Lavengro George Borrow (free ebook reader for ipad TXT) 📖

the matter, none could tell me better than the child, who was in all her secrets, and was not a little like her; so I looked about for the child, but could find her nowhere. At last the same man told me that he shouldn’t wonder if I found her at the grave; so I went back to the grave, and sure enough there I found the child, Leonora, seated on the ground above the body, crying and taking on; so I spoke kindly to her, and said, how came all this, Leonora? tell me all about it. It was a long time before I could get any answer; at last she opened her mouth, and spoke, and these were the words she said: ‘It was all along of your pal’; and then she told me all about the matter. How Mrs. Hearne could not abide you, which I knew before, and that she had sworn your destruction, which I did not know before. And then she told me how she found you living in the wood by yourself, and how you were enticed to eat a poisoned cake; and she told me many other things that you wot of, and she told me what perhaps you don’t wot, namely, that finding you had been removed, she, the child, had tracked you a long way, and found you at last well and hearty, and no ways affected by the poison, and heard you, as she stood concealed, disputing about religion with a Welsh Methody. Well, brother, she told me all this; and, moreover, that when Mrs. Hearne heard of it, she said that a dream of hers had come to pass. I don’t know what it was, but something about herself, a tinker, and a dean; and then she added, that it was all up with her, and that she must take a long journey. Well, brother, that same night Leonora, waking from her sleep in the tent, where Mrs. Hearne and she were wont to sleep, missed her bebee, and, becoming alarmed, went in search of her, and at last found her hanging from a branch; and when the child had got so far, she took on violently, and I could not get another word from her; so I left her, and here I am.”

“And I am glad to see you, Mr. Petulengro; but this is sad news which you tell me about Mrs. Hearne.”

“Somewhat dreary, brother; yet, perhaps, after all, it is a good thing that she is removed; she carried so much Devil’s tinder about with her, as the man said.”

“I am sorry for her,” said I; “more especially as I am the cause of her death⁠—though the innocent one.”

“She could not bide you, brother, that’s certain; but that is no reason”⁠—said Mr. Petulengro, balancing himself upon the saddle⁠—“that is no reason why she should prepare drow to take away your essence of life, and, when disappointed, to hang herself upon a tree: if she was dissatisfied with you, she might have flown at you, and scratched your face; or, if she did not judge herself your match, she might have put down five shillings for a turn-up between you and someone she thought could beat you⁠—myself, for example, and so the matter might have ended comfortably; but she was always too fond of covert ways, drows and brimstones. This is not the first poisoning affair she has been engaged in.”

“You allude to drabbing bawlor.”

“Bah!” said Mr. Petulengro; “there’s no harm in that. No, no! she has cast drows in her time for other guess things than bawlor; both Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and died. Did you never hear of the poisoned plum pudding?”

“Never.”

“Then I will tell you about it. It happened about six years ago, a few months after she had quitted us⁠—she had gone first among her own people, as she called them; but there was another small party of Romans, with whom she soon became very intimate. It so happened that this small party got into trouble; whether it was about a horse or an ass, or passing bad money, no matter to you and me, who had no hand in the business; three or four of them were taken and lodged in⁠—Castle, and amongst them was a woman; but the sherengro, or principal man of the party, and who it seems had most hand in the affair, was still at large. All of a sudden a rumour was spread abroad that the woman was about to play false, and to peach the rest. Said the principal man, when he heard it, ‘If she does, I am nashkado.’ Mrs. Hearne was then on a visit to the party, and when she heard the principal man take on so, she said: ‘But I suppose you know what to do?’ ‘I do not,’ said he. ‘Then hir mi devlis,’ said she, ‘you are a fool. But leave the matter to me, I know how to dispose of her in Roman fashion.’ Why she wanted to interfere in the matter, brother, I don’t know, unless it was from pure brimstoneness of disposition⁠—she had no hand in the matter which had brought the party into trouble, she was only on a visit, and it had happened before she came; but she was always ready to give dangerous advice. Well, brother, the principal man listened to what she had to say, and let her do what she would; and she made a pudding, a very nice one, no doubt⁠—for, besides plums, she put in drows and all the Roman condiments that she knew of; and she gave it to the principal man, and the principal man put it into a basket and directed it to the woman in⁠—Castle, and the woman in the castle took it and⁠—”

“Ate of it,” said I, “just like my case?”

“Quite different, brother; she took it, it is