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The Malcotte WormsTrilogy

BOOK I

The MalcotteWorms

Daniel D. Watkins


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The Malcotte Worms

Book I

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DanielD.Watkins________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Malcotte Worms Trilogy

Book I

The Malcotte Worms

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for

Viola and Isaac

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First, look what an idle rout our noblemen keep and nourish in theirhouses, which do nothing else but carry dishes to the table and eatthem when they have down; and after, giving themselves to hunting,hawking, dicing, carding and all other idle pastimes and vain asthough they were born to nothing else at all.

Thomas StarkeyDialogue between Pole and Lupset(ca. 1529-32)

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Chapter I

Mr Jaffey took me out to the back gardens and, even as he

showed me around the dilapidated outbuildings and broken

little yards, the flowerbeds seemed to transubstantiate

themselves from shattered rubble into neat, well kempt rows;

broken walls and cracked pavings repaired themselves at a

glance.

And now the place is beginning to look more lived in

again; look at how people will want to come and rent out the

little cottages, said Mr Jaffey.

And, as he spoke, a washerwoman in headscarf and a

white apron bustled out of the doorway of a tiny terraced house

at the end of a crumpled alley. Mr Jaffey smiled and then

turned me towards the wall that separated the reclaimed Yards

from the back gardens beyond. He did not speak, as he led me

through the door in the wall, and he presented to me a scene of

three or four Indian labourers toiling in a far corner of the

Walled Garden. They were wearing long gowns and sported

the usual thick black beards and were intently hacking out a

ditch for what, I presumed, would later be a herbaceous border.

Mr Jaffey glanced at me, as if for my approval but,

before I could nod, a sudden commotion broke out amongst the

navvies. Intrigued, I stepped towards them to see what was

amiss. They ignored me, so intent were they on something that

lay at the bottom of the trench. One menial, who had removed

his tunic and undershirt, swung wildly I should say in a panic

at something in the floor of the trench. I could only see his

upper torso and head, since he was down in the ditch. His

perspiration made the mud on his shoulders and back run in

little stripes as he swung his pick in a frenzy of frustration.

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In my curiosity to see what was causing such alarm, I

took a step closer again. Being better positioned, at the side of

the trench, on a mound of freshly dug earth, I could just about

see what looked like a length of red pipe having the

circumference of a large mans thigh, I should guess.

Suddenly, the navvy with the pick looked up wildly.

I didn't get it! I haven't got it! he cried.

The others quickly ran round to a position behind the

digger; they held up various sorts of strange implements. I,

myself, was a little put out by all this and I glanced at Mr

Jaffey who was now standing beside me. He frowned and

gently touched my arm as if to suggest we should move on; but

my eye was caught by a movement down in the trench: indeed,

the red pipe was moving rather quickly too like the side of a

giant earthworm.

I really think we ought to go now, I heard Mr Jaffey

say. I noted a tone of mild agitation in his voice; but I wanted

to see what was down there; my curiosity grew with the

workers fear.

Now all men were swinging their tools down into the

pit and there then suddenly ensued a great uproar: the red

worms side now seemed to rise up from its disturbed bed of

soil. Arms and picks swung down with great scything strokes.

My goodness! What a sight then met my eyes! For out of that

earth rose up the great red worm, its head already horribly

hacked and hewn about by the men who still beat and chopped

at the neck. The top part of the head had been completely torn

away, and I could discern the lower mandibles, tongue and

much coarse, pink flesh and other, somewhat animated, internal

parts. Yet, the beast still reared menacingly while the hirelings

appearing to me to be more confident now cut and dug with

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their gardening tools. The worm began to sink down as if into

its grave.

I then stole a peep at Mr Jaffey who, as I had been, was

standing transfixed by what had just passed before our eyes:

My goodness, Mr Jaffey! I exclaimed. Then I

sighed, as if further words could not better communicate my

discomposure. Mr Jaffey turned to me, but with half his regard

still upon the hole and the broken body of the worm:

I really think we should return to the Yards now, he

said.

With a kind smile, I showed that I was inclined to

agree.

As we removed ourselves from the little mound of

earth, I asked Mr Jaffey if he could not enlighten me as to the

nature of this worm. I added that it seemed to me not

dissimilar to illustrations I had seen in the Library of the great

anacondas that are said to frequent the lakes and rivers of

South America and other dark places. Such was his apparent

keenness to be getting on, Mr Jaffey did not care to stop or

pause to answer, as we now made our way from the men to the

garden wall. Already, he was within two or three feet of the

door that led back into the Yards; I fancied, even, that he might

have made his exit before I could catch up with him. Yet, just

as I had assumed that an episode of some danger had passed

and that I too should be making my retreat through the wall, all

of a sudden, with no prior warning, I was struck with some

terrible sense of fear and foreboding. As I turned hastily round

to look back at the herbaceous border, I was filled with horror

for, slithering at a ferocious and violent speed, was yet another

worm or anaconda, more hideous and larger than the first: it

was black and the men had had no time to work upon it as they

had done with its evil brother. Most terrifyingly of all was that

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it seemed to be racing quite purposefully and deliberately in

my direction. Its eyes were savage and its great jaws gaped

like the very mouth of Hell itself. Without much ado, I took to

my heels and dashed through the door closing and bolting it

behind me with a neat, deft movement of my hand.

My goodness, Mr Jaffey! I cried. Another terrible

worm was coming down the garden path!

The gate is bolted? he asked, seemingly more

composed than he had been.

I nodded and moved away from the door.

Good, he said, moving on towards the neatened

hovels and tidied flowerbeds and paving. Then let us

proceed.

I followed Mr Jaffey, yet I remained perplexed by what

had just passed and I even looked nervously back over my

shoulder, lest the hideous monster had found a way over the

wall or perhaps had pushed, somehow, through the bolted door.

Mr Jaffey! I exclaimed all of a sudden. Mr Jaffey, I

feel rather perplexed about what has just happened.

Mr Jaffey stopped and turned to me. I think I perceived

a faint frown upon his brow:

I shall ensure that none of the tenants gets to hear

about this incident, he said.

Indeed, Mr Jaffey, I replied. Indeed, I should hope

that not the slightest suspicion as to the danger beyond the wall

be disclosed to anyone. At that moment, a doubtful thought

crossed my mind:

And yet, I began, though, needless-to-say, Mr

Jaffey sought to read my thoughts and, in an instant, he raised

his hand.

Do not concern yourself, for I assure you that no

word of this incident shall become known.

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With these words, he turned and commenced his walk

back towards the house adding:

However, I fear very much that we shall need to

advertise for a number of new gardeners in this weeks

Gazette.

Yes, indeed, Mr Jaffey, I suppose that is likely but .

Mr Jaffey interrupted once again.

Not likely, sir. Not at all, likely. The probability is

not in any doubt.

As we walked past the croquet lawn with its neatly

trimmed box hedge and topiary yews, I spoke more firmly.

No, Mr Jaffey. My concern, actually, was more over

the worms themselves; I wished to say, back there, that,

though I do not profess, in any way, to be an expert on

horticultural or botanical matters, I yet do know that such

monsters, as we have just witnessed rise up out of the

herbaceous borders, are not the typical or common fauna to be

found in an English gentlemans garden.

I see, said Mr Jaffey. But he chose to say no more

than that.

I fancied, as we ambled back along the Orangery path,

that perhaps Mr Jaffey was feeling somewhat disgruntled on

account of the recent events: he had meant to impress me with

his new yards and gardens but, what had started as a pleasantly

positive inspection had turned into something of a disaster: a

sort of nightmare, I should say. With this realisation in mind, I

chose to speak gently to Mr Jaffey in the hope that I might

ameliorate him:

Indeed, Mr Jaffey, I said. Though the worms were a

little disconcerting, I must say, I should not wish you to feel

that I have not thoroughly enjoyed and valued our little

inspection this afternoon. It is most pleasing, what I have seen,

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and I am certain that Lady Malcotte will be most satisfied to

hear that there are, indeed, already tenants in the Yards.

I paused to check the effect of my words upon Mr

Jaffeys mien and was glad to note that he looked, all of a

sudden, more relaxed and he now removed his hands from his

coat pockets and clasped them more confidently behind his

back as he walked:

Lady Malcotte. Yes. And the tenants are promising, as

you say, he muttered.

I did not wish you to overly concern yourself about the

worms, Mr Jaffey.

