by W. W. Jacobs
Witchcraft?" said the old man, thoughtfully, as he scratched his scantywhiskers. No, I ain't heard o' none in these parts for a long time.There used to be a little of it about when I was a boy, and there wassome talk of it arter I'd growed up, but Claybury folk never took muchcount of it. The last bit of it I remember was about forty years ago,and that wasn't so much witchcraft as foolishness.
There was a man in this place then--Joe Barlcomb by name--who was a firmbeliever in it, and 'e used to do all sorts of things to save hisselffrom it. He was a new-comer in Claybury, and there was such a lot of itabout in the parts he came from that the people thought o' nothing elsehardly.
He was a man as got 'imself very much liked at fust, especially by theold ladies, owing to his being so perlite to them, that they used to'old 'im up for an example to the other men, and say wot nice, prettyways he 'ad. Joe Barlcomb was everything at fust, but when they got to'ear that his perliteness was because 'e thought 'arf of 'em waswitches, and didn't know which 'arf, they altered their minds.
In a month or two he was the laughing-stock of the place; but wot wasworse to 'im than that was that he'd made enemies of all the old ladies.Some of 'em was free-spoken women, and 'e couldn't sleep for thinking ofthe 'arm they might do 'im.
He was terrible uneasy about it at fust, but, as nothing 'appened and heseemed to go on very prosperous-like, 'e began to forget 'is fears, whenall of a sudden 'e went 'ome one day and found 'is wife in bed with abroken leg.
She was standing on a broken chair to reach something down from thedresser when it 'appened, and it was pointed out to Joe Barlcomb that itwas a thing anybody might ha' done without being bewitched; but he said'e knew better, and that they'd kept that broken chair for standing onfor years and years to save the others, and nothing 'ad ever 'appenedafore.
In less than a week arter that three of his young 'uns was down with themeasles, and, 'is wife being laid up, he sent for 'er mother to come andnurse 'em. It's as true as I sit 'ere, but that pore old lady 'adn'tbeen in the house two hours afore she went to bed with the yellowjaundice.
Joe Barlcomb went out of 'is mind a'most. He'd never liked 'is wife'smother, and he wouldn't 'ave had 'er in the house on'y 'e wanted her tonurse 'is wife and children, and when she came and laid up and wantedwaiting on 'e couldn't dislike her enough.
He was quite certain all along that somebody was putting a spell on 'im,and when 'e went out a morning or two arterward and found 'is best piglying dead in a corner of the sty he gave up and, going into the 'ouse,told 'em all that they'd 'ave to die 'cause he couldn't do anything morefor 'em. His wife's mother and 'is wife and the children all startedcrying together, and Joe Barlcomb, when 'e thought of 'is pig, he satdown and cried too.
He sat up late that night thinking it over, and, arter looking at it allways, he made up 'is mind to go and see Mrs. Prince, an old lady thatlived all alone by 'erself in a cottage near Smith's farm. He'd set 'erdown for wot he called a white witch, which is the best kind and on'y douseful things, such as charming warts away or telling gals about theirfuture 'usbands; and the next arternoon, arter telling 'is wife's motherthat fresh air and travelling was the best cure for the yellow jaundice,he set off to see 'er.
Mrs. Prince was sitting at 'er front door nursing 'er three cats when 'egot there. She was an ugly, little old woman with piercing black eyesand a hook nose, and she 'ad a quiet, artful sort of a way with 'er thatmade 'er very much disliked. One thing was she was always making fun ofpeople, and for another she seemed to be able to tell their thoughts,and that don't get anybody liked much, especially when they don't keepit to theirselves. She'd been a lady's maid all 'er young days, and itwas very 'ard to be taken for a witch just because she was old.
"Fine day, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb.
"Very fine," ses Mrs. Prince.
"Being as I was passing, I just thought I'd look in," ses Joe Barlcomb,eyeing the cats.
"Take a chair," ses Mrs. Prince, getting up and dusting one down with'er apron.
