A Maggot - John Fowles (25 page)

Q. You can tell me nothing more of her?

A. No, sir.

Q. And you have seen or heard nothing of her, or of
Dick, or of his master, since the last day of April?

A. No, sir.

Q. Or read report, in newspaper or gazette?

A. No, sir, on my word.

Q. And your belief has been that Mr Bartholomew
succeeded in his plan of elopement, without any crime committed in
which you are blameable?

A. Yes, sir, until this present. Where I might be
alarmed, were I not innocent, and see your worship's most just and
merciful. I have no fear, my part was nothing, no more than porter at
the door, see you.

Q. Why have you stayed in Wales, and not returned to
London for the money Mr Lacy holds for you?

A. I wrote Mr Lacy my reasons, sir, this three months
gone.

Q. He knows naught of this.

A. No, sir, and I will take your liberty to inform
you why. First when I was landed where I was born, I did have news
that made me weep, your worship, weep as a child, for I found my poor
old mother, God rest her soul, was no more, but in her grave, and had
been the like these three years past; and a sister likewise, that I
had loved, but six months gone. And now I had no more than a brother
left, that is poorer even than Jones, true Welsh beside, which is
brother most to his own misery. Well, sir, with him I did lodge most
wretched for a month and help as I might. Then says d, Jones, says I,
'tis time you were returned to London. 'Tis a miserable small Welsh
place, your Swansea, sir. While money and Jones is like the clocks of
London, sir, we are never long together. All I had brought was run
down Gutter Lane. So I set out to walk to London, being short of
means to a better way. And came to Cardiff, where I met a friend, who
took me to his home and made me welcome; and by chance another man
was there, who when he heard that I could write and cipher, and had
been in the world, spoke of a place he knew where he worked himself,
which was Mr Williams's where your man found me, sir. For see you his
old clerk was but three days before struck sudden of an apoplexy, and
given for dead, which now he is, and Mr Williams had such press of
business upon him -

Q. Yes, yes. Come to your letter.

A. Why, sir, it was to tell of this post I had found
and that I was happy as a fairday fowl in it, found apt and
industrious by my new master, and so could not come to London. That I
was very sorry for what I had done and hoped he would now consider to
forgive me, which if he could, I should be grateful he might find
some means to send me my accompt with him.

Q. How sent you this letter?

A. By one who had cause to Gloucester, sir, and who
said he would see it sent further from there, for which I gave him a
shilling. Which he assured me was done when he returned. But I lost
my expense and trouble, sir, I had no answer of it.

Q. Did you not write again?

A. I thought it not worth the trouble, sir. That Mr
Lacy was angry, and serving me as I served him, as I dare say he had
right.

Q. Too trifling a sum to be worth your trouble?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. How much, by your account?

A. I had already taken some of Mr Lacy, before we
parted.

Q. How much?

A. Several guineas' worth, sir.

Q. Be exact.

A A guinea the god's-penny before we left and else
beside.

Q. How much else?

A. I asked some of Mr Lacy at Taunton, sir. I believe
'twas two or three guineas.

Q. Mr Lacy says one.

A. I have forgot, sir. I should have sworn it more.

Q. You are so mighty careless of money you confound
one and three? (Non respondet) You had taken two guineas, Jones. That
left owed to you?

A. Eight, sir.

Q. How much does your present place pay per annum?

A. Ten pound a year, your worship, and I know what
you would be at. But I thought it lost money, so counted it little.

Q. Near a year's wages, it is little?

A. I knew not how to claim it.

Q. Do not ships bring coals from Wales to London, and
often?

A. It may be, sir.

Q. What, you work at a chandler's and are not sure?

A. Yes, I am sure, sir.

Q. Thought you not to send a letter by one of them,
or take passage yourself, to recover your money?

A. Jones is no sailor, sir. I fear the sea, and the
privateers.

Q. I say there is some other reason. You are lying.

A. No, sir.

Q. Yes, sir. You had found out something of this
expedition into the West, that you saw fit not to tell Mr Lacy and
that you knew might bring you and all who were associated with it
into your present trouble. You would not run away and give up all
your money, were there not some greater cause.

A. I knew no more than we were told, sir. Upon my
oath. Or found out for ourselves, that Mr Lacy has already said.

Q. I have thee limed in thy own lime, man. Your first
letter to Mr Lacy spoke of a ship to Swansea out of Barnstaple, that
first of May. I have written to enquire. There was none such, nor for
ten days after.

A. No, sir, I was wrongly informed, as I found when I
came there. So I thought it, when I wrote it down. At Barnstaple I
was told I should do better at Bideford. Where I went, and found a
collier three days thence. That is truth, sir. You may inquire. Her
name was the Henrietta, Master James Parry of Porthcawl, an excellent
captain and well known.

Q. How spent you those three days?

A. I lay in Barnstaple that first day, sir, and the
next to Bideford, where I inquired on the quay there and found Mr
Parry and spoke with him for my passage. Which we took the day
following and had a safe crossing, I thank the Lord.

Q. Who told you wrongly of this ship at Barnstaple-
who at the Black Hart?

A. Why, sir, I forget now. One who was there.

Q. You wrote Mr Lacy that it was Puddicombe.

A. Then it was he, sir.

Q. Jones, I warn thee. Thou reek'st of lies as thy
country's breath doth stink of leeks.

A. No, sir. As God is my witness.

Q. I have thy letter here, which states plain that
Master Puddicombe told thee. But he swears he did not, and he's no
liar.