I stopped and so did he.

Though, I continued, I have to say they have

intrigued me a great deal during our walk back. Perhaps it

might be possible to trap a specimen worm. Do you not think

so, Mr Jaffey?

Mr Jaffey turned slowly to face me. He raised his hand

and stroked his beard thoughtfully:

Aspecimen, sir?

Yes, Mr Jaffey. The gardeners had made short shrift of

the first one after all; Im sure that a large hunting party could

capture even a live specimen quite easily. We could, then,

identify the species; it would cause quite a stir in Town, do you

not think? And, I should quite like to submit a paper to the

Academy; this is a scientific matter, after all.

Mr Jaffey nodded, though not in any manner from

which I could easily discern his thoughts upon the matter. I

chose, therefore, to continue in the prudent expectation that

further words of mine might bend his opinion in that very

direction my own thoughts were now turning.

Mr Jaffey, I continued in measured solemnity. You

are already aware that I am neither a fool nor an unthinking

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man but, rather, a gentleman of science, philosophy and reason

albeit, I should readily admit, still young in years. Indeed, Mr

Jaffey, I should consider myself to be possessed of sufficient

wisdom and experience, already, to be able to value more

highly the pursuit of knowledge and understanding than would

a gentleman of say twice or thrice my number of years.

Indeed, sir, replied Mr Jaffey.

So you see, I should very much like to capture one of

the wormsalive, Mr Jaffey.

At this point, I strode on and led the way back to the

house along the lavender path that led to the French doors to

the Library. Mr Jaffey kept close on my shoulder as we

walked. From the silence he maintained until we eventually

entered the house, I could tell he was lost in thought. I had to

admit that his newly acquired, more serious air left me with

little doubt that my proposal was, indeed, most profound if not

rather grand; so much did I feel this, that, as I led the way into

the Library, I turned to Mr Jaffey and, in an excited tone and

with animated expression I cried:

And is this not, Mr Jaffey, an opportunity for a great

adventure and not a little sport?

This outburst of spontaneous emotion surprised me and

I chose, then, to frown thoughtfully upon a sudden before

looking away.

Mr Jaffey closed the French doors behind us and

stepped before a glass-fronted cabinet containing my poor dear

fathers collection of South American carnivorous butterflies.

Indeed, sir: an adventure.

As I sat myself down upon the Trafalgar chair at my

little writing desk, Mr Jaffey assumed, what would best be

described as, a square posture not less than eighteen inches in

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front of the fire screen. Looking down at his brogues, he

spoke:

An adventure, as you should wish to call it, is, of

course, an excellent idea. He looked up. However, we must

not forget

I chose, at this very moment, to interject:

to organise that number of my friends and

acquaintances best suited to join with us in undertaking our

challenge.

Very often, Mr Jaffey would interrupt my sentences in

order to complete them with his own words which, quite

usually, it has to be said, would have been exactly those I

should have chosen myself. It gave me great pleasure,

therefore, on occasion, to play this little trick upon Mr Jaffey in

my turn and, in doing so, not only to indicate that I was fully

aware of Mr Jaffey's little idiosyncracy, but that I also

possessed the wit to present him with an imitation. I should

add that never was it my intention to present an impression of

parodist; let us say, quite simply, that here was a little game

that two civilised and intelligent gentlemen might wish to play

with one another from time to time.

Mr Jaffey smiled:

No, sir. I wished to remind you of an equally

important matter, namely: that concerning your tenants.

My tenants, Mr Jaffey? I hardly consider the tenants

to be of a suitable

disposition?

Disposition, precisely, Mr Jaffey, or class worthy of

being able to undertake such a quest as that of which I have

proposed.

Indeed, sir, replied Mr Jaffey. And I would, of

course, be entirely in agreement with you. However, the matter

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of which I had wished to remind you was that we really ought

not, at this point in time, to give the tenants any cause for

alarm.

I was immediately reminded of the fact that Mr Jaffey

possessed a greater degree of prudence than I and yet, also, I

felt, just at that moment, a mild annoyance on account of his

overriding concerns with matters more prosaic and mundane

than with which I should ever care to be trifled. Consequently,

I must confess that, my reply was somewhat piquant and very

much to the point:

I appreciate, Mr Jaffey, your concern that the tenants

should not be rendered discomposed by the fears the worms

might cause. But do you not think, also, that the capture of

these threatening monsters might, rather, establish an

impression upon them that their landlords are most very

concerned that the perilous beasts should no-longer present

them with any danger, or that discomforture one feels at the

prospect of imminent danger, to life or limb?

Mr Jaffey looked at me with raised eyebrows and I did,

then, feel that we were entering into what might be called a

disputation. I must admit that Mr Jaffey and I, though very

usually in agreement upon most matters, did differ, a great

deal, in our temperaments: I have inherited my poor dear

fathers spirit of adventure and a certain gusto, whereas it is not

beyond my ability to see that Mr Jaffey, being a member of a

somewhat inferior class, possesses strong beliefs in the

importance of less noble concerns or, rather, matters

concerning the minutiae and detail of the mechanics of the

world; details that, were I not a man of science, philosophy and

reason, should bore me to tears. To put it succinctly: though a

true English gentleman ought to value highly science,

philosophy and reason, he should not let them dull that poetry

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in his soul or that spirit of endeavour which is the true mark of

nobility. Indeed, I do allow myself, on occasion, to read the

works of Lord Byron but have never regarded Mr Keats as

being more than rather inferior and vulgar and, as for that

Shelley character, the less said, the better except to say that

his untimely death seems to provide some verification of a

divine existence.

Mr Jaffey stepped forward, a look of great solemnity

upon his brow, and his eyes fixed as if on some distant object:

May I apologise profusely, in advance, if what I am

about to say should appear to you to be, in any way, a criticism

of your poor dear father, but the importance of the Yard

tenancies to yourself, Lady Malcotte and, indeed, the whole of

the Malcotte Estates, is far greater than Lord Malcotte had

cared to imagine. I should not be so vulgar as to suggest that

there might well be a connection between your tenants and the

material benefits that are the right and privilege so enjoyed by

an English gentleman such as yourself. Mr Jaffey coughed

into his fist before continuing. However, let us admit, at least,

that the return of the tenants in most recent times is very much

to your benefit and that they should remain dutiful lessees is

much to be desired and rather essential to maintain.

At this point, I very much wished to interject, but Mr

Jaffey closed his eyes and raised his hand with such a resolute

gesture that I could see that he had every determination of

continuing without interruption.

And yet, I appreciate, no, admire your keenness that a

quest to hunt down this infernal beast be undertaken: not only

is the cause worthy of a noble gentleman, such as yourself, but

I can also see that there might well be practical and beneficial

consequences to such an adventure, as you wish to call the

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endeavour, for would not a quest indeed rid the estates of the

very cause of our tenants potential alarm?

And, Mr Jaffey, I expostulated, but my attempt to

add my own views upon the issue failed again; Mr Jaffey

raised his hand and shook his head.

Please, sir, allow me to finish. Here is my

concluding remark upon the matter: the most sensible way to

proceed, therefore, with your proposed capturing of the beast,

or beasts, remaining in the Walled Garden, is to do so under the

cloak of utter secrecy.

I had desired, of course, to remind Mr Jaffey of my

earlier remark upon the whole issue of the worms, being that it

was my contention that an overt campaign against the monsters

would result in the tenants appreciation that their betters were

at pains to ensure their security and that this would have the

further consequence of rendering the general tenancy forever in

a state of gratitude. Would this not have achieved the same end

as that of Mr Jaffey, namely: ensuring that the number of our

tenancies remained at a favourable level? As it was, I chose to

keep my thoughts to myself; Mr Jaffey was, after all, in one of

his more obstinate moods. In an effort, perhaps, to transport

Mr Jaffey to a more agreeable, amiable if not malleable frame

of mind, I decided, at this moment, to invite Mr Jaffey to

engage further with those mechanical details that I knew so

enraptured him:

Utter secrecy, indeed. Mr Jaffey, I wonder if I might,

at this juncture, request to know precisely how many tenants

are presently under discussion.

Further, it was my belief that should the number of

tenants be of an insignificant quantity, then our disputation

over the hunting of the worms might be very much over a

trifling matter and that, consequently, the issue, of whether or

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not the hunt should be covertly or overtly undertaken, was

neither here nor there.

