South Wind(Fiscle Part-3), Norman Douglas [most important books of all time .TXT] 📗

But Actually Improved In Quality; And Concluding

With The Warm Recommendation That They Were As Well Adapted As Ever For

Curing Those Ailments To Which The Island Population Was Peculiarly

Liable--Namely,  The Consequences Of Excessive Lechery And Alcohol,  And

The Discomfort Caused By Ingrowing Toe-Nails.

 

The Local Deputy,  Don Guistino Morena,  Had Often Promised His

Nepenthean Constituents To Look Into The Matter And See That Something

Was Done. But He Was A Busy Man. Up To The Present He Had Apparently

Not Moved A Finger.

 

And Now This Fountain,  The Last Survivor Of The Twelve Health-Giving

Springs,  Had Suddenly Run Dry. . . .

 

The Bad News Spread Like Wild-Fire. It Was Regarded--For Reasons Which

Will Presently Appear--As A Portent Of Gravest Significance. The Clergy

Met In Unofficial But Well-Attended Conclave To Deliberate As To What

Attitude Should Be Adopted Towards The Phenomenon,  And What Measures

Taken To Allay Popular Apprehensions.

 

There Was Gossip,  Too,  At The Club. Most Of Its Members Were Of The

Laissez Faire Or Even Rationalistic Type,  And One Of Them--An

Unobtrusive Hindu Who Was Suspected Of Wearing Stays--Went So Far In His

Indifference As To Declare That The Only Result Of The Drying-Up Of The

Fountain Would Be "One Smell Less On Nepenthe." A Small But Compact

Minority,  However,  Thought Otherwise. Obsessed By Vague Forebodings,

They Found An Able And Eloquent Interpreter Of Their Fears In The

Commissioner Who,  Rather Redder In The Face Than Usual,  Strode Fussily

Up And Down The Premises,  Tugging At His Disreputable Briar Pipe,

Drinking The Whisky With Anybody Who Cared To Pay For It,  And Declaring

To All And Sundry That Something Must Be Done. It Was His Panacea--His

Unvarying Formula For Every Emergency,  Scandalous Or Otherwise.

Something Must Be Done,  He Avowed. And From The Card-Table Came Two

Approving Echoes--The Voices Of Mr. Muhlen And Signor Malipizzo,  Who Did

Not Care Tuppence About The Fountain But Never Lost An Opportunity Of

Expressing Their Public Approval Of Mr. Parker's Words And Actions.

 

Something Must Be Done And That Soon,  For In A Few Brief Hours An

Atmosphere Of Gloom,  A Sense Of Impending Calamity,  Had Begun To Hover

Over The Sunny Island. The Natives Called To Mind,  With Consternation,

That Only Once Within The Memory Of Their Ancestors Had The Fountain

Behaved After This Fashion. It Was On The Eve Of That Great Volcanic

Outbreak On The Mainland Which,  By A Deadly Shower Of Ashes,  Destroyed

Their Crops And Impoverished Them To Such An Extent That For Three

Consecutive Months They Could Barely Afford The Most Unnecessary

Luxuries Of Life. They Opined With Some Show Of Reason That The Little

Streamlet Had Been Tempted By Ancient And Obscure Bonds To Sympathy To

Forsake Its Old Home And Creep Away,  Under Leagues Of Shimmering Sea,

Towards The Fiery Heart Of The Volcano; There To Undergo Some Alchemic

Process Of Readjustment,  Some Ordeal,  Some Torrid Nuptial Rite Which

Would Result In The Birth Of A Flaming Monster And The Ruin Of Mankind.

 

