Month: January 2016

A new development.

The start of the story can be found here.

Following from the last section
A strange man falls into Elizabeth’s life. This continues the chapter, with Dr Standfast up to something odd.

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“I don’t. The last book I read was ‘Three men in a boat.” I doubt ‘Uncle Podger’ could give rise to dreams about much other than fat men running for the train or else smashing walls when hanging a picture. I did like Montemercy, could we have a dog?”
“Then Miss Grace.”
“She is a romantic soul, read me a poem by the river. It was lovely, and I’ll have to read some poetry myself.”
“Just don’t let your imagination get carried away, and no Fox-Terriers, at least not until you’re truly recovered.” He looked at the clock, “My, is that the time? An experiment awaits. On my way out I’ll see that Mary brings your supper.”

Elizabeth awoke with a start, it was the middle of the night. She turned over and tried to get some more sleep, but Morpheus while so plentiful with his gifts in the evening, had fled for greener pastures. There was no cure for it, but to rise and find something to read. She put her feet on the cold wooden floor and walked to the window. The moon was setting, but still gave enough light that she could see into the fields, just beyond the farmyard. Something strange, something strange and big, was moving out there. Something that required investigation.
She slipped into a robe and found her way downstairs. A pile of Wellington boots lay by the kitchen door and she found one pair that fit, more or less. Then she wandered outside to see what the thing was.
Once there she saw it. “Good gracious,” she cried, “this looks like nothing more than an enormous upside-down umbrella. Whatever is it?”
She jumped when her Uncle Sylvester answered, “It’s my ear.”
“Your ear? I didn’t know you were so hard of hearing. It’s enormous.”
“Let me explain, it’s for listening to the music of the spheres.”
“The music of the spheres?”
“I don’t know what else to call it. Here.” He led her underneath and put a telephone headpiece to her ear. “Listen.”
“All I hear is pops and crackling.”
“Quiet!” He turned the umbrella and as he did a low throbbing noise filled the headpiece. “Hear that?”
“I do. What is it?”
“That’s Jupiter.”
Suddenly the noise cut out. “What happened?”
“The whisker must have moved.”
“Whisker?”
“I have a small crystal of Galena and a fine wire barely scratching the surface. Following Hertz’s work. It detects waves in the ether. It only works at night, our sun is far too noisy. Very delicate and has to be just right.”
“Oh. Like me?”
“No. My dear niece, you’re tough. Still, I shall have to bring the detector down to fix it. If you’d like you can help me.”
Together they slowly lowered the device, folding it back up so that Sylvester could reach the detector. “It’s the dew, wetting it. I’m afraid we’re done listening for tonight.”
He stepped back and stared into the sky. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the moon had finally set. The Milky Way, thousands of stars, shown brightly above them.
“Take a look Elizabeth. Isn’t it beautiful, breath-taking?”
“I’ve never seen it so bright.”
“Can’t see this through the fog and lights in London, can you?”
“No, and yes it is beautiful. Do you know the stars?”
“Many of them, especially the closer ones.”
Uncle Sylvester started to point out the summer constellations and give the stars their names when something slid across the sky. It didn’t blaze like a shooting star, but slowly glided across the sky above them, taking several minutes to cross from horizon to horizon.
“What’s that Uncle?”
“Trouble.” He stared at the sky for a few more moments and then added, “Now young lady, it’s time for you to get back into your bed.”
****
Elizabeth woke late the next morning. She rushed to the window, but no trace of the inverted umbrella was to be seen in the field. Was it a dream? Then she looked at the grass and saw that it was bent, compressed. There were tracks in the dew. She hadn’t dreamed it after all.
After throwing on a house-dress, taking her gazunder to the outhouse, and rinsing it clean under the pump, she was on her way in when she met Mary.
“You needn’t do that Miss.”
“I did it at home, and you’re busy enough, Mrs Trent.”
Mary took it from her and said, “Yes, Miss. There’s porridge on the stove and the tea, under the cosy, should still be warm. Get your breakfast.”
“Yes, Mrs Trent.” Elizabeth turned to enter the kitchen, then she stopped and added, “Mrs Trent, does my Uncle often scan the skies?”
“You saw him?”
“Last night.”
“He used to, near every night, but hasn’t for a long while. Think that Mr Sharpless’s arrival has started him up again.”
“How is he?”
“Mr Sharpless. Ah, Mr Trent says he’ll live. Don’t know that he’ll be much good. Soft hands, never done a day’s hard work in his life.”