The precise figure, sir, replied Mr Jaffey, is five

hundred, three and twenty.

Five hundred, three and twenty? I repeated. My

goodness, Mr Jaffey, it is a wonder to me that such a number,

as that, should find requisite accommodation in our Yards. Is

this number of tenants living in such incommodiously

proportioned space possible?

Mr Jaffey looked carefully at me, before answering:

Five hundred, three and twenty contracts for lease are

currently on the ledgers, sir.

And what, precisely, does that mean, Mr Jaffey? I

responded.

Well, sir, it means precisely what it means... I dare

say, continued Mr Jaffey, that the number of individual

persons dwelling in the Yards must be in the region of between

eight and ten times that number.

Mr Jaffey, at this moment withdrew his silver watch

and glanced at the time.

Eight and ten times? I replied.

Mr Jaffey looked up:

Indeed, sir. The number is a modest approximation.

I see, I said.

Mr Jaffey, I believe, saw an expression of some

bewilderment in my visage and so chose to add:

The mortality rate of infants amongst the lower orders

is, as you must appreciate, excessive and thus, it would seem,

necessitates the high number of progeny; the natural balance of

life and death within any species must dictate it thus.

Indeed, I was greatly confounded for the number of

persons thus computed seemed far too large and thus weighted,

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it would seem, very much in favour of a more covert modus

operandi regarding the capture of the worms. Nevertheless, I

felt determined that I should, eventually, have my way but

chose, for the present time, to let the issue rest there. Having

said that, already in my imagination, I had a fine scene set out

upon the South Lawns where upon stood many flags fluttering

in the bustling breeze; the sun was bright and the clouds raced

across a crisp, blue sky and below were many brightly coloured

pavilions as might be proudly arrayed upon the field of some

great tournament in times of yore.

If you do not mind, sir, said Mr Jaffey, I might

suggest that, since we have agreed about the constraints upon

our action, as should be dictated to us by our true appreciation

of the context within which such a hunt, as you desire, might

take place, we consider, now, more fully, the possible nature of

the beasts; it is not unreasonable to suppose that the full natural

historical details of these worms, and therefore their true

identity, might be found in one or more volumes from your

poor dear father's collection in this very Library. I might add

that the possibility seems to me to be even greater when I

reflect upon the fact that your poor dear father was a gentleman

scientist who had a considerable interest in the natural history

of strange creatures from foreign continents and was a

voracious collector of specimens of species so rare as to be

now totally extinct.

So lost was I in my own imaginings, at this moment,

that I failed to hear the greater part of Mr Jaffeys comments

and it was necessary for him to repeat what he had just said.

The nature of the beasts? I replied, before I could

fully gather up the reins of my thoughts and fancies. Ah yes,

indeed, Mr Jaffey. And may I add that a truly scientific

appreciation as to the worms nature, habits, peculiarities and

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predispositions is most to be desired, if we are to be successful

in our quest; and only science might provide us with the means

with which to avoid great dangers.

Mr Jaffey nodded in reply to my words and strode

forward towards a collection of large and illustrated volumes

entitled: The Zoology of Primitive Lands. Before selecting a

volume, Mr Jaffey paused and turned towards me:

I recollect, sir, that it was your initial observation,

when we were just now returning from the Yards, that the

worms resembled the great anacondas and, though the first

monster was distinctly red in colouration, it does also seem to

me, upon reflection, that it did bear some passing similarities to

such hideous creatures. It might, therefore, be not

unreasonable to look upon illustrations and to read accounts of

these particular varieties of beast first.

Without waiting for my reply, which would have been

to agree with him, Mr Jaffey returned to the large volumes, of

which there were twelve, and withdrew one from their midst.

With some effort, he lifted the great tome up onto the reading

stand, which stood beside the butterfly case, and he invited me

to join him in the perusal of its vast pages which I knew to be

illustrated with fine and richly coloured lithographic plates.

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Chapter II

It is my belief that all great adventures should have

their beginnings and endings in books, and so I watched Mr

Jaffeys turning of the pages with great excitement and

reverence for here, indeed, could rest the beginning of our great

tasks ahead and I ought not to allow myself to forget, also, that

I should wish to be able to conclude everything, once

successfully completed, in a detailed and scientific report to

the Academy; for would its members not, then, reward me for

my findings with their adulation and would they not also enfold

me into their venerable and highly respected ranks?

Mr Jaffey spoke, it seemed to me, in a whisper, as he

lifted another heavy page:

Here we are, he said, Snakes and Serpents, he

muttered as much to himself as to me and, indeed, upon the

page, which was otherwise blank, were the very words uttered

by Mr Jaffey.

I do remember, sir, he said, that your poor dear

father was most fond of these volumes, and I do recall that it

was this very volume that attracted your poor dear father above

all the others, when he was, indeed, not many more years in

advance or yourself now.

I must say that I was, at that moment, greatly moved by

what Mr Jaffey had just said, for might it not be the case that

this very page had not been looked upon since that very time to

which Mr Jaffey referred? I looked down upon the printed

page in a state of awe and wonder, for did not these very words

present themselves as a bridge from myself now to my poor

dear father as he was then, all those years ago? So enraptured

was I that Mr Jaffeys hands appeared to me to be those of

some holy priest, as he turned the leaf.

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And here, sir, are the illustrations we have been hoping

to find. They have been drawn and coloured by the great

French adventurer: Roland de Ponteulant and are, therefore,

perhaps, a little fanciful, yet, they will serve our present

purpose well enough. Look how he gives each creature an

expression; enchantantas the French would say.

Mr Jaffey now pointed with his finger at one particular

snake that did, indeed, seem to me to be smiling back at us.

Another appeared to stare out from the page right into my own

eyes with a most knowing look and, not without some

disconcertedness, I attempted to glance away.

So many illustrations, Mr Jaffey, I muttered, a little

breathlessly. I did not like to look down upon those two pages

of illustrations by that fanciful Frenchman.

Is there not another page, Mr Jaffey? I mumbled. I

do not think these serpents here resemble, in the least, those

monsters beyond our Yards.

And then, as if magically transfixed by the evil on those

pages, the worms began to writhe and intertwine as if I were

looking down upon some great pit of vipers rather than upon

the fanciful cartoons of some French adventurer.

Is there not another page, Mr Jaffey? I heard myself

say. But still the page did not turn and I suppose Mr Jaffey was

inspecting each illustration more carefully than I found myself

at all able to do.

With some considerable effort of will and with a faint

sensation of nausea, I did eventually manage to take my eyes

off the pages and look away and, whilst Mr Jaffey poured over

the plates, I found myself looking, instead, into the glass case

and intently upon the last bird-eating butterfly to have been

captured in a village on some lost Bolivian plain. Whilst

tracing the perimeter of its large wings with my eyes, I found

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myself regaining composure, and it was not long before I felt

able to speak to Mr Jaffey who had still not turned the page of

the great book.

It is my contention, Mr Jaffey, I said, that not one of

the illustrations resembles the worms we have witnessed this

afternoon. I do feel you should now turn to the next page

where the text may provide us with more helpful and more

scientific details than are exhibited in those, may I say, rather

fantastical images by some crazed French adventurer. I must

confess to my uttering these words with a certain tone of pique

which I found hard to disguise.

Mr Jaffey did not reply, at first, but then I sensed him

looking carefully at me just before he spoke:

Indeed, sir, I think your judgement to be most

probably sound, for I have perused each illustration most

carefully and find there to be little resemblance, anywhere

here, to the worm I saw in the Walled Garden. May I request

to know, sir, if you are feeling quite well; its just that your

complexion is most awfully pale. I do wonder if you are quite

well.

I had noticed, Mr Jaffey, I replied, that, as we

returned from the Yards through the gardens along the

Orangery path, though this afternoon was somewhat overcast

and did present a most dismal, grey, aspect, the air was, rather

warm, particularly for a day in early November, needless-to-

say, and I should describe the atmosphere to be humid, if not

oppressive and, I am certain, it is on this account that I do now

feel rather wan; I am not the least surprised that I should appear

pale to you.

I was convinced, myself, that the closeness of the

weather was very much the cause of my present state of

discomforture.

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I wonder, Mr Jaffey, I continued, if it might not be

an unreasonable suggestion, especially considering my present

discomposure, that we take a little tea.

Mr Jaffey nodded with some alacrity and, without so

much as a page turn, began to make his way across the Library

to the bell-pull by the far door.

