lending I have forsworn,” said the soldier; “but sooner than you shall be shot, I will sell you some. How much money have you left?”
“Only five farthings,” answered Richard mournfully.
“Now,” said the soldier, “that you may see I am no churlish comrade, you shall have five cartridges; be content and let me sleep.”
Richard gave the money, and despite his sorrow slept soundly until morning. The review was held, and Richard got through with his five cartridges. At midday the commissary went away; the soldiers returned to their tents. The sun shone insupportably through the linen cloth. Richard’s comrades went to the marketplace, and he remained sick and weary from last night’s drunkenness and today’s fatigue, with an empty pocket and a hard bit of soldier’s bread.
“Ah!” sighed he, “had I but one of those ducats I formerly squandered away in such thoughtless profusion.”
Scarcely had he formed the wish, before there lay in his left hand a bright new ducat. A thought of the ‘gallows man’ shot through his brain and embittered all the joy he would otherwise have received from the money. Then came his comrade, from whom he had the night before bought the cartridges, uneasily into his tent.
“Friend,” said he, “I have lost the flask with the little black devil in it, which I bought from you in the wood. You know it well; I thought I might have given it to you for a cartridge. I kept it wrapped in paper and had laid it amongst my cartridges.”
Richard sought anxiously amongst his cartridges. The first paper he unrolled showed the little black creature in his flask.
“Now that is well,” said the soldier, “as ugly as it looks. I was sorry to lose it, for it always brought me good luck when I played. There, comrade, take thy farthing again and give me the creature.”
Richard complied with his desire, and the soldier went contentedly back to the marketplace.
Poor Richard was miserable; he had again seen the ‘gallows man’—again held him in his hand, and borne him about his person; he thought he groaned at him from every corner of the tent, and that he would unexpectedly strangle him in his sleep. The so much wished for ducat was pain to him; he would not even procure the necessary refreshment, and he was driven by fright to leave the camp, lest the ‘gallows man’ should again nestle with him.
The closing evening found him in the deepest woods where, exhausted with fear and fatigue, he sunk in a desert spot to the earth.
“Ah me!” he cried, “only a filled flask with water,” and
a filled flask of water stood near him. Before he tasted it he sought whence it came. Then rose painfully to his mind the gallows man’; he searched his pockets, and finding the flask, sunk fainting back. He was again visited by the same horrible dream; again the ‘gallows man’ drew himself longer and longer from the flask, and again lay grinning on his breast. He contended with him that he no longer belonged to him; but the ‘gallows man’ answered, with a scornful laugh,
“Did you not buy me for a farthing? and to make the bargain complete, must you not sell me for a little less?”
Then Richard, mad with fright, thinking he again saw the spectre, raised himself up, drew the flask from his pocket and dashed it against the nearest rock; but again it was in his pocket. His cries of woe rung through the dark wood.
“Once it was my delight—my pleasure that you would always return to me even from the deep waves—now it is my misery—ah! my eternal misery.”
In his wretchedness he rushed through the deep woods, heeding neither trees nor rocks, and at every step he heard the rattling of the little flask in his pocket. As the day dawned, he reached a pleasant, cultivated field; the fresh air and light were balm to his heart; he began to hope it was but a dream, and that the glass might be but a common glass. He drew it out and held it to the rising sun. Ah, heaven! between him and the friendly light, there danced the little black devil—still the same small, misshapen arms, like a pair of tongs stretched out towards him. With a loud cry he let it fall, but it again rattled in his pocket. Before him lay his one hope—to sell him for less than a farthing. No one would buy him—so vanished every hope of selling the frightful creature, that now began to threaten his master who would no longer make any use of him, and whom sorrow had deprived of all strength both of body and mind, and who begged up and down through Italy. Every one saw his distress, and yet that he persisted in asking his half a farthing for his flask. They thought him mad, and he was known throughout the country as the mad half farthing. It is said the vulture often strikes the roe on the neck, and then courses the poor beast to death, which, pursued by its hated murderer, drags itself painfully over the rocks and valleys-so went the poor Richard with the hateful wretch in his pocket, and his sufferings were indeed pitiable.
I will relate no more of his long and painful flight, but tell what after many months befel him. After a weary day’s wandering in the mountains, he seated himself sadly by a little brook, which trickled through the overhanging bushes, as if it pitied his sufferings and came to refresh him. The heavy tramp of a war-horse sounded on the stony ground, and, riding on a large and wild horse, there came to the place where Richard sat a very ugly man, dressed in magnificent blood-red clothes.
“Why so troubled, friend?” he asked of the unhappy young man; “I should take you for a merchant, have you bought any thing too dear?”
“No! much too cheap,” said Richard in a trembling voice.
“I have heard this before,” said the horseman, with a terrible laugh, “you have a little thing to sell called a ‘gallows man,’ I am much mistaken, or I see the mad half farthing.”
Scarcely could the wretched young man form his pale and trembling lips to answer. He expected every minute to see the rider’s mantle change into bloody wings, his horse become one of those obscene night birds, which spring from the fires of Hell, and that he would fly away with him to his home of eternal torment.
