by M. R. James
V
DANGER TO THE JARS
Now my ears and eyes and tongue had been dealt with, and what remainedwere the forehead and the chest. I could not guess what would come oftreating these with the ointment, but I thought I would try the foreheadfirst. There was still a day or two when the moon would be bright enoughfor the trial. I hoped that perhaps the effect of these two last jarsmight be to make me able to go on with my experiences--to keep in touchwith the new people I had come across--during the time when she--themoon, I mean--was out of sight.
I had one anxiety. The precious box must be guarded from those who wereafter it. About this I had a conviction, that if I could keep them offuntil I had used each of the five jars, the box and I would be safe. WhyI felt sure of this I could not say, but my experience had led me totrust these beliefs that came into my head, and I meant to trust thisone. It would be best, I thought, if I did not go far from thehouse--perhaps even if I did not leave it at all till the time of dangerwas past.
Several things happened in the course of the morning which confirmed mein my belief. I took up a position at the table by the window of mysitting-room. I had put the box in my suit-case, which I had locked, andI now laid it beside me where I could keep an eye upon it. The view frommy window showed me, first, the garden of the cottage, with its lawn andlittle flower beds, its hedge and back gate, and beyond that a pathleading down across a field. More fields, I knew, came after that one,and sloped pretty sharply down to a stream in the valley, which I couldnot see; but I could see the steep slope of fields, partly pasture, andthen clothed with green woods towards the top. There were no otherhouses in sight: the road was behind me, passing the front of thecottage, and my bedroom looked out that way. I had some writing andreading to do, and I had not long finished breakfast before I settleddown to it, and heard the maid "doing out" the bedroom as usual,accompanied every now and then by a slight mew from the cat, who (alsoas usual) was watching her at work. These mews meant nothing inparticular, I may say; they were only intended to be met by anencouraging remark, such as "There you are, then, pussy," or "Don't getin my way, now," or "All in good time." Finally I heard "Come alongthen, and let's see what we've got for you downstairs," and the door wasshut. I mention this because of what happened about a quarter of an hourlater.
There was suddenly a fearful crash in the bedroom, a fall, a breakingof glass and crockery and snapping of wood, and then, fainter, sobbingsand moans of pain. I started up.
"Goodness!" I thought, "she must have been dusting that heavy shelf highup on the wall with all the china on it, and the whole thing has givenway. She must be badly hurt! But why doesn't her mistress come rushingupstairs? and what was that rasping noise just beside me?"
I looked at my suit-case, which lay on the table just inside the openwindow. Across the new smooth top of it there were three deep scratchesrunning towards the window, which had not been there before. I moved itto the other side of me and sat down. There had been an attempt to decoyme out of the room, and it had failed. Certainly there would be more.
I waited; but everything was quiet in the house: no more noise from thebedroom and no one moving about, upstairs or downstairs; nothing butthe pump clanking in the scullery. I turned to my work again.
Half an hour must have gone by, and, though on the look-out, I was notfidgety. Then I was aware of a confused noise from the field outside.
"Help! help! Keep off, you brute! Help, you there!" as well as I couldmake out, again and again. Towards the far end of the field, which was apretty large one, a poor old man was trying to get to a gate in thehedge at a staggering run, and striking now and then with his stick at agreat deer-hound which was leaping up at him with hollow barks. Itseemed as if nothing but the promptest dash to the spot could save him;it seemed, too, as if he had caught sight of me at the window, for hebeckoned. How strange the cries sounded! It was as if someone wasshouting into an empty jug. My field-glasses were by me on the table,and I thought I would take just _one_ look before I rushed out. I amglad I did; for, do you know, when I had the glasses focused on the dogand the man, all that I could see was a sort of fuzz of dancing vapour,much as if the shimmering air that you see on the heath on a hot day hadbeen gathered up and rolled into a shape.
"Ha! ha!" I said, as I put down the glasses; and something in the air,about four yards off, made a sharp hissing sound. No doubt there werewords, but I could not distinguish them. A second attempt had failed;you may be sure I was well on the alert for the next.