Might I say, sir, I do think that to be a most sensible

suggestion, for is it not the very hour when a gentleman should

take tea and, furthermore, have we not endured a most

extraordinary experience this afternoon? I must confess that I

feel somewhat awkward that I did not make the suggestion

myself.

I smiled as best I could and took myself away from the

butterfly case to go and sit down back at my little writing desk.

Once seated, I felt a little more able to speak further; I waited

for Mr Jaffey to return from the door, however, before I spoke:

May I, Mr Jaffey, make a further suggestion to the

effect that you turn the page and read to me the details on the

next leaf? It may well be that we will glean from the text some

greater enlightenment than we have managed to find in those

French illustrations which, I must confess, do seem to me to be

more closely related to fiction than scientific fact.

Mr Jaffey, who had now nearly returned to the book

stand, nodded and spoke with some enthusiasm:

Indeed, sir. It is of little wonder that you have found

the images on these pages to be somewhat lacking in that

rigour and accuracy of detail, that an English gentleman should

expect to find, within the leaves of a book presenting upon its

cover and spine an impression of being scientific, given that

they are the scribblings of some romantic Frenchman.

However, I should add, at this juncture, sir, words that will be,

no doubt, of some comfort to you, for it is my belief that the

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accompanying text, to those French images, is by none other

than the famous Scottish naturalist, Dr Hamish Crump.

Well then, I replied from my Trafalgar chair, Let us

hear, without delay, what the gentleman has to say and,

perhaps, he will throw a better light upon the identity of our

worms than we have managed to find in the preceding two

pages of illustrations.

Very well, sir, said Mr Jaffey, and, without further

ado, he turned the page and, I must admit that I felt, at that

instant, a sensation that can only be described as a lightening of

the heart.

Mr Jaffey began to recite from Dr Crumps text but had

proceeded no further than the title, date of composition and

authors academic credentials, when the door to the Library

opened and a maid entered with the tea things upon a tray and,

as soon as Mr Jaffey stopped, removed his pince-nez and when

I, myself, looked up from my chair, she immediately inquired

of us both as to where she should place down her burden. Mr

Jaffey frowned with some annoyance at having been

interrupted from his reading and, with no more than a flick of

his hand, he pointed to the nest of Italian marquetry tables that

stood at the tail end of the tiger rug not a few feet from where I

was sitting. Mr Jaffey replaced his pince-nez and looked down

upon the words of Dr Crump, as the maid brought the tea

things over and placed them on the table. From the corner of

my eye, I saw that she bobbed a brief curtsy before removing

herself from my sight and she thence turned and made her exit.

As soon as the door had closed, I spoke:

Well, Mr Jaffey, might I suggest that you continue

reading, while I pour the tea, and perhaps you might report

what you find from the words of this Scottish expert.

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Mr Jaffey glanced up and, with little more than a nod,

he returned his eyes to the page before him and read on in

silence. Whilst he continued to read, I got up from my chair

and made my way across the rug to the tea tray. Mr Jaffey

continued and did appear to be most caught up with whatever it

was that was being revealed to him, and I raised the teapot and

began to pour. After pouring the tea, I added a little milk to

each of our cups and then, feeling there was little more I could

do, except wait for Mr Jaffey to finish his article, I returned

across the tiger rug and sat myself back down.

After a period of just a few more minutes, Mr Jaffey

looked up and removed his pince-nez:

Well, sir, I have now completed my reading of Dr

Crumps accompanying text to the illustrations on the

preceding two pages and can conclude that it would seem most

likely that the beasts we witnessed this afternoon in the Walled

Garden were, indeed, not anything remotely connected to

anacondas or any other tropical or domestic worm yet know by

those in the civilised world.

After making his pronouncement, he sighed and

stepped away from his little podium and approached the tea

things.

I felt, in an instant, a confusion of two emotions,

namely: elation at our being on the threshold of a possible new

and great discovery; and yet also: puzzlement and wonder over

how it was that such, as yet, unknown beasts should have made

their habitation in a corner of the Malcotte Estate.

Well, Mr Jaffey, I said, after a brief moment of

introspection, how peculiar that we should find such strange

worms here, on the Malcotte Estate.

Mr Jaffey picked up the two tea cups and came over to

me with them and I took one from him gladly and he returned

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across the tiger rug to seat himself down upon a chaise longue,

stirring his tea with a little silver spoon.

It is, indeed, sir, replied Mr Jaffey, before raising the

cup to his lips. I can only wonder, he continued, after

dabbing his whiskers lightly with his silk handkerchief, over

how it has come to pass that such diabolical creatures, as we

have seen this afternoon, came to be there and I can only

conclude that it is a possibility, a possibility and nothing more,

that your poor dear father returned with them from one of his

expeditions.

I have to confess that Mr Jaffey expressed an opinion

that might have been stolen from my own mind, for it was in

this direction that my own thoughts had been traveling,

namely: that the worms might once have been specimens

brought back from an expedition to some far flung and dark

land.

Mr Jaffey, I said, you are most surely correct to have

reached this conclusion which seems most reasonable to me;

though I might suggest that the worms must, in some way, have

escaped.

Mr Jaffey nodded in agreement:

I should imagine this to be possible.

And further, I continued, I do think it most odd that

we did not get to know anything about the worms until now,

for it was not in my poor dear fathers nature to keep his work

ever a secret; in fact, Mr Jaffey, he was always most

enthusiastic in making known all and precise details of his

scientific expeditions. Does it not seem strange, Mr Jaffey?

Mr Jaffey lowered his cup:

It does, indeed, sir. Might I also make the comment, at

this moment, that it had been our intention, had it not, to

discover the identity and, thereby, the habits and general nature

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of the worms. It would seem that, in this endeavour, we have

not met with success and, consequently, it is true to say, that

our foe, for truly we must conceive of this beast as an enemy,

presents us with considerable potential danger. For this reason,

sir, I do wonder if it might be prudent to undertake some form

of scientific study so that we might be better prepared as

regards your proposed capturing of one or more of the beasts.

After all, the red worm was a most ferocious animal and you

were pursued by another, before making your escape through

the garden door. How many creatures inhabit the Walled

Garden is, also, as yet, not known to us. Indeed, a great myriad

of doubts and saucy fancies can easily spring to mind, and

many terrible dangers must be considered possibilities at this

time.

Mr Jaffeys salient words plunged me into deep

thoughts. Certainly, Mr Jaffey expressed an opinion of great

common sense for it would be foolhardy, at the very least, to

engage with such dangerous and venomous adversaries, when

not furnished with some knowledge and understanding

appertaining to their nature, habits and numbers. And yet,

again, I felt Mr Jaffeys wise comments to be but a great

weight that must hold me down and, for this reason, my

thoughts tended towards some expression of contrariness rather

than concurrence of opinion:

I do wonder, Mr Jaffey, I said after some minutes of

silence, over the fact that we find ourselves confronted with a

strange paradox or dilemma, for our best course of action, as

you rightly suggest, would appear to be to study the nature and

number of the beasts before engaging upon our hunt, and yet,

in order to achieve this initial objective, it would seem that we

should first have to capture a live specimen.

Mr Jaffey raised his eyebrows, but I continued:

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Which course of immediate action should be

undertaken? Well, may I suggest that it would be necessary,

first, to capture one of these worms, for how could we study

the nature of the beasts without beasts to study?

Mr Jaffey nodded in a manner which suggested to me

that he appreciated the nature of the paradox but not my

conclusions as to its resolution, for his nodding turned to a

shaking of the head before he replied:

We do, indeed, sir, appear to find ourselves confronted

with a dilemma: might I suggest that we can observe an animal

quite scientifically without the necessity of its entrapment and,

furthermore, an animal observed within its habitual and natural

environment would be more likely to reveal its true nature,

than one observed in captivity.

Something, beyond my immediate understanding,

possessed me at this moment and I felt compelled to rise from

my chair so that I found myself standing upon the tiger rug

before Mr Jaffey. I spoke out thus:

I must, Mr Jaffey, speak my mind clearly upon this

whole matter.

