Appleby's End by Michael Innes Read Free Book Online Page B

seconds it spun as if it were a great top, so that they had to clutch each other and finally collapsed on opposite seats. By the time they were on their feet again the carriage was moving with the current and gaining momentum rapidly; a few seconds more and the stream was bearing it at a far brisker pace than Spot could have achieved. Momentarily the Ravens on the bank could be heard shouting with even greater vehemence. Then their cries died away.
    â€œSwim,” said Appleby soberly. “It’s only a few yards. But there’s an altogether surprising volume of water coming down.”
    â€œBetter wait.” For a moment Judith took charge. “There’s a sharp bend. We’ll probably be washed on the bank. Here it is.”
    The moon had disappeared again and they could judge of their situation only from the movement of their queer craft. It had tilted sharply on its side, so that the open door banged to; but now it had returned to an even keel and its motion was difficult to judge. They waited for some seconds. “It certainly hasn’t grounded,” Appleby said. “What happens after the bend?”
    â€œOh, then you come into the river.”
    â€œThe river!”
    â€œThe Dream. It gets quite broad here. Hullo, here’s the moon.”
    Once more Appleby peered out. They had made better speed than he had guessed, and the prospect around him was extremely disconcerting. Instead of a narrow and turbulent stream with banks only a few yards distant on either hand there was now a great expanse of water, smooth, slow-moving, and argent under the moon. “It’s absolutely grotesque!” Appleby said. “We might be on the Volga.”
    â€œOf course there isn’t much of it like this. It narrows again about a mile down.” Judith was looking calmly out of the other window. “Why don’t we sink?”
    â€œHeaven knows. But the sooner you and I stop being inside passengers the better. It’s either swim straight away or climb to the roof. If the first, get some of your clothes off; if the second, not.”
    â€œWe’ll try the roof. Swing the door open and see if we can climb by that.” Judith Raven was perfectly collected in this strange situation. “And as for clothes, a wet skirt’s likely to be a nuisance in any case.” With surprising speed she divested herself of this garment. “You first.”
    Without great difficulty Appleby got on the roof and hauled Judith up. They lay for a moment panting heavily – and their panting brought home to them how utterly still was everything around. Not a lap or ripple of sound came from the fantastic forepeak of their vessel, and all about them was the oddly noticeable silence that belongs to falling snow. “I say,” said Appleby, “do you think your people are still hollering at each other across that ford?”
    â€œSure to be. But we’ve got right away from them – and all chance of dinner. I think it’s rather restful – like the cinema before they invented all that nasty noise.” Judith laughed softly. “By the way – did Dr Johnson say anything useful about travelling like this?”
    â€œIt’s more the sort of thing favoured by Shelley. Fantastic voyages in unlikely craft. Occasionally we shall meet a serpent or an eagle. And most of the voyage will be through a system of underground caverns. These tell us much about the psychotic condition of the poet.” Appleby was staring warily ahead down the glimmering river. “And I may say that you yourself are quite in the picture – providing we regard you as a personification of Hope, or Art, or Liberty. Only you ought to be dressed in something filmy and transpicuous.”
    â€œI don’t think I like Shelley as much as Dr Johnson. And my dress is not at the moment a suitable subject for conversation.” Judith stretched out her silk-clad legs in a sort of ironic