Joe sat down. "I'm in a bit o' trouble, ma'am," he ses, "and I thoughtp'r'aps as you could help me out of it. My pore pig's been bewitched,and it's dead."
"Bewitched?" ses Mrs. Prince, who'd 'eard of 'is ideas. "Rubbish. Don'ttalk to me."
"It ain't rubbish, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb; "three o' my children isdown with the measles, my wife's broke 'er leg, 'er mother is laid up inmy little place with the yellow jaundice, and the pig's dead."
"Wot, another one?" ses Mrs. Prince.
"No; the same one," ses Joe.
"Well, 'ow am I to help you?" ses Mrs. Prince. "Do you want me to comeand nurse 'em?"
"No, no," ses Joe, starting and turning pale; "unless you'd like to comeand nurse my wife's mother," he ses, arter thinking a bit. "I was hopingthat you'd know who'd been overlooking me and that you'd make 'em takethe spell off."
Mrs. Prince got up from 'er chair and looked round for the broom she'dbeen sweeping with, but, not finding it, she set down agin and stared ina curious sort o' way at Joe Barlcomb.
"Oh, I see," she ses, nodding. "Fancy you guessing I was a witch."
"You can't deceive me," ses Joe; "I've 'ad too much experience; I knewit the fust time I saw you by the mole on your nose."
Mrs. Prince got up and went into her back-place, trying her 'ardest toremember wot she'd done with that broom. She couldn't find it anywhere,and at last she came back and sat staring at Joe for so long that 'e was'arf frightened out of his life. And by-and-by she gave a 'orrible smileand sat rubbing the side of 'er nose with 'er finger.
"If I help you," she ses at last, "will you promise to keep it a deadsecret and do exactly as I tell you? If you don't, dead pigs'll benothing to the misfortunes that you will 'ave."
"I will," ses Joe Barlcomb, very pale.
"The spell," ses Mrs. Prince, holding up her 'ands and shutting 'ereyes, "was put upon you by a man. It is one out of six men as is jealousof you because you're so clever, but which one it is I can't tellwithout your assistance. Have you got any money?"
"A little," ses Joe, anxious-like-- "a very little. Wot with the yellowjaundice and other things, I----"
"Fust thing to do," ses Mrs. Prince, still with her eyes shut, "you goup to the Cauliflower to-night; the six men'll all be there, and youmust buy six ha'pennies off of them; one each."
"Buy six ha'pennies?" ses Joe, staring at her.
"Don't repeat wot I say," ses Mrs. Prince; "it's unlucky. You buy sixha'pennies for a shilling each, without saying wot it's for. You'll beable to buy 'em all right if you're civil."
"It seems to me it don't need much civility for that," ses Joe, pullinga long face.
"When you've got the ha'pennies," ses Mrs. Prince, "bring 'em to me andI'll tell you wot to do with 'em. Don't lose no time, because I can seethat something worse is going to 'appen if it ain't prevented."
"Is it anything to do with my wife's mother getting worse?" ses JoeBarlcomb, who was a careful man and didn't want to waste six shillings.
"No, something to you," ses Mrs. Prince.
Joe Barlcomb went cold all over, and then he put down a couple of eggshe'd brought round for 'er and went off 'ome agin, and Mrs. Prince stoodin the doorway with a cat on each shoulder and watched 'im till 'e wasout of sight.
That night Joe Barlcomb came up to this 'ere Cauliflower public-house,same as he'd been told, and by-and-by, arter he 'ad 'ad a pint, helooked round, and taking a shilling out of 'is pocket put it on thetable, and he ses, "Who'll give me a ha'penny for that?" he ses.
None of 'em seemed to be in a hurry. Bill Jones took it up and bit it,and rang it on the table and squinted at it, and then he bit it agin,and turned round and asked Joe Barlcomb wot was wrong with it.
"Wrong?" ses Joe; "nothing."
Bill Jones put it down agin. "You're wide awake, Joe," he ses, "but soam I."
"Won't nobody give me a ha'penny for it?" ses Joe, looking round.
Then Peter Lamb came up, and he looked at it and rang it, and at last hegave Joe a h
a'penny for it and took it round, and everybody 'ad a lookat it.