Mr Jaffey lowered his cup and saucer and looked up

with faint surprise. I continued:

Though I do consider myself to be a student of

science, philosophy and reason, I have, I am quite certain of

this, inherited my poor dear fathers practical sensibilities and,

Mr Jaffey, I must confess to a certain detestation of inactivity,

deleteriousness, prevarication and procrastination, and I

It would seem that another, equally potent passion then

possessed me for I found myself, upon a sudden, to be quite

lost for words and I stood there, upon the rug, gaping like a

landed trout. In my confusion, embarrassment and shame, I

could not bring myself to look at Mr Jaffey at all and preferred,

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instead, to cast my eyes downwards and so, consequently,

found myself staring into the dull glass eyes of the tiger, upon

whose back I now stood.

I do apologise, Mr Jaffey, for my sudden and peculiar

outburst. I cannot think what passions then possessed me and

must confess to allowing certain, strange, emotions to take, for

a brief moment, control over my faculty of reason. Very

sheepishly, I looked up at Mr Jaffey. A very foolish outburst,

Mr Jaffey, I mumbled.

However, Mr Jaffey, I then observed, smiled kindly and

spoke with some gentleness:

Sir, I knew your poor dear father for many years and

I recall, fondly I should say, that, when he was your age I say

this now with all due respect he was inclined, upon occasion,

to lose his composure, especially when he was in possession of

the one or two downy feathers of that youthful impetuosity as

are exhibited in your own present disposition. But, I am

inclined to add, that he was quick in learning to appreciate the

importance of good sense and dispassionate reason. Your poor

dear father was, indeed, possessed of an adventurous and

curious spirit but was, nevertheless, not a fool.

How that final word cut me!

Afool, Mr Jaffey?

Mr Jaffey raised his hand and closed his eyes as if to

indicate to me that I had taken hold of the wrong end of the

stick, as the saying goes.

Please, sir, do not misconstrue my meaning which is

simply to agree with you that you are, indeed, in possession of

a good number of your poor dear fathers traits, not least of

which was his propensity to indulge in impetuosity, upon

occasion, when in his younger days and, furthermore, I

reiterate, that he was no fool and, by implication, sir, I should

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hope that it was clear that I meant you to understand that you,

too, are no fool.

I see, I replied thoughtfully.

Mr Jaffey leaned forward and replaced his cup and

saucer upon the tea tray in front of him. Then he leaned back

upon the chaise longue and placed together the ends of his

fingers and closed his eyes:

Indeed, sir, he said, you are no more of a fool than I

am a prevaricator. He then opened his eyes and leaned

slightly forward. I have always considered myself to have

been a devotee, a champion, ofpraxis.

I did, at this moment, wish to interject, in order to

defend myself against those earlier words of mine which had,

clearly, touched upon one or two of Mr Jaffeys nerves.

However, I was prevented from doing so by Mr Jaffey who

raised his hand and spoke on:

I hope you would not mind, sir, if I were to make a

most practical suggestion.

I sat back, a little, in my Trafalgar chair.

Not in the least, Mr Jaffey, I replied.

I chose, then, to say no more, though the opportunity to

correct any earlier implied criticism of Mr Jaffey, by myself,

had just arisen.

Good, sir. Well, my practical suggestion is this: that

we should, without great delay, summon all those good

personages and acquaintances of yours whom we consider to

possess the knowledge, wit or expertise favourable in helping

us towards a solution of our present problem, namely

concerning what best to do with the worms. Such personages

should, I might suggest, include individuals well versed in the

arts or sciences of trapping and hunting game as well as

individuals possessed of theoretical understanding and

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knowledge related to such strange beasts with which we have

now found ourselves encumbered.

Mr Jaffey sat back as if to indicate that he had said as

much as he wished to say. I felt, at that moment obliged to

furnish him with a reply:

Mr Jaffey, I said, I consider your suggestion to be a

most sensible proposal and, may I add, it does provide us with

a practical way forward which, if I may say so, is neither

impetuous nor dilatory. May I further add, Mr Jaffey, that it is

also my humble opinion, regarding this whole matter, that the

dangers and mysteries of these vile beasts are considerable and

very possibly of too great an extent to be faced by the two of us

alone.

Mr Jaffey, at this point, rose slowly to his feet.

Very well, sir. Then we are agreed and I should

suggest that we set about compiling a list of guests for a great

dinner to be held upon a date not too distant from now and that

such a list should be drawn up by ourselves very soon indeed.

I too rose to my feet, for I felt this moment to be an

occasion of great solemnity and due reverence and that it was

inappropriate for me to remain seated.

My dear Mr Jaffey, I said, I could not agree more

and, as I am here at my writing desk, does it not seem mete that

we should set to and complete our list of guests post haste?

Indeed, it may be possible to send out invitations this very

evening.

Mr Jaffey rose on his toes and his brogues creaked. He

placed his hands in his trouser pockets before lowering himself

back down upon his heels and replied:

Ah, now, sir, he said, it would, first, be necessary

for me to inform Lady Malcotte of our plan of action. He

looked up and suddenly at me. I do envisage, after all, the

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necessity and desirability of a most grand if not lavish dinner.

Furthermore, sir, might I suggest that it would be wiser for us

to both sleep upon the whole matter, for we have experienced

and discussed a good many things this afternoon and I,

personally, have always found it best to give important

decisions, in life, a little time to mature; a nights sleep is

usually sufficient. Might I suggest, sir, that we meet at

breakfast tomorrow to discuss the details of our list of guests

then?

I had to admit that Mr Jaffey conveyed to me some

perfect good sense and, moreover, I was feeling quite fatigued,

in spite of my excitement. Therefore, Mr Jaffeys words were

enough to convince me that I should agree to his proposals.

Mr Jaffey, I replied, I do feel a great sense of

elation at the way two civilised gentlemen, such as ourselves,

find it possible to arrive at an amicable conclusion, and thus

settle their differences, by means of reason and intelligent

discourse; and I marvel, on such occasions as these, over how

it is that we have progressed to this high and noble state of

modus vivendi.

Mr Jaffey nodded sagely and added:

Indeed, sir. Were we members of a more primitive and

savage nation, as one might find on the continent of Africa or

in other undeveloped nations, I should dare say that we might

both now be lying upon the floor quite dead from injuries

inflicted one upon the other and, would we not now, have made

a fine brace of companions for this tiger upon whose back we

now stand.

With these words, Mr Jaffey smiled and I laughed

warmly:

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DearMr Jaffey, as we are in such a congenial mood

and have made our important decisions, might I invite you to

join me in a bottle or two of fine Madeira or Porto wine?

Mr Jaffey nodded most appreciatively before he took a

step away and began to walk in the direction of the door.

May I request, he said, a brief audience with Lady

Malcotte first before I join you, for I feel you have made a

most amicable suggestion and should very much enjoy a

bumper or two with your good self, sir.

Excellent, Mr Jaffey, I replied gaily. Let us meet in

the Billiard Room in half an hour or so.

Very well, sir. I ask you, now, to excuse me for a short

moment.

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Chapter III

I had dispatched a bottle of very good Porto wine on

my own before Mr Jaffey had eventually joined me in the

Billiard Room the previous evening and, after profuse

apologies for his late arrival, we thence had continued,

together, to enjoy another three or four bottles of the most

excellent vintages before retiring to bed at about two oclock.

Our little celebration, as I should like to consider our evening

to have been, now left me feeling a little under the weather and,

consequently, when I joined Mr Jaffey in the Breakfast Room,

my nerves felt a little exposed.

I had just greeted Mr Jaffey who, in return, offered me a

salutary nod from behind the Gazette, when there erupted, as it

were, a most discordant din from without; a great wailing and

shouting, shrill and most jarring upon the ears and the nerves,

caused me to close my eyes and Mr Jaffey to lower his paper.

After a short period, during which the uproar continued and

seemed, even, to be increasing in volume, I opened my eyes

and looked at Mr Jaffey, who had risen from his chair and was

staring at the door.

Good heavens, Mr Jaffey! I exclaimed. What an

infernal cacophony! What on Earth could be the matter?

Mr Jaffey looked at me and puffed with some

annoyance:

Indeed, sir: a most inharmonious pandemonium! He

then put his head to one side as if to listen more intently.

It would seem to me, sir, he continued, to be the

wailing and ululation of some women who, I should estimate,

must be not a great distance down the Jade Gallery . If you

will excuse me, sir, perhaps I should go to investigate for such

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a din may well disturb Lady Malcotte and must be quelled as

soon as possible.

I was strongly inclined to agree and was more than

thankful that Mr Jaffey had volunteered to take it upon himself

to confront the cause or causes of what could only be called an

aubade from Hell.