I put away my books now, and sat looking out of the window, andwondering as I watched whether there was anything out of the common tobe noticed. For one thing, I thought there were more little birds aboutthan I expected. At first I did not see them, for they were not hoppingabout on the lawn; but as I stared at the hedge of the garden, and atthat of the field, I became aware that these were full of life. Onalmost every twig that could hold a bird in shelter--not on the top ofthe hedges--a bird was sitting, quite still, and they were all lookingtowards the window, as if they were expecting something to happen there.Occasionally one would flutter its wings a little and turn its headtowards its neighbour; but this was all they did.
I picked up my glasses and began to study the bottom of the hedges andthe bushes, where there was some quantity of dead leaves, and here, too,I could see that there were spectators. A small bright eye or a bit of anose was visible almost wherever I looked; in short, the mice, and, Idon't doubt, some of the rats, hedgehogs, and toads as well, werecollected there and were as intently on the watch as the birds. "What achance for the cat, if only she knew!" I put my head cautiously out ofthe window, and looking down on the sill of the window below, I couldsee her head, with the ears pushed forward; she was looking earnestlyat the hedge, but she did not move. Only, at the slight noise I made,she turned her face upwards and crowed to me in a modest but encouragingmanner.
Time passed on. Luncheon was laid--on another table--and was over,before anything else happened.
The next thing was that I heard the maid saying sharply:
"What business 'ave you got going round to the back? We don't want noneof your rubbish here."
A hoarse voice answered inaudibly.
_Maid_: "No, nor the gentleman don't want none of your stuff neither;and how do you know there's a gentleman here at all I should like toknow? What? Don't mean no offence? I dare say. That's more than I know.Well, that's the last word I've got to say."
In a minute more there was a knock at my door, and at the same time astep on the gravel path under my window, and a loud hiss from the cat.As I said "Come in" to the knock, I hastily looked out of the window,but saw nothing. It was the maid who had knocked. She had come to ask ifthere was anything I should like from the village, or anything I shouldwant before tea-time, because the mistress was going out, and wanted herto go over and fetch something from the shop. I said there was nothingexcept the letters and perhaps a small parcel from the post office. Shelingered a moment before going, and finally said:
"You'll excuse me naming it, sir, but there seems to be some funnypeople about the roads to-day, if you'd please to be what I mean to saya bit on the look-out, if you're not a-going out yourself."
"Certainly," I said. "No, I don't mean to go out. By the way, who was itcame to the door just now?"
"Oh, it was one of these 'awking men, not one I've seen before, and hemust be a stranger in this part, I think, because he began going roundto the garden door, only I stopped him. He'd got these cheap rubbishing'atpins and what not; leastways, if you understand me, what I thought tomyself I shouldn't like to be seen with 'em, whatever others might."
"Yes, I see," I answered; and she went, and I turned to my books oncemore.
Within a very few minutes I began to suspect that I was getting sleepy.Yes, it was undoubtedly so. What with the warmth of the day, and lunch,and not having been out.... There was a curious smell in the room, too,not exactly nasty, like something burning. What did it remind me of?Wood smoke from a cotta
ge fire, that one smells on an autumn evening asone comes bicycling down the hill into a village? Not quite so nice asthat; something more like a chemist's shop. I wondered: and as Iwondered, my eyes closed and my head went forward.
A sharp pain on the back of my hand, and a crash of glass! Up I jumped,and which of three or four things I realized first I don't know now. ButI did realize in a second or two that my hand was bleeding from ascratch all down the back of it, that a pane of the window was brokenand that the whole window was darkened with little birds that werebumping their chests against it; that the cat was on the table gazinginto my face with intense expression, that a little smoke was driftinginto the room, and that my suit-case was on the point of slipping outover the window-sill. A despairing dash at it I made, and managed toclutch it; but for the life of me I could not pull it back. I could seeno string or cord, much less any hand that was dragging at it. I hardlydared to take my hand from it to catch up something and hack at thethief I could not see. Besides, there was nothing within reach.