“He said he’d shovelled up after the elephants in the circus.”
“Believe that and I have another for you. George said he was scared of the milk cows.”
“But they’re so sweet, almost pets. Mrs Trent, is there anything I can do to help you or Mr Trent around the farm? I’m not sure I’d be that skilful, but I’d like to.”
Mary smiled at her, “After you eat your breakfast, you can help me with the chickens, unless you want to help Mr Trent clean the stables.”
“Chickens.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to shovel out the stalls.” Mary chuckled.
“No, but I would like to learn more about the animals. Mother always had to stop me from petting the cart horses back home.”
“When you’re stronger. Remember what Dr Standfast said. You need to build up your strength. I’m sure it will come in time, but you’re not to exhaust yourself today. Now go get your tea before it’s cold.”
“Yes, Mrs Trent.”
After she finished a bowl of delicious and nourishing porridge, oats cooked with milk and sugar until they stuck to the spoon, the bowl, and her ribs, Mary escorted her to the chicken coop. There she was initiated in the ways of telling which hens were sitting on eggs, how much feed to scatter for them, and where to fill the water. After they let the chickens into their yard, Mary added, “We’ll need to lock them away this evening. Mr Hobbes said he’d seen a fox after meeting yesterday.”
This exciting task complete, Mary said, “Miss James, I must be about my work. Laundry day. The boiler should be hot by now.” Then she left Elizabeth in the farmyard.
Elizabeth watched her go, then turned and went into the barn. Or tried to. The closest barn was locked, locked with a Bramah lock, and short of cutting the bolt there was little she could do to open it. She thought, I suppose Uncle has his reasons, and moved on to the next section of the building. When this was locked as well, she hammered on the door.
“What is the matter?” Sylvester said from behind her.
Elizabeth jumped, “Why are the barns locked?”
“To keep the curious out and the contents safe. Miss Grace will be here shortly and you should change from that dowdy house-dress. Don’t want her to think you’re still ill, do you?”
“Lucy, here?”
“She said yesterday, she’d bring you something to read about mid-day, and I hear someone singing as they walk on the road from North Bovey. It doesn’t sound like George or one of the hands.”
Elizabeth, forgot about the barn, for the moment, and ran to the house to get changed into suitable clothes for entertaining her guest.
It was, indeed, Lucy and she brought several volumes of her favourite poetry with her. Mindful of Dr Standfast’s instructions to Elizabeth, they sat together in the front parlour, with tea and scones, having a quiet afternoon while they read together. They took turns reading aloud verses that they liked.
It was after Lucy finished one stanza that Elizabeth said, “Lucy, who’s Edward?”
“Edward! What, how?’
“There’s a letter tucked in this volume, from him.”
“You didn’t read it, did you?”
“Just the name.”
“Give it to me. Please.”
Elizabeth handed the letter to Lucy, who touched it to her lips and then tucked it into the volume she was reading.
“I guess he’s someone special. Your parents don’t approve?”
“No.” Lucy took a deep breath and explained, “We met when I was at school, and then at dances. He’s Reverend Baring-Gould’s oldest son. Promise me you won’t say anything.”
“I won’t. It’s exciting, you having a beau. I wish I did.”
Lucy blushed, “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon enough. I so wish my parents liked him.”
“Sounds as if he’s perfectly respectable, another clergyman’s child. What’s the problem?”
“My father thinks his father is too imaginative, spends too much time writing books.”
“I didn’t know that you could be too imaginative or write too many books.”
“I think they had a falling out over the Dartmoor Exploration Company.”
“What’s that? Wait, I remember, Uncle said that he’d built that pentacle for them. A Druidical monument.”
“Is that what he told you?”
“Yes, what did he tell your father?”
“That it was none of our business what was buried there. That and not to worry, it wasn’t devil worship.”
“But this Dartmoor Exploration Company. It is real?”
Lucy laughed, “Very much so. They’re excavating Neolithic and historical sites all over the moors. Edward is directing the excavations at Grimspound while he’s home from Cambridge.”
“Is that far away?”
“A couple miles, not far.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to smile at her friend. “When I’m stronger, why don’t we arrange for an expedition to see the works? Just the pair of us, I have this deep desire to explore the ancient monuments. You have kindly offered to show me the nearest ones.”
“Deep desire?”
“New found, but intense. Though I think your parents don’t need to hear how new found it is.”