I am, Mr Jaffey, most enthusiastic in my support of

your proposal and I do believe the noise to be either increasing

in volume or else its source to be increasingly close. Do please

investigate, Mr Jaffey, without delay.

And I then held my poor head for sheer pain and was

glad to see Mr Jaffey remove himself from the Breakfast Room

without delay.

No Sooner had Mr Jaffey left the room, when the

riotous yelling and shrieking subsided and I could only then

just hear Mr Jaffeys voice speaking sternly above the

convulsive sobbing of several women.

I was little interested to listen very much further and, in

any case, was unable to discern anything, save the occasional

word or phrase from Mr Jaffey, so turned myself slowly round

and approached the sideboard. Due to my state of fatigue and

nervous discomposition, I felt it almost incumbent upon me

that I should refortify myself by means of a large and hearty

breakfast.

I had read a book, some while ago now, which

described the gastronomic traditions of the Chinese people and

was, I remembered, written by an Italian missionary, whose

name I have now forgotten. But one thing I recalled well was

how these peoples, stricken often by the most ferocious and

wide-reaching famines, would convince themselves of the

efficacy of consuming plants or animals, that must be

construed to be totally inedible in the civilised world, by

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attaching curative and medicinal associations to them. I

remembered, for example, having read that the most foulsome

snakes would be flayed alive and thence their pink flesh

greedily gnawed quite readily by the natives of one northern

province because they believed the venomous flesh to be a sure

remedy against the bitter cold. Half inspired by my

recollections of these culinary accounts, I decided that it would

be best for me, now, to fill my plate with the pigs kidneys,

some black pudding and a little calfs liver. It was my

reasoning that I should consume those parts of animals that

might best supply me with energy, as I was feeling almost faint

from the exertions of the preceding late evenings celebrations

with Mr Jaffey. What foods could better provide a gentleman

with such requisite energy than those meats containing copious

quantities of congealed blood? Needless-to-say, though I felt a

little queasy, to put it mildly, I piled my plate generously and

thence carefully stepped back towards the breakfast table.

Barely had I sat myself down and raised my fork, when the

door opened and in walked Mr Jaffey who, I had to confess,

looked considerably paler than I felt.

Ah, Mr Jaffey, I declared. I trust all is now well.

Do please breakfast with me and, given that you appear

somewhat pallid, may I warmly suggest you join me in helping

yourself to those kidneys, black puddings and livers, for I am

convinced they will help restore a little colour to your cheeks.

With these words, I pierced the side of one of the

kidneys and conveyed it, by means of my fork, to my lips.

Mr Jaffey glanced quickly back at the door as if he were

a man pursued, raised his hands and shook his head.

Sir, I hope I do not now appear to you to be

discourteous but, for the immediate moment, may I decline

your kind suggestion that I should, at this juncture, join you at

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the breakfast table, for I wish to report, rather, that there seem

to be four Tunisian women outside in the Jade Gallery.

I frowned with some confusion and lowered my fork

and knife.

Tunisian women? I repeated. And it was they who,

just now, were making that confounded

din, sir. Yes, indeed. It was they, interrupted Mr

Jaffey somewhat, I noticed, breathlessly. He stepped towards

the breakfast table and pulled at his beard with the tips of his

fingers. It was they, sir.

At this point, I placed down upon the table, my knife

and fork and clasped together my hands for, I have to confess, I

felt a great wave of nausea pass through me and the blood drain

from my head. Mr Jaffey, who stood on the opposite side of

the table appeared to me to fade into a darkness, and the grey

morning light from outside seemed to blacken as at the

beginning of some great storm.

They? I whispered. A barely perceptible Mr Jaffey

responded with a nod:

Indeed, sir. It would seem, he continued, that the

husbands of these women did not return home last night.

I see, I replied; though, in actual fact, I was only able

to connect the Indian gardeners, I had seen the previous

afternoon, with these Tunisian women, after an effort of

considerable will. As it was, it remained an enigma to me why

these women should now be in the house making such a roar so

early in the morning as ten oclock.

Would these women outside the door be the wives of

the Indian gardeners we saw yesterday afternoon? I asked.

Mr Jaffey shook his head:

Indeed no, sir, he replied. These women are now

no-longer the wives but the widows of the gardeners I deemed

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to have perished in the Walled Garden and who were,

themselves, from Tunisia.

I began to feel less faint, on a sudden, and opened my

eyes, having closed them to listen more effectively to Mr

Jaffeys most recent words. Indeed, I felt tolerably well

enough to reply:

I see. Yet, Mr Jaffey, I am still at a loss to know why it

is that they have chosen to invade our peace and privacy and to

call upon us uninvited in this most ill-mannered fashion.

I believe Mr Jaffey was about to reply, for his mouth

began to articulate some utterance, but he was suddenly

interrupted by the door which began to open. Mr Jaffey closed

his mouth and looked round and I waited in some state of

consternation to see who or what would appear.

At first, they were obscured from my view because Mr

Jaffey stood directly in my line of sight (though I could see the

door open and close over the top of Mr Jaffeys head). I was

most grateful that Mr Jaffey then stepped to one side, for I was

feeling far too weak to call upon him so to do myself and, in

addition to my nausea, I was now afflicted with a most

disagreeable sensation affecting my vision, for the whole room

before me began to pitch and sway as if I had been transported

magically into the cabin of some East Indiaman rolling on the

waves of some godforsaken sea. I raised my napkin to my lips

feigning a polite removal of a crumb or a little blood from my

last mouthful of pigs kidneys; but, in fact, I felt a most violent

convulsion in my throat and, to my considerable alarm, fancied

I might require rather more than a napkin. It was as if my mind

was too preoccupied with these concerns to appreciate the full

impact of what was now within my sight, for I did not, at first,

fully comprehend what was before me. I found myself, indeed,

looking to Mr Jaffey to explain, and, I am glad to say, he was

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very quick to recognise a situation that did require some

elucidation:

Ah yes, sir, these are, indeed, the individuals who were

causing such a disturbance not five minutes ago.

Mr Jaffey paused then as if expecting some response

from me. I managed to nod once, slowly and carefully. I

should add that, standing at the door beside Mr Jaffey were

four individuals sporting long, dark robes and who were so

heavily veiled that not one inch of their appearances was in the

least apparent, and, even in my poor frame of mind, I was able

to deduce that these individuals were so attired on account of

their being Mohammedans, for I had seen, some time ago,

illustrations in a book about these peoples. I must confess, the

illustrations I had seen as a child had left me in a state of great

confusion and trauma and now, when confronted with live

specimens of these veiled creatures, I must say that their

appearance was surely the cause of my present state of

discomfort or, at least, a major contributory factor. They

reminded me of items of some old furniture draped in dust

sheets I had once seen in the attics when a boy. Now they

swam before me: strangely silent.

What, Mr Jaffey, would seem to be the cause of their

complaint? They do seem, now, rather subdued, I am glad to

say, I said. Perhaps they are now placated in some way, and

I am quite content that, Mr Jaffey, in which case they should be

permitted to leave without further delay or further ado.

Mr Jaffey glanced at me and clasped his hands together

as if to suggest that no quick or easy solution to their being

able to depart was at hand:

These individuals, sir, are, indeed, the widows of the

labourers we visited yesterday afternoon. I believe

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Our husbands! They are dead in the garden!

Interjected one of the individuals who now stepped forward

and, I fancied, considered herself to be the spokesman for the

group. Needless-to-say, Mr Jaffey and I were quite taken

aback by this interruption. I was most disconcerted that this

widow seemed now to be addressing me, personally. I looked

at Mr Jaffey.

Mr Jaffey, I was pleased to see, stepped towards the

woman and thence proceeded to explain:

Indeed, sir, I believe that the widows are now most

concerned that their husbands, or, I should say, the dead bodies

of their former husbands, be buried as soon as possible. It is, I

believe, a custom with these peoples to bury their dead almost

without any delay at all.

I see, I replied, before looking down at my plate of

barely consumed breakfast. Mr Jaffey, I continued, I shall

now leave the room rather quickly and do request that you

resolve all immediate concerns regarding these visitors. I

suggest, also, that you and I should reconvene here in an hour.

Without another word uttered between us, I rose as

deftly as I could and, clasping my napkin to my lips removed

myself from the Breakfast Room with some rapidity.

