Trimblerigg : $b A book of revelationHousman, Laurence
Religion
Trimblerigg : $b A book of revelation
Housman, Laurence
Clergy -- Fiction; Romans à clef; Satire
Magically a way cleared for him: a long stretch of pavement, then a
road: in the middle of the road, aloft on its iron standard, spluttered
the arc-lamp, very wan and pale against the healthier light of day.
Propelled from behind he began running towards it, with an agility
which for a moment, in his responsive mind, wakened an absurd hope.
But a moment later, under the lamp-post, he was off his feet again. Up
in front of him swarmed a man-monkey of the sailor-breed trailing a
rope. The crowd roared gloriously, its rage changing to delight.
Clasping the iron standard despairingly with legs and arms in a last
embrace, he felt hands below pushing him, making him go higher. Then
suddenly there came a wrench; the hands loosed him, but his feet did
not touch ground. And as his agitated body sought this way and that for
the hand-hold or foot-hold it had lost never to find again, I, reading
for the last time the scrip of his brain, found the truth fairly lodged
there at last:
‘O, you fool! O, you damned fool! O, you silly, damned fool, look what
you have done to yourself now!’
And then something happened: something quite unexpected, for which I
cannot account; though I have a sort of a fear that I know in what
direction the account may hereafter be found.
I followed him into those last moments--for his last moments they
proved to be--with a breathless interest, which at least told me that
though he had tried me much, I was not as tired of him as, for my own
peace, I would have liked to be. And up to the last hitch, I still
wondered whether so agile an executant of quick turns would not manage
even then to escape from his enemies. His enemies, I say. But my wonder
now is whether his last escape has not been made from one who, like
Davidina, was his faithful though discriminating friend. For when,
after the rope had done its work, I looked for him on the spiritual
plane, it was to find that he had vanished. And if I, too, must own the
truth--I do not know what has become of him.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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