"It stands to reason it's a bad 'un," ses Bill Jones, "but it's so welldone I wish as I'd bought it."
"H-s-h!" ses Peter Lamb; "don't let the landlord 'ear you."
The landlord 'ad just that moment come in, and Peter walked up andordered a pint, and took his ten-pence change as bold as brass. Arterthat Joe Barbcomb bought five more ha'pennies afore you could winka'most, and every man wot sold one went up to the bar and 'ad a pint andgot tenpence change, and drank Joe Barlcomb's health.
"There seems to be a lot o' money knocking about to-night," ses thelandlord, as Sam Martin, the last of 'em, was drinking 'is pint.
Sam Martin choked and put 'is pot down on the counter with a bang, andhim and the other five was out o' that door and sailing up the road withtheir tenpences afore the landlord could get his breath. He stood to thebar scratching his 'ead and staring, but he couldn't understand it a bittill a man wot was too late to sell his ha'penny up and told 'im allabout it. The fuss 'e made was terrible. The shillings was in a littleheap on a shelf at the back o' the bar, and he did all sorts o' thingsto 'em to prove that they was bad, and threatened Joe Barlcomb with thepolice. At last, however, 'e saw wot a fool he was making of himself,and arter nearly breaking his teeth 'e dropped them into a drawer andstirred 'em up with the others.
Joe Barlcomb went round the next night to see Mrs. Prince, and she asked'im a lot o' questions about the men as 'ad sold 'im the ha'pennies.
"The fust part 'as been done very well," she ses, nodding her 'ead at'im; "if you do the second part as well, you'll soon know who your enemyis."
"Nothing'll bring the pig back," ses Joe.
"There's worse misfortunes than that, as I've told you," ses Mrs.Prince, sharply. "Now, listen to wot I'm going to say to you. When theclock strikes twelve to-night----"
"Our clock don't strike," ses Joe.
"Then you must borrow one that does," ses Mrs. Prince, "and when itstrikes twelve you must go round to each o' them six men and sell them aha'penny for a shilling."
Joe Barlcomb looked at 'er. "'Ow?" he ses, short-like.
"Same way as you sold 'em a shilling for a ha'-penny," ses Mrs. Prince;"it don't matter whether they buy the ha'pennies or not. All you've gotto do is to go and ask 'em, and the man as makes the most fuss is theman that 'as put the trouble on you."
"It seems a roundabout way o' going to work," ses Joe.
"Wot!" screams Mrs. Prince, jumping up and waving her arms about. "Wot!Go your own way; I'll have nothing more to do with you. And don't blameme for anything that happens. It's a very bad thing to come to a witchfor advice and then not to do as she tells you. You ought to know that."
"I'll do it, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb, trembling.
"You'd better," ses Mrs. Prince; "and mind--not a word to anybody."
Joe promised her agin, and 'e went off and borrered a clock from AlbertPrice, and at twelve o'clock that night he jumped up out of bed andbegan to dress 'imself and pretend not to 'ear his wife when she asked'im where he was going.
It was a dark, nasty sort o' night, blowing and raining, and, o' course,everybody 'ad gone to bed long since. The fust cottage Joe came to wasBill Jones's, and, knowing Bill's temper, he stood for some time aforehe could make up 'is mind to knock; but at last he up with 'is stick andbanged away at the door.
A minute arterward he 'eard the bedroom winder pushed open, and thenBill Jones popped his 'cad out and called to know wot was the matter andwho it was.
"It's me--Joe Barlcomb," ses Joe, "and I want to speak to you verypartikler."
"Well, speak away," ses Bill. "You go into the back room," he ses,turning to his wife.
"Whaffor?" ses Mrs. Jones.
"'Cos I don't know wot Joe is going to say," ses Bill. "You go in now,afore I make you."
His wife went off grumbling, and then Bill told Joe Barlcomb to hurry upwot he'd got to say as 'e 'adn't got much on and the weather wasn't aswarm as it might be.