It was midday before I felt well enough to seek out Mr

Jaffey. My head had cleared a little and my general

constitution did seem to be recovering tolerably well. Indeed,

after a light rest, I felt, upon a sudden, quite rapaciously

hungry, and it was with a somewhat mixed sense of purpose

that I left my bed chamber to find Mr Jaffey.

Given that I had previously suggested that we should

reconvene in the Breakfast Room and that there, also, I should

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be able to revitalise myself with nourishment, I made my way

down stairs as quickly as I could.

It was on my way along the Jade Gallery, towards the

Breakfast Room, that I was met by a most disconsoling sight; I

could barely believe my eyes and, indeed, forced myself to

blink two or three times lest I should be hallucinating, for

there, at the far end of the eastern side of the Jade Gallery, were

the four veiled widows: I had turned the corner quite

unsuspectingly, and there they were: not half-way down and

between myself and my objective. It goes without saying that I

was compelled to stop dead in my tracks and, for what seemed

to me to be a considerable duration of time, I felt quite unable

to take one step forth or in retreat. And, in this time, my mind

was filled with conflated thoughts and passions. Most

particularly, I felt an extreme annoyance but this, in turn,

seemed vaguely to be directed at three objects, namely: Mr

Jaffey, for clearly having failed to dispense with the problem;

myself, for feeling a strange sense of powerlessness in my own

house; and the Mohammedan women, for existing in that

manner of being.

Interestingly, my period of silent, still contemplations

seemed to have rendered me as good as invisible to the veiled

widows for they did little more than shuffle about a few yards

from the Breakfast Room door and, were it possible for them to

actually see out through their thick veils, I should have seemed

to them nothing more than a statue or item of furniture.

Whatever, they addressed me not nor did they spy me and so,

very gently, I stepped backwards to whence I had come and

was soon round the corner on the south side of the Jade Gallery

and though it may have been possible to see me through the

windows, I felt confident enough, now, to walk furtively away

without their perceiving my movements. Yet, though out of

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immediate danger, I was now struck with doubts as to what I

should do.

Certainly, my way into the Breakfast Room along the

Jade Gallery was barred by those wretched harridans. That I

should continue to make the Breakfast Room my objective

seemed in little doubt because, I reasoned, Mr Jaffey must be

therein ensconced as we had agreed earlier to meet there, albeit

an hour before the present time. Though there was some

possibility that he may have already vacated the room, I further

reasoned that this must remain an unlikelihood, not least

because the veiled widows remained themselves outside the

door and were as much an obstacle for Mr Jaffey as they were

for me. A most unpleasant growling in my stomach and a

lightness and slight dizziness in my head reminded me, also,

that it was quite imperative that I should discover a way of

entering the Breakfast Room without much more

procrastination.

It occurred to me then, that though the internal door at

the end of the Jade Gallery was blocked, there was no real

reason at all why I should not, alternatively, enter by way of the

external French doors that looked out over the South Lawns. I

needed, simply, to pass through the Library and thence straight

out onto the Orangery path and then work my way along the

South faade towards the West wing. I would have little

trouble, then, in gaining the attention of Mr Jaffey who would

then let me in. Indeed, here also would be the means of our

escape.

Much satisfied with my plan, I dallied no longer and

repaired myself as quickly as I might in the direction of the

Library.

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Once I had reached the Library, I entered with all

stealth and made my way past the bookcases and glanced a

little shyly to my left as I passed the butterfly cases and the

book stand. Without much trouble, I opened the French doors

out of the Library and closed them carefully behind me as I

stepped out. I was greeted, immediately, by a cold, dank

morning where the high, grey clouds of two hours ago

appeared to have descended to an altitude not a few feet above

my head. When I looked up, the upper windows of the South

elevation were lost in a thick, wet cloak of mist and the South

Lawns, too, were obscured from view by the shrouds of the

November gloom. The cold, dampness of the air upon my face

rendered me feeling a little refreshed and I dithered no more

but hurried earnestly along the front of the house towards the

West wing.

After a few minutes, I could see the doors and windows

of the Breakfast Room right before me and, with a palpable

sense of elation, I stepped quickly up to the French doors and

peered in. I removed my hand from my trouser pocket and

tested the door but was most disappointed to find that it was

locked, for I had hoped to have been able to enter unhindered

and not a little triumphantly as if to the succour of the besieged

Mr Jaffey. As it was, the door rattled but did not yield to let me

in. Returning my right hand to my pocket, I leant forward and

peered in, half expecting to see Mr Jaffey making his way

towards the door in order to let me in. A sudden fear that he

might not have remained waiting for me, in spite of all my

reasoning, crossed my mind. I peered again and strained to see

the figure of Mr Jaffey in the gloom. It was quite requisite for

me to press my face very close to the glazing on account of the

fact that my own face was reflected back at me if I did not

press my nose almost directly upon the glass and yet, at the

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same time, so damp and chill was the morning that my breath,

close up, condensed in a great cloud over the pane and I was

obliged to wipe the window almost continuously.

I was, indeed, thus employed in my attempts to see into

the Breakfast Room, when the door opened and there stood Mr

Jaffey looking down upon the damp crown of my head. I rose

up immediately and with a sensation of immense relief:

Mr Jaffey! You are here after all. How pleased I am

that you are still here, I exclaimed.

Mr Jaffey took a little step back in order to let me enter.

He glanced over his shoulder and then at me and raised a finger

to his lips as if to suggest I should speak in nothing more than a

whisper and, indeed, as if to set me an example, he whispered

to me himself:

Good morning, sir. May I remark upon the fact that a

little rest seems to have helped you recover your good health.

Thank you, Mr Jaffey, I replied, as I walked in and

unfastened two buttons on my tweed jacket. I heard Mr Jaffey

close the door and felt my face glow a little with the

contrasting warmth of the room.

A little rest was all that I required, I added. Though

I must say, Mr Jaffey, that I feel quite faint from hunger. I do

hope the breakfast has not become too cold to be rendered

unpalatable.

Mr Jaffey came round and now stood before me: his

head was bent a little forward and his shoulders were slightly

hunched, I perceived, and he spoke thus:

Sir, I do wonder if we ought to repair to the Library.

There are, he continued, glancing quickly over his shoulder in

the direction of the door, a number of pressing matters that

need some discussion.

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Mr Jaffey's glance reminded me immediately of the

veiled widows and, for a moment, my mind was taken off

thoughts of sustenance.

Ah yes, Mr Jaffey, I whispered, though, it would

seem, too loudly, for Mr Jaffey looked at me with sudden wide-

eyed alarm and raised a forefinger to his lips.

Ah yes, I repeated in corrected lower tones. Mr

Jaffey, I do wonder how it has come about this morning, that I

have found myself rather besieged; and it is quite

disconcerting, is it not, that those veiled Algerian widows lurk,

still, in the Jade Gallery. I do hope you might explain what

happened in the period of time between my earlier departure

and present return.

Mr Jaffey nodded and stepped beside me as I walked

over to the sideboard. It would seem that my legs had decided

to act quite against Mr Jaffeys suggestion that we should retire

to the Library, for they took me forward towards the silverware

as if they had minds or stomachs of their own. I heard Mr

Jaffey sigh with a hint of vexation:

Sir, I must convey to you that the present situation

appertaining to our uninvited visitors is of a most delicate and

precarious nature, he hissed as I lifted a little liver onto my

plate.

Delicate and precarious, Mr Jaffey? I asked. I felt a

flicker of annoyance, I have to confess, which may well have

been fed by my hunger: but was it quite acceptable that an

English gentleman should be so ridiculously besieged as this in

his own home? I remembered my earlier feeling of irritation

that Mr Jaffey had not removed the Algerian widows and at

that moment I looked at him with a frown:

What matter concerning these wretched women could

be so important as to stand between a gentleman and his

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breakfast and what quality of demand could there be from these

widows such that two gentlemen must be forced to whisper and

scurry about like criminals?

My voice began to rise, I lowered my plate and put it

down on the sideboard with a gesture of mild frustration.

Mr Jaffey, I ask you: What quality of demand dictates

to us to behave so timorously and in my own home?

Mr Jaffey patted the air with his hands as if to indicate

that I should lower the volume of my voice:

I will inform you directly of the quality of their

demands, or rather the nature of our predicament and must, sir,

suggest that you lower your voice. Let me explain as quickly

as I can the precise nature of our difficulties.