---

The next installment.

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A new development.

The start of the story can be found here.

Following from the last section
A strange man falls into Elizabeth’s life.

---

“I don’t think anything is broken, but.” He struggled to rise, then stopped. “It’s my ankle, I’ve done for it.”

Elizabeth thought for a moment; it wasn’t too far to the gate and Lucy should be back with her father. “Let me help you to the road.”

Henry thought for a moment, and said, “Yes, that’s best. Please.” He looked up in the tree above, and Elizabeth followed his glance. There was a thin shinny tissue of fabric hanging from it, with straps dangling below. “Can’t leave that here, like that.” When he pressed a button on his belt, the material dissolved into the tiny threads of a spider web and then drifted off in the wind.

“What was that?”

“Oh, my descent chute. I drifted into the trees on the way down.” He intently studied her face, and to be honest, she intently studied his. Despite the dirt and grime, she liked what she saw in this young man. He smiled at her, evidently he liked what he saw as well. “That didn’t make any sense to you, did it?”

“No.”

“I’ll explain later, when I’m better. After I’ve seen Dr Standfast.”

“If you want my help, you can tell me now.”

Henry smiled at her, and said nothing.

“That’s not an answer, and my friends will be here shortly. Take you to the magistrate and see what he says.”

“I was attempting a balloon crossing of the ocean. Not the best of ideas, in retrospect. At least I had a parachute, Garnerin’s idea. Drifted into that tree on the way down and well, here I am.”

“Across the ocean, I don’t believe you. No one could do that and they’d be a fool to try.”

Henry laughed, “You’re right. Ballooned away from the circus, if you want the unvarnished and simple truth. It was either a stunt like that, or back to shovelling up after the elephants in the morning.”

“That explains your uniform. What about the burns?”

“Hot air balloon. Caught fire. It was a great show, pity no one saw it.”

Elizabeth bent down to help him stand. Then with her support, they hobbled out to the lane. Lucy hadn’t arrived. “We can wait for my friend, she’s bringing her father.”

“I think I can walk, with your help. I’d like to carry on if that’s all right with you.”

Summoning her last reserves of strength, Elizabeth said, “We can try, but I’m not that strong. Still recovering myself.”

Mr Sharpless said, “I think you’ll be surprised at what you can do.”

What they could do was to walk the quarter mile to where the lane ended and another crossed it.

“Which way?”

“I don’t know. I think to the right, because the other way is Moretonhampstead, but that could be the right way.”

“That is a dilemma.”

The dilemma, at least for the young man, suddenly became worse. Elizabeth said, “I feel faint.”

Then she collapsed against him. He was doing his best to gently lower her to the ground when he heard the noise of a Tilbury being driven hard along the road.

Dr Grace’s loud voice, trained and practised from years in the pulpit of making his sermon heard in the back of the church, boomed out. “What are you doing with Miss James? Unhand her this instant!”

The man startled and straightened, but didn’t drop Elizabeth. “She fainted. We were on our way to Dr Standfast’s” Then he continued to lower her gently to the ground.

At a nod from her father, Lucy jumped down and ran to her friend. “Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered, then as she woke she said, “Lucy, I fainted.”

“Yes, you did. My father’s here, with the cart.”

Unnoticed in the background, the man turned and tried to slip off. He took one step, putting real weight on his injured ankle. It didn’t support him. “Great Zeno’s testicles! That hurts.”