A. Then I mistook, sir. It was writ in great haste.

Q. And in great botch, like the rest of thy story.
For I have written to the Crown, Jones, about the horse. Now, will
you still say it was left there on the first of the month or at any
day subsequent indeed? Why do you not answer?

A. Sir, I am confused. I recollect now, I rode with
it to Bideford and did leave it there, at the sign of the Barbadoes
where I lodged, with money to keep till 'twas fetched, but did not
forget to send message by a boy to the Crown in t'other place, for if
any should inquire and think me thief of it. I swear, sir, you must
forgive I am out of wits. I said the first day without thought, to be
brief. I did not think it material.

Q. Then I will tell thee why, thou rogue, and how
near the gallows thou art. Dick is dead, upon strong suspicion of
murder, his body found hanged not a day's ride from where

thou slept; his master's chest found robbed, the box
vanished; and since that day, no word of his master nor the maid. In
which black mystery a strong presumption is that they lie

murdered also - and a stronger still, that it is by
thee. (Here the deponent exclaimed in the Welsh tongue.) What is
this?

A. Not true, not true. (Here more words in the Welsh
tongue.)

Q. What's not true?

A. The woman lives. I have seen her after.

Q. Well mayst thou hang thy head, Jones. Attempt me
one more lie, and I'll have it hanged where it best belongs, I
promise thee that.

A. I have seen her after, I swear, your honour.

Q. After what?

A. There where they went that first of May.

Q. How know you where they went? Did you not go to
Barnstaple?

A. No, sir. Oh dear God, would that I had. Dear God.
(Again, Welsh words.)

Q. Do you know where the maid presently is?

A. On God's honour, no, sir. Unless it be at Bristol,
as I will tell. And she was no maid.

Q. And Mr Bartholomew?

A. Dear God.

Q. Why do you not answer?

A. I know who he truly was. 'Twas thus I became
entangled, curse the day, though I meant well. Your worship, I could
not help it, it was told me without the asking, by a fellow that -

Q. Stop. Tell me the name you were told, no more and
no less. Do not write his answer.

A. (Respondet.)

Q. Have you told or writ this name to any?

A. No, sir. Not one, on my mother's soul.

Q. You know then for whom I pursue, Jones? Why thou
art here?

A. I may guess, sir. And most humbly crave his mercy,
for I thought to act for him, sir, when I knew.

Q. We will come to that. Now I repeat, what know you
of his Lordship, subsequent to the first of May? Have you spoken with
him, had news of him, had any knowledge whatsoever of him?

A. I know not where he is, I swear, sir, nor whether
he lives, nor of Dick and his dying. Your worship must believe me. Oh
dear God, you must believe I hid all because I was so sore afraid,
nothing else.

Q. Hid what, thou sniveller? Get off thy knees.

A. Yes, sir. I mean I knew later Dick was dead, sir,
God rest his soul. But no more, I swear you by St David's grave.

Q. How came you by this?

A. By suspicion of it, sir, not certain information.
When I had been two weeks or more in Swansea, I fell in with a
mariner in a tavern there late come from Barnstaple, who told of a
dead man found with violets stuffed in his mouth near that town. He
gave no name, sir, he mentioned it in passing, as a strange matter.
Yet it gave me forebodings.

Q. And then?

A By one I met after I removed to Cardiff, sir, in my
master Mr Williams's house, that is, his place of business, who spoke
of the same affair, for he landed that very morning from Bideford,
and talked of new discoveries, and that Bideford was full of it and
said 'twas now thought five travellers lay murdered two months past.
He said no names neither, but I guessed by the number, and other
circumstance he spake of, and have lived in great fear till this day
and would have told you at once, sir, were it not for my poor mother
and -

Q. Enough! When was this - the second report?

A. The last week of June, sir. To my best memory. Or
worst, alas. I meant no harm.

Q. Why fear'st thou so much, if thou art innocent?

A. Sir, I have seen such things I'd not believe
myself, were another to say them.

Q. Thou'lt say them to me, by Heaven, Jones. Or see
thy own evil carcass hanged. I'll have thee swung for horse-stealer,
if not for murderer.

A. Yes, sir. (More in the Welsh tongue.)

Q. And enough of thy barbarous gibberish.

A. Yes, sir. 'Tis but a prayer.

Q. Prayers will not save thee. Nothing but the truth
entire.

A. You shall have it, sir. On my word. Where would
you have me begin?

Q. Where you first lied. If that were not the cradle.

A. I have told you no lies till where we stayed when
we left Amesbury, sir, which was at Wincanton. All passed as Mr Lacy
told. Unless it be Louise.

Q. What of her?

A. I thought I was right in what I first told Mr
Lacy, as to where I had seen her before.

Q. Entering Claiborne's - that she was whore?

A. Yes, sir. But he would not have it so. So I did
not press it, yet believed what I believed, as the saying goes.

Q. That Mr Lacy had been deceived by his Lordship?

A. Tho' I knew not why, sir.

Q. Did you charge her with it?

A. No, sir, or not in manner direct. Mr Lacy said I
maunt. I spoke some light words with her, by way of proving her, and
half in sport. As I told, she would yield no ways, and spoke as a
lady's maid might, no better nor no worse.

Q. You were less certain?

A. Yes, sir, and less again when I found she lay with
Dick. I knew not what to think, unless they both laughed at their
master behind his back. Yet still I thought her she I had seen, as
was proved right, sir, you shall hear what fell at the end.

Q. You are certain his Lordship showed her no special
favours, nor met apart with her, or the like?

A. Not that I saw, sir. He would bid her good day in
the morning. He used once and again to ask if she were tired or sore,
upon our riding, tho' no more than a great gentleman should, passing
civility to his inferiors.