Then I remembered the knife in my pocket. Could I get it out and openit without losing hold? "They hate steel," I thought. Somehow--franticallyholding on with one hand--I got out the knife, and opened it, goodnessknows how, for it was horribly small and stiff, with my teeth, andsheared and stabbed indiscriminately all round the farther end of thesuit-case. Thank goodness, the strain relaxed. I got the thing insidethe window, dropped it, and stood on it, craning over the garden pathand round the corner of the house. Of course there was nothing to beseen. The birds were gone. The cat was still on the table saying "O youowl! O you owl!" The sole and only clue to what had been happening was asmall earthenware saucer that lay on the path immediately below thewindow, with a little heap of ashes in it, from which a thin column ofsmoke was coming straight up and curling over when it reached the windowlevel. That, I could not doubt, was the cause of my sudden sleepiness.I dropped a large book straight on to it, and had the satisfaction ofhearing it crush to bits and of seeing the smoke go four ways along theground and vanish.
I was perfectly awake now. I looked at the cat, and showed her the backof my hand. She sat quite still and said:
"Well, what did you expect? I had to do something. I'll lick it if youlike, but I'd rather not. No particular ill-feeling, you understand; allthe same a hundred years hence."
I was not in a position to answer her, so I shook my head at her, woundup my hand in a handkerchief, and then stroked her. She took itagreeably, jumped off the table, and requested to be let out.
So the third attack had failed. I sat down and looked out. The hedgeswere empty; not a bird, not a mouse was left. I took this to mean thatthe dangerous time was past, and great was the relief. Soon I heard themaid come back from her errands in the village, then the mistress'schaise, then the clock striking five. I felt it would be all right forme to go out after tea.
And so I did; first, however, concealing the suit-case in mybedroom--not that I supposed hiding it would be of much use--and pilingupon it poker, tongs, knife, horseshoe, and anything else I could findwhich I thought would keep off trespassers. I had, by the way, toexplain to the maid that a bird had flown against the window and brokenit, and when she said "Stupid, tiresome little things they are," I amafraid I did not contradict her.
I went out by way of the garden and crossed the field, near the middleof which stands a large old oak. I went up to this, for no particularreason, and stood gazing at the trunk. As I did so I became aware thatmy eyes were beginning to "see through," and behold! a family of owlswas inside. As it was near evening, they were getting wakeful,stirring, smacking their beaks and opening their wings a little fromtime to time. At last one of them said:
"Time's nearly up. Out and about! Out and about!"
"Anyone outside?" said another.
"No harm there," said the first.
This short way of talking, I believe, was due to the owls not beingproperly awake and consequently sulky. As they brightened up and gottheir eyes open, they began to be more easy in manner.
"Oop! Oop! Oop! I've had a very good day of it. You have, too, I hope?"
"Sound as a rock, I thank you, except when they were carrying on at thecottage."
"Oh goodness! I forgot! They didn't bring it off, I hope."
"Not they; the watch was too well set, but it was wanted. I had a leafabout it a few minutes after, and it seems they got him asleep."
"Well! I never heard anyone bring a leaf."
"I dare say not, but I was expecting it; pigeon dropped it. There it is,on that child's back."
I saw the hen-owl stoop and examine a dead chestnut leaf which lay, asthe other had said, on an owlet's back.
"Fa-a-ther!" said this owlet suddenly, in a shrill voice, "mayn't I goout to-night?"
But all that Father did was to clasp its head in his claw and push it toand fro several times. When he let go, the owlet made no sound, butcrept away and hid its face in a corner, and heaved as if with sobs.Father closed his eyes slowly and opened them slowly--amused, I thought.The mother had been reading the leaf all the time.
"Dear me! _very_ interesting!" she said. "I suppose now the worst of itis over."
"All's quiet for to-night, anyhow," said Father, "but I wish he couldsee someone about to-morrow; that's their last chance, and they_may_----" He ruffled up his feathers, lifted first one foot and thenthe other. "The awkwardness is," he went on, "if I say too much and theydo get the jars, there's one risk; and if there's no warning and theyget them, there's another risk."
"But if there _is_ a warning and they _don't_ get them," said she, verysensibly.
"Well, to be sure, that would be better, even though we don't know muchabout him."
"But where do you suppose he is, and whom ought he to see?" (It was justwhat I wanted to know, and I thanked her.)
"Why, as to the first, I suspect he's outside; there is someone there,and why they should stop there all this time unless they're listening, Idon't know."