"I sold you a shilling for a ha'penny last night, Bill," ses Joe.
"Do you want to sell any more?" ses Bill Jones, putting his 'and down towhere 'is trouser pocket ought to be.
"Not exactly that," ses Joe Barlcomb. "This time I want you to sell me ashilling for a ha'penny."
Bill leaned out of the winder and stared down at Joe Barlcomb, and thenhe ses, in a choking voice, "Is that wot you've come disturbing my sleepfor at this time o' night?" he ses.
"I must 'ave it, Bill," ses Joe.
"Well, if you'll wait a moment," ses Bill, trying to speak perlitely,"I'll come down and give it to you."
Joe didn't like 'is tone of voice, but he waited, and all of a suddenBill Jones came out o' that door like a gun going off and threw 'imselfon Joe Barlcomb. Both of 'em was strong men, and by the time they'dfinished they was so tired they could 'ardly stand. Then Bill Jones wentback to bed, and Joe Barlcomb, arter sitting down on the doorstep torest 'imself, went off and knocked up Peter Lamb.
Peter Lamb was a little man and no good as a fighter, but the things hesaid to Joe Barlcomb as he leaned out o' the winder and shook 'is fistat him was 'arder to bear than blows. He screamed away at the top of 'isvoice for ten minutes, and then 'e pulled the winder to with a bang andwent back to bed.
Joe Barlcomb was very tired, but he walked on to Jasper Potts's 'ouse,trying 'ard as he walked to decide which o' the fust two 'ad made themost fuss. Arter he 'ad left Jasper Potts 'e got more puzzled than ever,Jasper being just as bad as the other two, and Joe leaving 'im at lastin the middle of loading 'is gun.
By the time he'd made 'is last call--at Sam Martin's--it was past threeo'clock, and he could no more tell Mrs. Prince which 'ad made the mostfuss than 'e could fly. There didn't seem to be a pin to choose between'em, and, 'arf worried out of 'is life, he went straight on to Mrs.Prince and knocked 'er up to tell 'er. She thought the 'ouse was afireat fust, and came screaming out o' the front door in 'er bedgown, andwhen she found out who it was she was worse to deal with than the men'ad been.
She 'ad quieted down by the time Joe went round to see 'er the nextevening, and asked 'im to describe exactly wot the six men 'ad done andsaid. She sat listening quite quiet at fust, but arter a time she scaredJoe by making a odd, croupy sort o' noise in 'er throat, and at last shegot up and walked into the back-place. She was there a long time makingfunny noises, and at last Joe walked toward the door on tip-toe andpeeped through the crack and saw 'er in a sort o' fit, sitting in achair with 'er arms folded acrost her bodice and rocking 'erself up anddown and moaning. Joe stood as if 'e'd been frozen a'most, and then 'ecrept back to 'is seat and waited, and when she came into the room aginshe said as the trouble 'ad all been caused by Bill Jones. She sat stillfor nearly 'arf an hour, thinking 'ard, and then she turned to Joe andses:
"Can you read?" she ses.
"No," ses Joe, wondering wot was coming next.
"That's all right, then," she ses, "because if you could I couldn't dowot I'm going to do."
"That shows the 'arm of eddication," ses Joe. "I never did believe init."
Mrs. Prince nodded, and then she went and got a bottle with something init which looked to Joe like gin, and arter getting out 'er pen and inkand printing some words on a piece o' paper she stuck it on the bottle,and sat looking at Joe and thinking.
"Take this up to the Cauliflower," she ses, "make friends with BillJones, and give him as much beer as he'll drink, and give 'im a littleo' this gin in each mug. If he drinks it the spell will be broken, andyou'll be luckier than you 'ave ever been in your life afore. When 'e'sdrunk some, and not before, leave the bottle standing on the table."
Joe Barlcomb thanked 'er, and with the bottle in 'is pocket went off tothe Cauliflower, whistling. Bill Jones was there, and Peter Lamb, andtwo or three more of 'em, and at fust they said some pretty 'ard thingsto him about being woke up in the night.