The Terrace Was Crowded With Folk; All Eyes Were Turned Toward The

Distant Fire-Mountain. But The Volcano Had Never Looked So Placid,  So

Harmless,  So Attractive; Its Shapely Flanks Suffused With The Crimson

Light Of Evening,  While Wreaths Of Violent Vapour Ascended,  In Lazy

Intermittent Spirals,  From The Cone. They Rose Into The Zenith

Playfully,  One After The Other,  As Though The Volcano Were Desirous Of

Drawing Attention To Its Pretty Manners,  And Were Wafted Onwards,  In

Delicate Wisps Of Smoke By The Persistent South Wind. The Clergy Now

Began To Appear In Goodly Numbers Upon The Scene. They Were In The Best

Of Humours And More Ready Than Usual,  It Seemed,  To Take Part In Any

Conversation Which Might Be Going On. It Had Been Decided,  During Their

Informal Gathering,  That The Apprehensions Of The Faithful Could Not Be

Better Allayed At This Preliminary Stage Than By A Mild Demonstration

Of This Kind. Appearances Were Everything; So They Had Concluded,  Not

For The First Time. And It Was Precisely Then That The Simple-Minded

Parroco,  Surrounded By A Knot Of Devout Believers,  Pointed To The

Playful Cloudlets Of Smoke As They Issued From The Mouth Of The Crater

And Apposite,  But Calculated To Calm The Minds Of His Hearers. He Said

That No Rosy Schoolboy,  Smoking His First Cigarette,  Ever Looked More

Innocent. An Ominous,  Fateful Speech! Yet Such Was His Holy Simplicity

That He Failed To Realize Its Import. He Failed To Perceive How

Inauspicious The Metaphor Had Been Till Don Francesco,  In A Whisper,

Pointed Out That Appearances Are Apt To Be Deceptive And,  Alluding To

Certain Experiences Of His Own At The Tender Age Of Six Years,  Affirmed

That The Smoking Of A First Cigarette,  For All Its Seeming

Harmlessness,  Is Liable To Be Followed By Something In The Nature Of A

Cataclysm.

 

There Was Worse To Come. For While The Sun Yet Lingered On The Horizon

News Of Further Portents Came Thick And Fast. A Plum Tree Belonging To

A Farmer Of Good Standing Had Unaccountably Lost All Its Leaves. The

Duchess Arrived In A State Of Unusual Trepidation,  Declaring That The

Tortoise-Shell Of Her Lorgnette Gave Forth A Crackling Sound. She

Appealed To Don Francesco To Explain The Meaning Of This Extraordinary

Circumstance; It Crackled Most Distinctly,  She Declared. Not Far From

The Little Bay Where Only Yesterday The Streamlet Of Saint Elias Still

Trickled Into The Sea,  A Fisherman Had Caught A One-Eyed Lamprey--A

Beast,  Unquestionably,  Of Ill Repute. The Bibliographer,  Strolling

About With Denis,  Recollected That His Fox-Terrier That Very Morning

Had Been Violently Sick. He Seemed To Attach No Great Importance To The

Affair; All The Same,  He Said,  It Was Rather Queer; Dogs Are Not Like

That; Now,  If It Had Been Keith. . . . The Baby Of The Principal Grocer

Had Tumbled Downstairs And Thereupon Proceeded To Swallow Eight Of Its

Elder Brother's Marbles Which Had Been Carelessly Left On The

Floor--Without Experiencing,  So Far As Could Be Ascertained,  Any

Appreciable Injury. A Mysterious Disease,  Known As The Scabies,  Had

Broken Out Among The Russian Apostles. The Yacht Of The American

Millionaire,  Mr. Van Koppen,  Arrived That Day; There Was Nothing

Startling In This Since He Visited The Island Year After Year At The

Same Season; But Why Should She Collide With A Fishing-Boat At The

Moment Of Anchoring?

 

And From The Old Town Came News Of A Portentous Fowl Which Had Suddenly

Assumed The Plumage Of The Male Sex. It Was A Hen Renowned,  Hitherto,

For Her Temperate And Normal Habits And,  As It Happened,  Known By Sight

To The Local Parish Priest,  Who,  Horrified At The Transformation Of The

Feathered Monster And Mindful Of The Papal Bull Ne Nimis Noceant Nobis

Which Enjoins Upon Christians The Duty Of Destroying All Unnatural

Productions However Generated,  Incontinently Ordered It To Be Put Out

Of The Way. But The Destruction Of This Androgyne Proved An Arduous

Task. It Was Reported That The Creature Fought For Its Life With The

Energy Of A Demon,  Crowing Vigorously The While And Laying,  In The Very

Act Of Death,  An Egg--An Egg Of Spheroidal Form,  Bluish In Colour,  And

Apparently Hard-Boiled--An Egg Which The Chief Medical Officer Of Health

Had No Great Difficulty In Recognizing As That Of A Cockatrice.

 

In View Of These And Other Sinister Occurrences It Is Not Surprising

That A Sense Of Insecurity Should Have Fallen Upon The More Credulous

Section Of The Natives. Even Sceptical Persons Thought It Rather

Provoking On The Part Of Providence,  Or Whoever Managed These Things,

That The Disquieting Of Men's Minds Should Take Place During This

Particular Fortnight,  The Most Important Of The Whole Year,  Midway

Between The Great Feasts Of Saint Dodekanus And Saint Eulalia When The

Island Was Crammed With Visitors.

 

And There Followed Late At Night Yet Another Surprise. Mr. Parker Had

Been Called Away From His Duties At The Club In Hot Haste By The News

That His Lady Was Seriously Ill. A Few Days Earlier She Had Been Stung

On The Lip By A Mosquito; No Further Attention Was Paid To The

Incident,  Though The Disagreeable South Wind Provoked A Rise In

Temperature And Some Discomfort. On This Afternoon,  However,  Her Face

Had Suddenly Begun To Assume Strange Tints And To Swell In Wondrous

Fashion. It Was No Already Enlarged To Twice Its Natural Size And

Altogether--In The Words Of The Physician Who Had Been Summoned To Her

Villa--"A Thing To See."