Mr Jaffey thence turned and walked over to the French

doors and I felt obliged to follow and to leave my plate of

victuals on the sideboard. The two of us huddled close to the

glazing and Mr Jaffey spoke thus:

I do quite appreciate, sir, how offensive you must find

this situation to be but, please, now listen carefully, for the

Mohammedan widows present us with something of a

perplexing quandary which must be handled most dexterously

if we are not to find ourselves in an excessively difficult

situation.

Mr Jaffey crouched closer to me and ran his fingers

through the curls of his whiskers.

The problem is a complex one, sir. You see, the

widows, in their distress regarding the unburied bodies of their

dead husbands in the Walled Garden, could very easily

become, as it were, a force counter to our efforts to keep the

worms secret from the tenants. What could be more effective

in raising anything but a state of total panic than the grief of

these women whose husbands were eaten by the worms?

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Mr Jaffey paused and I responded:

Mr Jaffey, I see now, perfectly, that these wretched

widows would very well cause the tenants to have great alarm

which we have, hitherto, decided must be avoided at all costs.

Mr Jaffey nodded eagerly:

Yes, and what is more, sir, is that the deceased

gardeners were accommodated in tied cottages and, now that

they are, on account of their being dead and possibly consumed

by the worms, unable to work on the Malcotte Estate, the tied

leases should now be regarded as revoked.

And what, precisely, does that mean, Mr Jaffey?

Mr Jaffey tugged restlessly at his beard:

It means, sir, precisely what it means. Though, by way

of a corollary, I might add that, even as we speak, the

Mohammedan widows have no legal right to reside in the

Yards and, in fact, must be regarded as having been trespassers

the very minute their husbands ceased to be fit for service on

the Estate on becoming dead, sir.

I rose from our little huddle and sighed:

Certainly they are trespassers and, Mr Jaffey, I see that

we are presented with something of a quandary as you say. Am

I to presume that their continued presence in the house is

connected in some way or other to your concerns that, were

they to be allowed, as it were, to mingle with the other tenants,

there could well be some great panic? And, Mr Jaffey, am I to

presume further that

Mr Jaffey interjected:

This was precisely why I chose not to demand that

the widows should leave immediately and why, indeed, they

are still here just the other side of the door.

I see, I said; yet, in all honesty, I felt a certain

uncertainty regarding Mr Jaffeys prudence. Again, I was

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stricken by that difference in our natures upon which I have

hitherto remarked and, pressed on by my own, bolder nature, I

felt that it was imperative that I should provide objections,

perforce of reason, to Mr Jaffeys judgement that the widows

should be kept in the house:

Mr Jaffey, I said, addressing him on my return to the

sideboard (needless-to-say, Mr Jaffey kept himself close to

me), I do apologise in advance if I now seem to you to be a

little critical of your decision to the effect that these Albanian

widows should be kept here, but I have two objections to make:

The first, Mr Jaffey, is that these veiled widows must have

known for some time that their husbands were deceased and

have they not already been mingling with the other tenants in

their state of vociferous distress? I can only conclude that

rumours of a calamity of some sort already abound in the

Yards. Given that this is so, I should add, that keeping them

incarcerated here is tantamount to locking the stable doors after

the horse has bolted. Further more, Mr Jaffey, keeping them

locked away like this will result in the conspicuousness of their

absence in the Yards which can only add to the tittle-tattle and

fearful gossip so enjoyed by the lower orders. The second

thought I have is less of an objection but more of a

consideration and is that, conversely to my first objection,

might it not be conjectured that it should take little effort, on

our part, to convince the tenants that the four women are either

liars or mad, for, after all, are they not Mohammedans and

from a part of the world infamous for hysteria and chaos?

Indeed, Mr Jaffey, I should contend that little credence will

have been given by the other tenants to anything that they

might already have said. In conclusion, Mr Jaffey, which ever

way you look at the quandary, our keeping them here is

unreasonable.

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Indeed, sir. The problem caused by the veiled widows

will cease to be by the end of the afternoon.

Oh, I said. And how might that be? I asked,

pushing my fork into a large piece of liver and raising it to my

mouth.

Mr Jaffey opened his eyes and leaned forward with the

air, I should say, of an arch conspirator about to divulge some

devilish complot. He glanced at the door and then me:

I shall explain, sir. But, please, I must let you, at last,

enjoy your breakfast and do apologise profusely if I have been,

in any way, responsible for delaying you.

I sighed and found myself smiling back at Mr Jaffey

and began to feel quite guilty and foolish that I should have

been annoyed with him, though, to be fair to myself, such

childish emotions might partly be blamed on my ravenous

hunger. I shook my head, as if to indicate that Mr Jaffey had

no reason at all to feel he should apologise and, without a word

more, I popped the calf's liver into my mouth and found,

immediately, that it was stone cold and had become as tough as

old boot leather.

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Chapter IV

No amount of reflection upon the possible medicinal

benefits of my breakfast, inspired by recollections of my

readings about the famished Chinese peoples, seemed to have

been sufficient to induce in me a feeling at all favourably

disposed to what I now found between my teeth and, thus,

consequently, my first mouthful of calfs liver was my last.

As Mr Jaffey proceeded to divulge his plan of campaign

regarding the veiled widows, I attempted to listen as best I

could in spite of the fact that my tongue and gorge appeared to

be locked in a battle over the contents of my mouth. After

several difficult minutes, I was relieved to find that my tongue

had emerged the victor though, I should add, only after my

teeth had allied themselves to the cause of downing that

somewhat tough opponent, and my oesophagus, albeit only

after one or two counter attacks, was finally forced into

submission. Very quickly, I had regained my composure and,

after tapping my lips with my napkin, I was able to speak:

I do apologise, Mr Jaffey, but I would have to request

that you go over one or two points, as I have been a little

preoccupied with a small piece of liver that had become lodged

between two back teeth and, in truth, I should have to admit

that I heard not a single word you just said. Indeed, Mr

Jaffey, I continued, pushing my plate of cold breakfast away,

I should be grateful if you might find it possible to begin

again and assure you, this time, that you shall have my whole

and undivided attention.

Mr Jaffey opened his eyes and closed his lips in mid

sentence and, it appeared to me, just then, gave himself a little

shake, rather like a dog whose back has just been tickled by a

flea.

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I see, replied Mr Jaffey, glancing at the plate of cold

breakfast, now approximately equidistant between us, and

leaning forward:

Perhaps sir, he continued, it were best that I did not

repeat verbatim what I have been saying, as we have already

found ourselves tangentially occupied enough this morning

and, moreover, I am increasingly aware of the fact that we have

not yet addressed our main purpose for the day being our

planned guest list for the lavish dinner. Mr Jaffey sighed. So

I shall summarise, briefly, how we shall resolve the affair of the

Mohammedan widows.

I do agree, Mr Jaffey, that it is most requisite that we

push on with matters and you are quite correct to remind me

that our main concern lies with our invitations for the grand

dinner. Needless-to-say, Mr Jaffey, I am all ears.

Mr Jaffey nodded and then pushed back his chair and

stood up and thence removed his silver pocket watch:

It is now one quarter of an hour past one oclock and I

have arranged that we should meet the Mohammedan widows

at precisely three oclock outside the Walled Garden door. As I

have already intimated, whilst your attention was elsewhere

engaged, we shall invite these widows to take that opportunity

of burying the corpses, or parts of their deceased husbands and

shall provide them with the access they have so adamantly

demanded. Really, sir, as you can see, I propose to do little

more or little less than meet their demands.

Mr Jaffey replaced his pocket watch and moved away

from the side of the table.

I have always contended, sir, he continued, that the

best solutions are the simplest and most direct, for the more

complicated ones tend to produce difficulties of their own and

in their turn. Consequently, I should ask: what could be

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simpler, when responding to a request, than that the request be

granted and without unnecessary delay?

I too rose from my place at the table and desired to

applaud what seemed to me perfect good sense and practicality

on Mr Jaffeys part, but Mr Jaffey spoke on and pronounced a

suggestion that had been a thought in the back of my own mind

and, had I been given the opportunity, I should have later

uttered myself:

Might I suggest, sir, that, as we have a couple of hours

to spare, we repair to the Blue dining room for a spot of

luncheon. This would seem particularly requisite, given that

breakfast today was something of a failure and, I must confess

to feeling quite half-starved myself.

Now there, Mr Jaffey, you speak even more good

sense and should we

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