Beneath London by James P. Blaylock Read Free Book Online

into the home of people one esteems.”
    “On the contrary,” Alice said to her, laying her hand on Mother Laswell’s arm, “it would be unnatural not to. We haven’t forgotten that you rescued Eddie and returned him to us when he was in trouble, and we
won’t
forget it, either.”
    “Alice is correct,” St. Ives said. “We’re heavily in your debt, although that puts it coarsely. Please speak your mind.”
    “I will,” she said, “God between us and all harm. I very much fear that something dreadful has come to pass, and I’m here to ask a favor of the two of you.”
    “We’re at your service,” St. Ives said to her.
    “Then you might go along with me in the wagon, a half hour up the road. I’m mortally afraid that there’s something amiss with a friend of mine, and I’m compelled to call upon her. Bill isn’t back from Maidstone yet, where he’s keen to see a man about sheep, and the boy Simonides is too young. I don’t want to go alone, Professor.”
    “Then you’ve come to the right shop. Where to, ma’am?”
    “There’s a cottage in Boxley Woods, where my friend Sarah Wright dwells. I have a clear foreboding that all is not well with her. She is known to be a witch, you see, and has suffered for it, as is the lot in life of those who can see what most people cannot.”
    “I’ve heard the name,” Alice said. “Aunt Agatha spoke of Sarah Wright from time to time.”
    “Your Aunt Agatha consulted her. I know it for a fact, as did other women, generally in secret. Agatha Walton strolled to her house in the light of day, however. I’m happy to be able to say so. Children threw sticks at Sarah when she came into the village, and reviled her as a witch, so in time she stopped coming and was largely forgotten. There’s a beaten path from her cottage in the wood to Hereafter Farm, however, and I’ve carried meat and greens and black bread to Sarah Wright for many, many years. She was a hermit, you might say, although she was good company when she had something to say, and she harmed no one.”
    She stopped then, a painful look on her face. “I mustn’t say ‘was.’ From time to time the more daring children in the village, hearing rumors of the witch, make forays into Boxley Woods to look at her. At Hereafter we’ve seen them sneaking along the path, but since Bill came to the farm they’ve mostly stayed away, because he won’t allow them to cut their capers. It was this very morning, however, Bill being gone off to Maidstone, that I saw three boys running back along the path toward the village as if the Devil were after them. Seeing those boys put ideas into my head.” She paused for a moment and then said, “I believe that you’ve both met Clara,” she said, “the blind girl who lives at the Farm?”
    “The girl who sees with her outstretched elbow, as I recall,” St. Ives said, careful to keep his tone clear of any suspicion of doubt. He had seen the girl’s powers, which at the time he suspected of being a clever parlor trick. He had few such suspicions now, nor did he have any notion of explaining the phenomenon, which was beyond his ken. The scientist in him knew that there was an explanation somewhere, but the other part of him wasn’t as sure.
    “Indeed. Clara is Sarah Wright’s daughter. She came to live at the farm when she was eight years old. She was understandably withdrawn, and Sarah rightly believed that the girl wanted company, although Sarah herself did not want company, and Clara had come to fear the woods. I like to think that Clara has thrived at Hereafter, and you can understand that I’m unwilling to allow her to come to harm. In any event, Clara also saw the frightened boys, and fell into a swoon. It was Clara’s… condition that convinced me to come to you. Clara sees what many of the rest of us cannot see. I fairly dread looking into the cottage alone because of what the girl saw, or rather sensed. Perhaps I’m simply being foolish. Indeed, I pray