He collapsed to the lane and started crawling away. The horse, unused to such bizarre behaviour, whinnied. The man froze, “What was that!”

“A horse.”

He shook his head, “Yes, I remember, a horse. Ha, ha, silly me, a horse. Didn’t think they were so big.”

“She’s just a pony. Not a big one at that.”

With Lucy’s help Elizabeth sat and put her head between her hands, resting on her knees. “I’ll be better, in a moment. Lucy, could you help?” She stopped, “What is your name, again?”

“Henry, Henry Sharpless.”

“Lucy, could you help Mr Sharpless into the cart? He hurt his ankle.”

Lucy helped Henry to stand and supported him as he hobbled to the side of the carriage. Then Dr Grace leaned over
and gave him a hand up. After that she helped Elizabeth to stand and steadied her on her way to the trap. With both Henry and Elizabeth as passengers there wasn’t room for another, so Lucy walked beside them as they drove to Barnecourt Farm.

Dr Standfast dashed over when the precession finally reached Barnecourt. “What’s wrong, is Miss James fine?”

Lucy said, “She collapsed Dr Standfast. I think we overdid it.”

Elizabeth stirred, “I’m exhausted Uncle. There’s this man I found. He needs your help.”

“I see.” Sylvester gave Henry a quick glance, then said, “He can wait.” He shouted, “George, Mary, please come.” Then he said to both Lucy and Elizabeth, “Let’s get you inside. Miss Grace, can you help me with Elizabeth?”
Together they assisted Elizabeth inside and tucked her into a comforter on the sofa in the front parlour. She immediately fell asleep.

Her uncle was sitting in the parlour, across from her and watching when, several hours later, when she awoke.
“Feeling better?”

“Much. I hope it wasn’t too rude of me to not take my goodbyes.”

“No, I saw Miss Grace and her father off. They understood, and in any case, Mrs Grace expected them for supper. Now, you must take it easy and not overdo it.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Good. I don’t want any more frights. You’ll recover your strength much more quickly if you don’t tax yourself.”

Elizabeth nodded, “I’ll try.” Then she tried to remember, there was something she wanted to ask her uncle. “Uncle?”
“I suppose you are wondering about that young man, Mr Sharpless.”

“Who? Oh, yes, him. That wasn’t it, but how is he?”

“He’ll recover, tore up his ankle, and had a touch of exposure, but given a few days, he’ll be up and about.”

“Isn’t that fast, for an ankle, I mean?”

“I didn’t say it won’t hurt. He’ll limp for a while longer, but best if he gets moving. He’s in the old stable-lad’s room. I think I’ll employ him as a hand. George could use the help, none of us are getting any younger.”
Sylvester noticed that Elizabeth flashed a quick smile. “Was there something else? Otherwise I’ll have Mary bring your supper.”

“Oh, yes. In the field, there was this.” Her smile most definitely disappeared.

“You saw the pentangle?”

“Yes, is there a coven or what?”

Sylvester laughed, “No coven, this is modern England after all. No, I explained it to Dr Grace. One of my friends, connected with the Dartmoor Exploration Committee, wanted to perform an experiment.”

“Summoning the Devil?”

“No, re-creating a Druidical monument. See how it decays. He hopes it will help them interpret their diggings.” Her uncle chuckled, “Summoning the Devil. You read too many lurid romances, Elizabeth. Have to find you some more solid literature. Rein in that imagination of yours.”

“I don’t. The last book I read was ‘Three men in a boat.” I doubt ‘Uncle Podger’ could give rise to dreams about much other than fat men running for the train or else smashing walls when hanging a picture. I did like Montemercy, could we have a dog?”

“Then Miss Grace.”

“She is a romantic soul, read me a poem by the river. It was lovely, and I’ll have to read some poetry myself.”

“Just don’t let your imagination get carried away, and no Fox-Terriers, at least not until you’re truly recovered.” He looked at the clock, “My, is that the time? An experiment awaits. On my way out I’ll see that Mary brings your supper.”

---

The story continues.

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