"Good gracious! listening to our private conversation! and me with myfeathers all anyhow!" She began to peck at herself vigorously; but thiswas straying from the point, and annoyed me. However, Father went slowlyon:
"As to that, I don't much care whether he's listening or not. As to whomhe ought to see, that's rather more difficult. If he's got as far astalking to any of the Right People (he said this as if they had capitalletters), they'd know, of course; and some of them down about thevillage, they'd know; and the Old Mother knows, and----"
"What about the boys?" said she, pausing in the middle of her toilet andpoking her head up at him. He wholly disdained to answer, and merelybutted at her with his head, so that she slipped down off her ledgeseveral inches, with a great scrabbling. "Oh, _don't_!" she saidpeevishly, as she climbed back. "I'm all untidy again."
"Well then, don't ask such ridiculous questions. I shall buffle you withboth wings next time. And now, as soon as the coast is clear, I shall beout and about."
I took the hint and moved off, for I had learnt as much perhaps as Icould expect, even if all was not yet plain; and before I had gone manypaces I was aware of the pair both sailing smoothly off in the oppositedirection.
I was "seeing through" a good deal that evening; it is surprising what alot of coppers people drop, even on a field path; surprising, too, inhow many places there lie, unsuspected, bones of men. Some things I sawwhich were ugly and sad, like that, but more that were amusing and evenexciting. There is one spot I could show where four gold cups standround what was once a book, but the book is no more than earth now.That, however, I did not see on this particular evening.
What I remember best is a family of young rabbits huddled round theirparents in a burrow, and the mother telling a story: "And so then hewent a little farther and found a dandelion, and stopped and sat up andbegan to eat it. And when he had eaten two large leaves and one littleone, he saw a fly on it--no, two flies; and then he thought he had hadenough of that dandelion, and he went a little farther and found ano
therdandelion...." And so it went on interminably, and entirely stupid, likeeverything else I ever heard a rabbit say, for they have forgotten allabout their ancestor, Brer Rabbit. However, the children were absorbedin the story, so much so that they never heard a stoat making its waydown the burrow. But I heard it, and by stamping and driving my stick inI was able to make it turn tail and go off, cursing. All stoats,weasels, ferrets, polecats, are of the wrong people, as you may imagine,and so are most rats and bats.
At last I left off seeing through, by trying not to do so, and went backto the house, where I found all safe and quiet.
I ought to say that I had not as yet tried speaking to any animal, evento the cat when she scratched me, but I thought I would try it now. Sowhen she came in at dinner-time and circled about, with what I may callpious aspirations about fish and other such things, I summoned up mycourage and said (using my voice in the way I described, or rather didnot describe, before):
"I used to be told, 'If you are hungry, you can eat dry bread.'"
She was certainly horribly startled. At first I thought she would havedashed up the chimney or out of the window; but she recovered prettyquickly and sat down, still looking at me with intense surprise.
"I suppose I might have guessed," she said; "but dear! what a turn youdid give me! I feel quite faint; and gracious! what a day it has been!When I found you dozing off like a great---- Well, no one wants to berude, do they? but I can tell you I had more than half a mind to go atyour face."
"I am glad you didn't," I said; "and really, you know, it wasn't myfault: it was that stuff they were burning on the path."
"I know that well enough," she said; "but to come back to the point, allthis anxiety has made me as empty in myself as a clean saucer."
"Just what I was saying; if you are hungry, you can----"
"Say that again, say it just once more," she said, and her eyes grewnarrow as she said it, "and I shall----"
"What shall you do?" I asked, for she stopped suddenly.
She calmed herself. "Oh, you know how it is when one's been allexcited-like and worked up; we all say more than we mean. But that aboutdry bread! Well, there! I simply can't bear it. It's a wicked, crueluntruth, that's what it is; and besides, you _can't_ be going to eat allthe whole of what she's put down for you." Excitement was coming onagain, and she ended with a loud ill-tempered mew.
Well, I gave her what she seemed to want, and shortly after, worn outdoubtless with the fatigues of the day, she went to sleep on a chair,not even caring to follow the maid downstairs when things were clearedaway.