The horseman spake more gently. “I see for whom you take me, but be comforted, I am not he; yet more, I may free you from your gallows man,’ I have sought you for four days for this purpose. Truly you have given a cursed small price for it; and I myself know of no smaller coin than a farthing. But listen and follow my counsel; on the other side of the mountain there lives a prince, a vain and silly boy. In the morning he goes a hunting, and as soon as I can detach him from his followers, I will set a frightful beast upon him. Remain you here until midnight, and when the moon reaches yonder rocky point, go, a few steps will lead you to a dark valley on the left; delay not, hurry not, and you will come just at the time the beast has the prince under his claws. Be not frightened, it must submit to you, and before you it will fly and throw itself over the rocky cliffs on the sea shore. Then demand of the grateful prince to have you a few half farthings struck. Two of these you shall change with me for one, and then with one of these your ‘gallows man’ will become mine.” So spake the frightful man and rode slowly away towards the wood.
“Where shall I find you, when I have the half farthings?” called Richard after him.
“At the black spring,” called back the rider, “every child’s nurse knows where that is.” And with slow but lazy steps, the awful horse bore his awful rider away. Like one who has gamed away his all and has nothing more to lose, Richard determined to follow the counsel of the hateful man.
The night came, the moon rose and shone brightly on the rocky point. The pale wanderer rose and went into the dark valley. Joyless and sad was all around him, here and there a glorious moonbeam shone over the rocks which on all sides surrounded him, and fell on some narrow spot, giving it a spectre-like appearance, otherwise he saw nothing mysterious. Determined to follow exactly the horseman’s directions, as the only hope left to free himself from guilt and misery, he went neither too slow nor too fast. After many hours, a rosy light shone on his path and the fresh breath of morning breathed on his face. As he left the valley, and was enjoying the fresh shade and the glorious light of the blue waves of the sea which was not far from him, he heard a fearful shriek; he looked around, and saw in the claws of a wild beast a young man in a rich hunting suit. His first impulse was to help him; but when he saw the beast more fully, a monstrous ape with horns like stag’s horns, he lost all courage and stood irresolute, doubting whether he should aid the unhappy man or creep back into the dark valley. Then he remembered what the horseman told him, and urged by fear of eternal ruin, he struck the monstrous ape with his motley stick, just as it raised the prince in its fore claws, in order to dash him up and catch him on his horns. As Richard drew near, he let his prey fall, and ran hissing and howling away. Richard, growing bold, pursued hint until he dashed himself over the rocks on the sea shore, where, after grinning terribly at him, he vanished beneath the waves.
Now the young man went back in triumph to the huntsman, who announced himself as prince of this country and prayed his benefactor to tell him how he might reward him.
“Truly,” said Richard full of hope, “are you serious, and will you give me your princely word to grant my request?”
The prince without hesitation joyfully promised.
“Well, then,” cried Richard with earnest supplication,’ have me a few half farthings, good money, coined; if no more, give me at least two.”
Whilst the prince was regarding him with astonishment, some of his followers came up, to whom he related his adventure. One of them who had seen Richard before, knew him immediately as the “mad half farthing.”
Then the prince laughed, and Richard in anguish sunk on his knees, vowing he should be ruined without the half farthings.
“Stand up, young man,” said the prince, laughing, “you have my princely word that you shall have as many half farthings as you want—thirds of a farthing would not need to be coined, as my neighbours declare my farthings are so light it takes three to make a good one.”
“If that was but certain,” said Richard, doubtingly.
“Ah!” said the prince, “you would be the first who has thought them too good; and if they do not content you, I give my princely word to have even worse coined, if that be possible.” He called a servant, who gave Richard a whole bag of farthings. With these, he passed into a neighbouring State and was a happy man, when at the first Inn he stopped, they unwillingly gave him a good farthing for three of his.
Now he asked for the black spring, at which some children who were at play in the parlor ran screaming away. The host informed him, not without a shudder, that it was a place from which many bad spirits
came and infested the country, and which few men had looked on.
But he knew well the entrance to it was not far from there, and was shaded by two funeral cypresses, that he could not well miss the way, but from entering it, God preserve him, and all good Christians.
Richard was again in great distress, but he must venture, for it was his only hope. Already from afar he saw the black cavern, and the very cypresses which hung over the abyss seemed withered with terror. A wonderful stone pointed to the entrance. To look down it, there seemed frightful long bearded beasts, and monstrous apes, like that he saw on the sea shore, and if he saw rightly, it was filled with sharp and jagged rocks, to break the bones of those who ventured in. Trembling, the poor fellow stepped amongst these spectres. In his pocket the ‘gallows man’ became so heavy it almost drew him back; this but increased his courage, as he thought, “what you do not like, I ought to like.” As he penetrated deeper in the cavern, the darkness hid the frightful spectres from his eyes. He directed all his attention to keeping the straight and narrow path, lest he should fall into some abyss. He found a smooth and even way, and, despite the hissing and scratching he heard, he went boldly on. At length he came out. A desert mountain chain surrounded him on all sides. Near him he saw the monstrous black horse of his merchant, who stood, though unbound, motionless, with head erect. like a brazen statue. Opposite, a stream gushed from the rock, in which the rider washed his hands and head. The water was like ink and so coloured all it touched, that when the huge man turned his ugly face to Richard, it was black, contrasting strangely with his blood-red clothes.
“Be not alarmed, young man, this is one of the ceremonies I must perform to please the devil; every Friday I must here so wash, in scorn and mockery of him whom you call your dear Saviour, and when I need new clothes, I mix the water with drops of my own blood, from whence comes this magnificent red colour, and there are yet other conditions heavier than these.
The Second Macabre Megapack Page 41