"Don't bear malice, Bill," ses Joe Barlcomb; "'ave a pint with me."
He ordered two pints, a
nd then sat down along-side o' Bill, and in fiveminutes they was like brothers.
"'Ave a drop o' gin in it, Bill," he ses, taking the bottle out of 'ispocket.
Bill thanked 'im and had a drop, and then, thoughtful-like, he wantedJoe to 'ave some in his too, but Joe said no, he'd got a touch o'toothache, and it was bad for it.
"I don't mind 'aving a drop in my beer, Joe," ses Peter Lamb.
"Not to-night, mate," ses Joe; "it's all for Bill. I bought it onpurpose for 'im."
Bill shook 'ands with him, and when Joe called for another pint and putsome more gin in it he said that 'e was the noblest-'arted man that everlived.
"You wasn't saying so 'arf an hour ago," ses Peter Lamb.
"'Cos I didn't know 'im so well then," ses Bill Jones.
"You soon change your mind, don't you?" ses Peter.
Bill didn't answer 'im. He was leaning back on the bench and staring atthe bottle as if 'e couldn't believe his eyesight. His face was allwhite and shining, and 'is hair as wet as if it 'ad just been dipped ina bucket o' water.
"See a ghost, Bill?" ses Peter, looking at 'im.
Bill made a 'orrible noise in his throat, and kept on staring at thebottle till they thought 'e'd gone crazy. Then Jasper Potts bent his'ead down and began to read out loud wot was on the bottle. "P-o-i--POISON FOR BILL JONES," he ses, in a voice as if 'e couldn't believe it.
You might 'ave heard a pin drop. Everybody turned and looked at BillJones, as he sat there trembling all over. Then those that could readtook up the bottle and read it out loud all over agin.
"Pore Bill," ses Peter Lamb. "I 'ad a feeling come over me thatsomething was wrong."
"You're a murderer," ses Sam Martin, catching 'old of Joe Barlcomb."You'll be 'ung for this. Look at pore Bill, cut off in 'is prime."
"Run for the doctor," ses someone.
Two of 'em ran off as 'ard as they could go, and then the landlord cameround the bar and asked Bill to go and die outside, because 'e didn'twant to be brought into it. Jasper Potts told 'im to clear off, and thenhe bent down and asked Bill where the pain was.
"I don't think he'll 'ave much pain," ses Peter Lamb, who alwayspretended to know a lot more than other people. "It'll soon be over,Bill."
"We've all got to go some day," ses Sam Martin. "Better to die youngthan live to be a trouble to yourself," ses Bob Harris.
To 'ear them talk everybody seemed to think that Bill Jones was in luck;everybody but Bill Jones 'imself, that is.
"I ain't fit to die," he ses, shivering. "You don't know 'ow bad I'vebeen."
"Wot 'ave you done, Bill?" ses Peter Lamb, in a soft voice. "If it'llease your feelings afore you go to make a clean breast of it, we're allfriends here."
Bill groaned.
"And it's too late for you to be punished for anything," ses Peter,arter a moment.
Bill Jones groaned agin, and then, shaking 'is 'ead, began to w'isper'is wrong-doings. When the doctor came in 'arf an hour arterward all themen was as quiet as mice, and pore Bill was still w'ispering as 'ard ashe could w'isper.
The doctor pushed 'em out of the way in a moment, and then 'e bent overBill and felt 'is pulse and looked at 'is tongue. Then he listened tohis 'art, and in a puzzled way smelt at the bottle, which Jasper Pottswas a-minding of, and wetted 'is finger and tasted it.
"Somebody's been making a fool of you and me too," he ses, in a angryvoice. "It's only gin, and very good gin at that. Get up and go home."
It all came out next morning, and Joe Barlcomb was the laughing-stock ofthe place. Most people said that Mrs. Prince 'ad done quite right, andthey 'oped that it ud be a lesson to him, but nobody ever talked much ofwitchcraft in Claybury agin. One thing was that Bill Jones wouldn't 'avethe word used in 'is hearing.
ESTABLISHING RELATIONS