Beggars on HorsebackJesse, F. Tennyson (Fryniwyd Tennyson)
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Beggars on Horseback
Jesse, F. Tennyson (Fryniwyd Tennyson)
Fiction; Short stories, English
Vashti had the imaginative streak of her race, and life in the lonely
cottage with this masked personality took on the quality of nightmare.
She felt his one eye watching her continually, and was tormented by the
thought, "How much does he know?" Who could tell? Had he seen anything
from the outhouse window when she had rashly let Willie come so near, or
did he know who it was who had fetched the doctor? Sometimes a meaning
word seemed to show that he knew everything, sometimes she argued that
he could only guess. The black mask filled the whole of her life, the
thought of it was never out of her mind, not even when she was working
on her old farm, for she had to be breadwinner now. She found herself
dwelling on what lay behind the mask, wondering whether it could be as
bad as that black expanse, and once she woke herself at night,
screaming: "Tear 'en down, Willie! Tear the black mask down!" and then
lay trembling, wondering whether her husband had heard. For days he said
nothing and she felt herself safe; then one night he turned to her.
"There's no air," he complained. "Can't 'ee take down t' curtains? If
'ee can't do anything else, why--tear 'en down, tear 'en down!"
He had mimicked her very voice, and silent with fear, she took down the
curtain, her fingers shaking so that the rings jingled together along
the rod. One day, when he was working in the garden, he turned to face
the wind. She saw him sideways against the sky, and the black mask, held
taut at brow and chin by the strings, was being blown inward. She never
forgot the horror of that concave line against the sky.
She came to regard the mask with superstitious awe; it seemed James
Glasson's character materialized--the outward expression of the inner
man. Nervous and cowed to abjectness as she was, she felt near the end
of her endurance. The perpetual scheming to meet Willie unknown to her
husband--a difficulty now the latter was nearly always about the
house-place, and the wearing uncertainty of "How much does he know?"
were fraying her nerves. Some two months after the accident the crash
came.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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