 

It Had Always Been A Thing To See. So,  At Least,  Said Those Who Were

Privileged To Know. There Were Tropical Strains In Her Blood-Strains

From Some Flowery Land In The Caribbean Sea-Strains Which Refused To

Mingle In Harmonious Fashion With The White Elements In Her Ancestry.

She Was Neither Lovely Nor Lovable,  And It Was Regarded As A Kindly

Dispensation Of Heaven That Some Malformation Of The Lower Limbs Kept

Her Confined To Her Boudoir,  Where No Visitors Ever Called Save A Few

Misguided Newcomers To The Island Who Were Unaware Of Her

Idiosyncrasies. These Idiosyncrasies,  Due To The Enforced Inactivity Of

Her Feet,  Took The Form Of A Grotesque Activity Of The Tongue. Her

Infirmity Preventing Her From Learning How Things Really Stood,  She Let

Her Phantasy Run Riot On The Occasional Reports Which Reached The

Villa; And That Phantasy,  Nourished By Lack Of Physical Exercise,

Indulged In A Love Of Scandal-Mongering Which Bordered,  And Sometimes

Trespassed,  On The Pathological. She Distilled Scandal From Every Pore,

And In Such Liberal Quantities That Even The Smiling And Good-Natured

Don Francesco Once Spoke Of Her As "The Serpent In The Paradise." But

Perhaps He Only Said That Because Madame Parker Was Not Over-Fond Of

Him--His Rival The Parroco Being Her Friend And Confessor.

 

Such Being The Case,  The Prospect Of Her Possible Demise Was Received

With Unconcern And Even Relief By All Save A Notable Number Of

Tradesmen Who Prayed Fervently For Her Health Because The Lady,

Presuming On Her Connection With The Official Representative Of The

Friendly State Of Nicaragua,  Had Contrived To Owe Them Considerable

Sums Of Money. Knowing The Commissioner As They Did,  These Victims

Feared That They Would Never Be Able To Collect Their Due In The Event

Of Her Death. Hence Their Prayers For Her Speedy Recovery.

 

What Would That Gentleman Do Without Her? For It Was His Redeeming

Feature That He Felt,  Or Professed To Feel,  Affection For This

Graceless Harridan Who Was The Only Person On Earth That Believed,  Or

Professed To Believe,  In The Integrity Of His Motives. It Is To Be

Presumed That They Saw Through Each Other Perfectly; She,  At Least,  May

Well Have Appraised Him At His True Value. She Must Have Known Him For

A Dishonest Fool. Yet This Principle Of Mutual Attachment Was Never

Relinquished. Wiser Than Her Stepbrother,  She Knew That A House Divided

Against Itself Must Fall; She Therefore Approved,  Forcefully If Without

Conviction,  Of His Every Word And Deed. Such Approval Did Him Good. It

Created A Fictitious Self-Esteem. And This Was Really Rather

Unfortunate,  Since Self-Esteem,  By Giving Him A Sense Of Importance And

Consequence In The World,  Rendered Him A Good Deal More Objectionable

To His Fellow-Creatures Than He Need Have Been.

 

Meanwhile She Lingered On,  And A Small Group Of Enquirers Were Gathered

Round The Physician Who Was Returning Late At Night From His Third

Visit. The Moralists Among Them Saw The Finger Of God In The Fact That

Her Mouth,  Out Of Which Had Proceeded So Much Harm To Strong Men And

Women,  Should Now Be Sealed By One Of The Frailest Of His Creatures.

The Doctor Shrugged His Shoulders At This Kind Of Talk. He Was No

Moralizer; He Was A True Southerner,  An Aesthete--One Of Those Who Could

Appreciate The Subtlest Beauty Of A Skin Disease. He Waxed Discursive

On The Subject; Said That The Lady's Face Reminded Him Of The Rainbow

In A Certain Picture By A Local Genius; Avowed That There Were Moments

When Even A Doctor's Hard Life Had Its Compensations,  And That This Was

One Of Them.

 

His Enthusiasm Carried The Audience Off Their Feet. It Converted The

Sternest Preachers Into Artists. They Forgot To Talk About Moral

Lessons. All Congratulated The Good Aesculapius On His Choice Of The

Medical Profession As A Career And His Luck In Beholding A Spectacle

Such As This; Especially When He Added,  With Glowing Eloquence,  That It

Was Astonishing How So Small An Insect,  A Mere Mosquito,  Should Be Able

To Produce An Eruption Of This Magnitude And In Colours,  Moreover,

Which Would Have Made Titian Or Peter Paul Rubens Burst With Envy.